Regret vs. Mistake

I went out with a group of friends last night to celebrate the upcoming birthday, wedding party for a friend.  She said how happy she was to have friends like us since with all of her mistakes we were still friends.  My friend T brought up my “mistake” I thought she was referring to my ex and the fact that he is in my life in the manner that he is.  I now realize she meant Supergirl.

Supergirl is not a mistake.  I never considered her a mistake.

I have regrets about the relationship I have with L&B, the situation that is our relationship.

I regret not seeing her in the hospital.

I regret not keeping her in my room when the nurse brought her in for a feeding and I freaked out and just yelled to get her out of my room.

I regret that I am not a stronger person for letting this happen in the first place.

I regret that I am not a stronger person to demand and ask for what I want.

I regret that I allow myself to be a door mate to my ex.

I regret that I didn’t ask for help earlier.

I regret that I feel like I do and need to write this.

So while I have regrets — Supergirl was never and will never be a mistake.



My depression has kicked in again.  I hate it.  I hate that if I want meds I have to go to my PCP and after the mess of this past week with them, I don’t know if I want to go back to them.  The last time I asked for meds I was sent to a crisis center.  I had no plans, I had voiced no plans.  Just the opposite.  My therapist cannot write me a script.  That stinks.

It wasn’t helped yesterday when my friend C called up and asked if I wanted to drive up to her sisters and go to a baby shower today.  Now why in the hell would I want to go to a baby shower for a stranger when I have flaked on going to friends.

So I am quiet once again.

Everything is ticking me off.  Every stupid comment I read or hear is just setting me off.  My work has now begun to suffer.

I hurt

there isn’t any other way to put it.

E wanted me to go in and see her last weekend.  How could I?  It feels as if my heart is breaking.  It still hurts.   I hate that I have been made to feel like this. Not once, not twice but over and over again and again.

How do I get over this?

How do I get over feeling like a second hand citizen in my own life?

How do I move on from this?

How do I stop the hurt?

How do I stop the pain?

How do I not hold it against them?

How do I have a relationship with these people?

Why do I have to be a bitch?


I finally heard back from them

I am angry, hurt and trying to repair me.

If I am quiet a while longer please I will write soon.