I’m sorry for blindly creating the disabilities which have come to govern my life. I regret allowing them to grow in my soul unchallenged. I regret allowing them to lace my life with bitterness and despair. I regret the fear and the shame. I regret the hatred. I regret understanding but never acting. I regret the idealism engendered. I regret all of the dreams and the lack of attention paid to their pursuit. I regret my own self-wrought-fantasies. I regret the lack of engagement with how to move from where I am to where I want to be; to stare at the destination and never the road. I regret the opportunities which have passed me by. I regret the chances which have slipped through my fingers. I apologise for never engaging myself with a genuine process of healing. I regret the masks that I wear as a result. I regret the vows that I make and the vows that I break. I regret never being consistent with my endeavour and striving. I regret the person I have become and mourn the one who I know I can still be. I regret always taking my life to the wire and wondering why desperation haunts me still. I regret the world which has allowed me to become this way. I regret never building happiness. I regret turning down love and life and peace and resolution. I regret understanding but never acting.<\/p>\n
I was diagnosed with CFS eight years ago. I was housebound and isolated for the first two years and
\nhave been attempting to get my university degree for the past six. I have a loving and beautiful family. I find it really hard to socialise with other people. My anxiety feeds my fatigue and my fatigue feeds my anxiety. I’m now in my final year. I know that I can master myself and overcome the obstacles in my path but I know that I am close to losing faith in myself and allowing fear to derail my studies once again. It feels as if I have become stuck in an eternal moment, forever painful and replayed. It feels like I am living my regrets, that they narrate my every waking hour, some silent, some loud.<\/p>\n
I’m twenty seven years old. Thank you for allowing me to post this.<\/p>\n
Submitted by: Douglas<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I’m sorry for blindly creating the disabilities which have come to govern my life. I regret allowing them to grow in my soul unchallenged. I regret allowing them to lace my life with bitterness and despair. I regret the fear and the shame. I regret the hatred. I regret understanding but never acting. I regret […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-492","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-yourself"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/iregret.net\/wp-goodies\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/492","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/iregret.net\/wp-goodies\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/iregret.net\/wp-goodies\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/iregret.net\/wp-goodies\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/iregret.net\/wp-goodies\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=492"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/iregret.net\/wp-goodies\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/492\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/iregret.net\/wp-goodies\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=492"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/iregret.net\/wp-goodies\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=492"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/iregret.net\/wp-goodies\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=492"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}