Lately, I've been thinking a lot about accountability. I wanted to write about how no one seems to accept responsibility for their actions. I have any number of examples of people wanting to blame others for whatever trying circumstances they're experiencing. Then, I thought I'd approach it from another angle, gay marriage and religion. Yes, I went that deep with it. The deterioration of cultural moralities, politics, religion; these are a bit heavy for my little blog. Especially when, what I really want to say is, I have managed to royally fuck up my life, and I'm just now beginning to see that.
Those are some tough words to write. Maybe that's why it's taken me so long to get this post out. It's not easy, even for me, to look too closely at my shortcomings, to expose them for all the world to see. When you consider some of the things I've blogged about before, that's really saying something. But I feel especially vulnerable right now.
Over the years, I've come up with any number of excuses, but what it all boils down to is that I've made a lot of bad decisions. Everything I hate about my life right now, which is just about everything, can be traced directly back to some poor choice(s) of my own design. Good intentions don't count for much when you wake up every morning, trying to sort out just where you went wrong. Sure, I was misguided at times. Misinformed. Even led astray. I can be naive when it comes to some things. But the choices were always mine to make. And I made the wrong ones. It's as simple, and as complicated, as that.
Of course, it's all well and good to mope around, feeling sorry for myself, even while acknowledging I have no one to blame but myself. The pity party is over now, though. I have to put on my big girl panties and climb back up onto my high horse. While, in the past, I may not have always selected the path that best served me, I'm going down a new road now. Whatever regrets I leave behind, have to stay behind. I've always thought accountability meant you had to find a way to right your wrongs. I'm coming to realize, though, that some things just can be fixed. At thirty-three, I can accept that I've made some mistakes, I can own them and not make them anymore, but I can't undo what's been done. And, for the first time in my life, I'm okay with that.
