People make mistakes. I, myself have made more than my fair share. I have come to learn something from all of those mistakes, though. (And isn’t that the point? To learn from mistakes?) There are two ways to handle mistakes. You can accept that you made a mistake and learn from it, or you can hate yourself and stagnate. I took the latter option a few too many times. I’m learning to take the former now. It is alot more peaceful. I am learning to not hate myself and cause myself more pain.
On the note of acceptance, there is the idea of what life is supposed to be like and the reality of what life is. For the longest time, I wanted to be normal. I wanted to just be done with mental illness. I wanted a magic pill. I wanted to be who I was supposed to be when I knew all of life’s answers at 16. Well, life didn’t deal me that card. I still have BPD, depression, and a menagerie of anxiety disorders. I still have days like today where I start crying at a TV show and suddenly am neck deep in a sadness so deep that it hurts. I could lament this and fuel this depression, or I could make myself get up, finish dinner, and do something that may lift my spirits. Granted, sometimes it is too all consuming and painful to do anything but wait it out, but when I have the strength, I accept my condition and do what needs to be done to deal with it.
Accepting mistakes and life circumstances; lessons learned.