The Quiet Lamb Led to the Slaughter

This is one of the easiest posts I have ever had to write because I am able to tear myself down so easily about it. I knew I had to get this off my chest in some form and this is my way of expressing it. To the people this is meant for, I hope you will someday read this as my apologies can only convey so much of how I want to convey my thoughts. These are my feelings spread out in words that I have carried around heavily in my mind as of late. Like a bath filled to the brim, with water still running, these words are spilling over the edges and I cannot find the willpower to stop them.

Regret is an interesting emotion.

“to feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over (something that one has done or failed to do).” – Source.

It’s a feeling that I am all too familiar with, being one strand of a rope that ties me to my conscious anxiety. Thinking, cross checking, hating every social situation that I have been in, wondering if I had done the acceptable things, used the correct words and acted the right way. It is the pressure of perfection.

After I do things my brain always runs about what is respectable, what wont get others talking or even thinking about me in a negative way. I don’t stop contemplating my actions, especially the ones which hurt others. In most circumstances, my regret stems from a place of hurting someone else or myself in situations. It is something which truly eats away at the inside of me and consumes my thoughts, saps at my energy until I cannot fight back against it. So, I just give in. I let myself become consumed with past events that take over my days, have me thinking throughout the night, have me wide eyed when I should be sleeping. I become unable to think, becoming fixated on the things that I regret doing because of what I have done to others.

It is something that I struggle with daily, always thinking about others, their judgement and perceptions of me due to my mistake or misstep. It stems back to my obsession with perfection and insecurity of not ever being good enough. I struggle to let my mistakes go, I struggle to revel in my failures which involve others because I don’t wish to drag them down with me. I don’t want them to struggle because I know the feeling of a free-fall with no parachute. So I regret almost everything I do. It sucks.

The thing is, I am in no way the victim here because I feel like the antagonist. I know I’ve done something wrong. I took someone pure of heart and set them adrift to the rough seas of the unforgiving modern society. Someone so smart, funny, energetic. I feel terrible. Not only because of what I have done, but because I did this knowing the inherent struggle that we can attribute to life really not being fair. Yet, it happened, I can’t take it back, we don’t live in the past.

If I could go back into the past there are so many things I would change about myself. So many regretful words I have uttered, places I have been, people I have hurt and actions in my life that I would take back to make my own or another persons struggle easier. It is not compassion. It is not kindness that runs this feeling, it is the fear of becoming someone I hate and the regret that comes along with it.

I’m sorry. Such a simple phrase. It feels nowhere near as powerful enough as it should. There must be some other way that I can express a feeling of remorse for the trouble which I have caused. But is there? How do you express your drowning regret to someone you have scared so badly with their everything being broken down into nothing. How can I do this when whats done is done, when the past has already been made setting a path for the future which leads to nothing but ruin.

I shouldn’t be forgiven. I royally fucked up. I fuck up all the time. This time, it’s really hit me hard and knowing that I could have fucked up someone’s entire existence, choices even life is the most devastating part. The thing is, I have just come to terms with loving myself, and at the moment, I feel like I have made someone else hate them self because of something that I did. That is powerful enough to bring me back to fucking reality and smash me to smithereens. I… I do now, I hate myself. Again, I’m not the victim here, far from it.

I try and care for others. I believe that I’m a compassionate, understanding, warm person who is funny (sometimes) that attempts to extroverted (sometimes) and makes an ass of themselves (always). Obviously, at this point, what I believe and what I am are two completely different instances, that’s what I’m coming to believe.

For me, the situation I find myself in reminds me of leading a quiet lamb to the slaughter. It doesn’t fight back, it does not understand, it is way to young to know what is going on. I’m just a young farm hand, unbeknownst of what I’m leading this lamb to because I’m too drunk to know whats happening around me.

I don’t know what else to write. Forgiveness should not just be given, but earned and I feel like at this point, I couldn’t earn it. Disrespectful. Vulgar. Idiotic. Insensitive. Dickhead. Yeah, they sound about right. That’s me. At that moment, on that day, to that person. I was all of these things and more.

What I’m trying to say is that we do not fully understand the idea of regret until we are enveloped with deep rooted feelings of hurting others. I hope that I can learn from these mistakes.

I’m sorry. Please let me help in anyway I can. I would regret saying nothing too much.

~ krisesandchrosses ~