This blog is built on the premise that “some mistakes are too good not to share,” but I’d be lying if I denied that I’d happily allow someone else to accept the blame for my litany of poor choices. In fact—I was having an enlightened conversation about television shows with Gunmetal Geisha a while back and realized that I actually am not to blame for my bad decisions. Nope. Not at all. My moral scorecard is white as snow now.
If you’ve read my blog for any measure of time then you won’t need this list, but for those who are uninitiated, here’s a quick rundown on some of my personal failings:
- Dated a guy twice my age who turned into a psycho stalker
- Got involved in something that led to me fleeing the country and living in China for 9 months
- Dated a guy with Mommy issues who needed to be cleaned up after and eventually took a bunch of drugs and started yelling at me next to a row of slot machines
- Wandered around in hillbilly country, knocking on doors after I ran out of gas in Methville, America
- Started working night shift at a psych ward because what else is there to do.
Now—all of these things probably sound like the sorts of agreements and situations I entered into of my own volition, but after binge-watching the entire Season 3 of Revenge, I realized that I’m actually living in one vast fugue state.
If you haven’t seen this particular season (of the most realistic of network television shows) the main character suffers a head trauma, gets amnesia, then begins living a parallel life of risky and impulsive choices. Gunmetal Geisha said she couldn’t stand how unrealistic the storyline was, but then I realized that I’d been through the exact same thing: After getting wasted, falling out of a convertible, and hitting my head. I ended up with a concussion, a lot of medical tests, and a legit diagnosis of amnesia. For the next few months I enjoyed the thrill of finding shopping bags in my closet or the back of my car and having no memory of the purchase.
This was Summer 2009, just after Gooseberry and right before I went to Turkey with my friend L. It was about two weeks after this that I made a series of choices that took my life spiraling down into hell. This led to a lot of guilt and self-loathing– so much so that I had to schedule a 3-month nervous breakdown in China to deal with my manifold personal issues, when really—it wasn’t my fault. All this time, it was the head wound.
The most important part of this is that I’m obviously still living in a fugue state, which “usually involves unplanned travel or wandering, and is sometimes accompanied by the establishment of a new identity.” According to high quality TV dramas about rich people, this also includes all sorts of impulsive choices and poor decision making skills. You have no idea what a relief this is, now that I can’t be held responsible for my choices anymore. It’s like a free pass. I encourage you to find one as well.
What do you blame YOUR poor choices on? Have you ever had a concussion? Would you like to have amnesia about certain periods in your life?
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