Down the Rabbit Hole

No Good Deed

I had the opportunity to fly today. While the chance to get above the shit storm I’m drowning in was tempting, my responsibilities have kept me chained to my desk. I’m so sick of making decisions that make me feel far crappier than I did before I made them. I’m feeling disgusted with the state of the world and I’m exhausted by nearly everything in my own intimate sphere of existence. Years ago, I made a horrible mistake and since then, all I seem to do is play catch-up with all my other decisions.

I’ve loved three men in my life, two of which fucked me over in such a myriad of ways that I’m grateful I could even find the emotional availability to get involved with another. It doesn’t matter, that despite everything, I’ve always tried to do the right thing. It doesn’t matter that I sought to find forgiveness and tolerance when there should not have been room for that, but still I tried to be the better person. It seems today that looking back, its cost me far too much of my own personal sacrifices than I ever gained. Some people turn black inside when wronged, some people let it corrupt their views and drown their hopes. I fought so hard not to let it ruin me completely and for what? So I could continue to let guilt torment me years and years later? So I could bear the responsibilities of other people’s actions? It’s all shit.

My ex, I had the foresight not to marry this one, just about ruined me financially and broke my heart so many times I lost count. He was a hopeless alcoholic, his only real flaw but a hugely tragic one. When I finally managed to cut myself off from his sinking ship, he made my life more of a living hell. Never having stopped drinking, he certainly ramped up the effort and nearly four months into my new relationship, drank himself into a very early grave. To this day, despite having tried to be a friend to him throughout everything, he left me with the haunting sense of guilt. Though I believe now he would have killed himself eventually, I can not shake the feeling that I played a part in his dying so horribly. It was not much of a reward for the time I spent loving him, carrying him, caring for him. Some days, particularly days like these, it all seems like a huge joke on silly little stupid old me.

Now, my ex-husband stands to be possibly convicted of a horrible crime, whether he’s guilty or not. He doesn’t have family here or any friends. I’ve been contacted for bail money and more than once, he’s needed my emotional support. At first, I felt badly for him. He was a total bastard to be married to but there were times over our long, sordid history that he was my only friend too. It leaves a person feeling very conflicted. Over time though, he’s taken liberties with my kindness and manipulated me with guilt. Today, I don’t feel badly. I just feel sorry for him. I remember the person he used to be, and he pissed away all that potential. He’s arrogant and an elitist and its only served to land him in a place where he can not defend himself because he refuses to know himself. His demands on me, coupled with my residual guilt, have inspired further poor decisions on my part. In attempted to subvert arguments, I’ve only inspired worse ones.

I’m sick to death of it all, and of knowing that no matter what we do in life, we can never really be free from the mistakes of the past. There is a famous song whose poignant refrain insists that “no good deed goes unpunished”, today I feel like living proof of that. People think they know how you work and how you feel because they'd seen what you've done in your life and in the past. I don’t believe we can ever recover from a life once jaded. I don’t believe that trying to do the right thing always leads to happiness and prosperity. I don’t believe you can stop the darkness from coating your insides like a toxin and I don’t believe you ever truly lift the shadows from your heart.