Nobody's Fault But Mine

That's the title of one of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs.  It's also a phrase that just resounds in my head a lot, continually bouncing around my brain and soul.  A lot of people with mental issues hear a lot from others that what happens to you is no one's doing but your own; just the type of thing that people who are ill of mind don't need to hear.

But what if there's some truth to it in some instances?  In the last year or so, maybe more, I've actually believed it.  Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I didn't suffer all those traumatic brain injuries, or TBI's.  Because other things happened besides that which steered my life down certain paths.  Pondering the what-ifs, though, is rather destructive thinking.  You can't change the past.  And you only have a small amount of control over the future.

I've been dogged by thoughts of guilt for the last long while now, though, of things I could've done differently.  Namely how I've treated others.  I'll go through some of those in this post.  I'm not looking for absolution of any sort, rather than reflecting on how I can perhaps be better. 

What sparked me to write this particular post is something the wife told me the other day, about a mutual friend that she saw at her work.  This friend of ours has been mine since I was a teenager in high school.  I have a lot of nagging feelings about things I've done or reacted to, or whatever, throughout our time of knowing each other.  I was going to put 'throughout our time together' but edited it.  To say 'together' would imply that we were close.  In a sense we were.  We started out knowing each other by dating a few times, which transitioned into being friends once she moved away due to career choices.  I think she did a whole lot more for me than I ever did for her, in the way that she gave me confidence in those years that I'd not previously known.  But all I can actually remember doing for her are all the wrong things.  I used to insist on taking pictures sometimes, even a video once, much to her chagrin.  I wanted something I could always remember.  She was positively uncomfortable with it.  Do I regret it?  Yes, I do.  One time she came over to where I lived while my band rehearsed for a gig that was coming up.  We played in the basement of the house while she was alone upstairs.  "How Not to Treat a Girl 101".  She's asked me repeatedly over the years to go out to the country to see her, and my shyness held me back from ever doing it.  She eventually stopped asking, which I clearly deserved.  Some time ago recently, her daughter got married, where Janice, Lexy and me were all invited to go, and of course I mucked that up seemingly irreparably.  The fault lies with me on that one solely, and now her daughter has completely disowned me and forced her to reconsider our friendship with me.  I deserve that.  I wrote a letter of contrition recently shouldering all the blame for it on myself, which was accepted, but fell short of forgiveness.  I get that too.  Again, 100% deserved.  When she saw Janice at work the other day, the distinct impression I got from the exchange the two of them had was it was over.  That wedding invite I botched was the last brick in the wall by the look of things.  And I'm the one who laid every brick in that wall.  I do accept that I'm the heel in that entire story.  No excuses.  The day my wife told me of her encounter with this old friend, I lay in bed beside her with tears streaming down my cheeks, unbeknownst to her.  I do that a lot, actually.

I rarely talk or communicate with my family in any way these days.  In fact, if they read these blogs, it's probably the main source of communication between us.  I've noticed through the years the gatherings that have happened without my presence there.  Sometimes I was invited, many I wasn't.  I don't blame anyone for not inviting me, in retrospect.  Who wants Mr. Sad Sack in their midst for jovial events?  But not only that.  In writing, not so much in person, I've pissed off my oldest brother with my musings in these blogs, especially in years past.  The last time I was in Ontario, it was clear I displeased him, and I nearly left on a plane alone to come home.  What stopped me was I didn't want my wife and kid driving back alone in the car.  There was a hurricane brewing in the southern States that I used as an excuse to cut our stay much shorter instead.  I haven't gone back since, not because of my family, but because of me.  I keep creating these situations that piss people off, whether I intend to or not.  *hint:  I NEVER intend to.*  There are countless other times where I made stupid judgment calls that I can't take back.  Knowing I've done all this has made me want to not be around anyone I've angered, because I don't want to do it anymore.  All the blame goes on me and I accept it.

There's another brother of mine who wound up being my best man at my re-saying of the vows in the Catholic Church.  He's done so much for me over the years that I feel like I've never given appropriate appreciation for.  There were a couple of times we took trips to Montreal, near where he lived in Ottawa, to see shows, so we'd stay at his place or his girlfriend's.  I feel like I took it all for granted, and that I actually put them out.  I remember he booked a hotel for us that I told him was a dive that I didn't want to stay at again.  If those sound like the musings of a spoiled brat, it's because they are.  Funny, every year I look back and think, "God, I'm glad I grew up a little since then."  Only to reflect the next year on how childish I was yet again.  As much as I was thankful at the time, I don't think I was nearly as appreciative as I should have been.  The same goes for his two boys, who are great friends of mine.  Why they stay close to me, I haven't a clue, and I feel again like I haven't told them enough how much they mean to me. 

Then there's a brother of mine who used to fix my old cars constantly and jump to my aid whenever I put up the bat signal.  And that was a lot.  I have tried through the years to repay him but the debt is too heavy to ever do so.  Yet I don't believe I've expressed enough thanks for everything he ever did.  He's had a rough time of it from the get-go, yet he only concentrates on how he can help everyone else.  His three boys are awesome human beings.  They've always been super nice to me and I don't have a clue why, because I feel like I'm this selfish leech who takes and doesn't give enough.  One of those boys, I've caused a lot of heartache to because of a bad judgment call based on silly beliefs from the past.  He's forgiven me for that.  I haven't been quite as kind to myself.

Talking about giving, there's another brother of mine who arguably did his best to step up to the plate as a father figure after our dad died.  Actually all my brothers did that, and this guy was really selfless.  He included me in a lot of the things he did, and treated me as much like a son as a little brother.  He would go to bat for me when no one else would.  I'm a drummer because of him.  When I was thirteen, just a year after Dad passed, he got me this little drum set to bang on to serve as a distraction to the upheaval that was going on at the time.  I taught myself to play, and it brought me immense joy through the years, and indeed, being a drummer served as an outlet for frustration when I needed it the most.  So what did I have to offer in return?  An inadequate amount of appreciation.  That's the way I see it.

Then there are my two sisters, one who I don't know much, mainly because of my own ignorance and lack of appreciation.  The other whom I tormented as a little kid, that seems to have stuck with her over the years.  And to be completely fair, she's given through her life to me to which I've given back nothing.  There's been a lot of hurt that happened back and forth with us, I think mostly of my own doing.  I haven't gone to visit her in years nearly completely out of guilt of having been an asshole for the entirety of my life.  There was one point a couple of years ago where she alluded to that which confirmed this belief.  Thus, rather than spoiling the picture with my inclusion, I removed myself from it. 

I have an ex-girlfriend/current friend that commented on something that made me realize how much I screwed up that relationship that we had.  One time she spent a lot of cash on an item I'd wanted for a long time, I think only to be reciprocated with an inadequate amount of gratitude.  That probably happened on too many occasions.  I broke up with her countless times over countless dumb reasons due to my own lack of good judgment.  I can forgive myself a little with that, chalking it up to growing up, except I wonder sometimes if I ever did.  Since we re-acquainted ourselves with each other, I've expressed opinions and criticisms that have offended her that nearly ruined the friendship we now have.  This all makes me wonder if I'm even capable of learning sometimes.  Or am I too stupid or selfish to?

There's one friend of mine who's stuck with me through the years that didn't need to.  I was her best friend in the late 80s-early 90s, only to screw the whole thing up, which is what I seemed to be best at especially during that time.  She rightfully disappeared for most of the rest of the 90s, and I was grateful enough to have her back in my life after she'd left it all behind.  She's still around, too.  One of the very few that still are.  Although I think I've been doing a bang-up job of making her feel awkward and perhaps regretting reuniting with me. 

Through the years past, I was involved in a lot of band arrangements with different friends that either amounted to fun jams or serious gigs.  When I reflect on those times, I realize quite a few things.  Namely how much of an ass I was in those bands.  I wasn't very good, but was too stone-headed to realize it.  My drumming sucked, my voice sucked, and my decisions sucked.  All of this just put strain on the bands I was in that had to accommodate my ego.  The songs always had to be perfect.  It was all cover songs that we did, and I always insisted on it being perfect to the last note, foolishly.  I wish I could have been more supportive of personal interpretation of the songs we covered rather than mirroring them.  I think I was just weird...or am?  I did get into a band that made its own songs, but didn't get far with it because of my own dumb decisions, besides the fact that I'm just not very good.  One bandmate that I've had the most consistently through the years essentially gave up on me a few years ago, for good reason.  It was due to a misunderstanding in scheduling at the time, but I know now that there had to be far bigger reasons for it.  Chiefly being my lack of talent, which is clear in retrospect.  It's caused me to re-evaluate my standing as a player of any sort... I hesitate to say "musician"... but also to be realistic.  I'm not in a band because I don't deserve to be.  Period.  I even got a guitar amp years ago so anyone who wanted to jam with me could just pick up the guitar I have and plug in and we could go at it, but no one ever did, even once.  Why would anyone!  Thus I'm selling all this stuff.  Why be pretentious?  I don't even listen to music anymore.  My love of all of that just died.

There's a reason that I don't get included in a lot of things, like family affairs, jamming and band things, or gatherings of any sort.  A friend of mine just got buried and I wasn't even told about it.  Why?  It's clear!  Who wants that Sad Sack weird wannabe drummer guy around who's just gonna make everything awkward?  I'm not upset with anyone about it.  I'm upset with ME.  The more I shake the picture like I've done the last little while, the more clearly I see that the common denominator with all of this is myself.  I refuse to blame anyone for anything anymore, except myself.  I've made my own bed.  You know the rest.

There are so many others who left my life that I completely understand why now.  Every year I look back and wonder why I did certain things.  This year I look further back and wonder why it's taking me so long to fully become human.  If someone leaves my life, it's because I'm an idiot.  I've been such a dumbass for so long, but at least I've come to terms with it.  I'm done laying any blame whatsoever except to the mirror.  Including my medical professionals.  Even my own psychiatrist gave up on me.  How bad does it have to get for that to happen???

In the end, I still have my wife and daughter.  Except I've put them both through hell.  My daughter moved out before she was even out of her teens.  It's no secret as to why she did.  I went through breakdown after breakdown, with my two ladies being left to pick up the pieces and put me back together again, only to see me self destruct repeatedly.  My wife is a virtual saint to endure what she's had to with me.  I've made her cry and be upset so many times with me, only to have her support and forgive me for the numerous things that happened.  She's witnessed me literally nearly beat myself to death, bleed out from extreme nosebleeds, go through ridiculous bouts of self-pity and self-loathing, and crazy crying spells to the point where she could have left simply out of self-preservation, but didn't.  I do hope that I've given her the appreciation she deserves, but I feel I didn't.  And I have great sorrow and regret for how I mishandled fatherhood.  An actual jackass could have done a better job being a dad than I did.

I realize how much of a downer this post is.  But these are the musings of a person who is mentally ill.  It's my state of mind, and I've chosen to stare back at it, in the hopes of.... I don't even know.  I guess after all these years, I don't know what's left to do. 

It's all nobody's fault but mine.