Post inspired by this insight from Co-Star (1) and another time, when I'm stuck thinking about these lyrics from Furniture by Rachel Bochner (2), hence why I attached the song.

My Day at a Glance, from Co-Star Astrology app: "Accept yourself as being exactly the way you are supposed to be in this moment. Stop hunting for what's wrong with your latest win. You earned it. The voice that says you could have done better is lying — you did exactly what was needed. Let this moment be enough."
Genius Lyric Card for Furniture by Rachel Bochner. Lyrics: "Can we agree that it was a terrible ending? / Either way, at least I did mean what I said"
1 / 2

I still feel sad, yes.

Yesterday I also felt like I could've said or done more, but the thing that stopped me from opening the Instagram DMs with this man again was one thought. The thought that was with me from the beginning of all this is a fear and a piece of advice at the same time:

«What if you end up in the same loop? Get attached to the same dopamine hook you wanted to get rid of?»

Yes, you got that right — this fucking guy, due to him being nice to me and acknowledging my effort at first, ended up becoming one of my sources of dopamine. Sucks to be in such a situation, indeed — but that's what ADHD does to you.

By now, I'm stuck grieving what would have happened if we got this silly little project done — us bringing more people together, maybe doing something fun with them — but it didn't happen. Didn't work out.

I mean, I have the right to grieve — after all, I was determined to finally start it and fix the mistakes that were made in the past. And I also supported this man as an artist as much as I could...well, as much as the amount of spoons1 I had at the time allowed me to.

As much as I'm embarrassed to have said all of what I said in the last few posts about this incident, I feel like it's a good exposure therapy. Like, you don't know anything about another person except for what they let you know, and considering the fact that you spent a disgustingly big amount of time bottling up half of your true feelings, it feels pretty good to be just as disgustingly self-aware.

But why did I bottle everything up?

As per this post, it was because a ton of excuses was thrown at me right when I was about to call him out on his shit. I understand that life can be hard, you're busy, responsibilities can crash onto your unsuspecting ass out of nowhere, but, again, that's not the case when you choose to casually drop that on the table every time someone tells you that you fucked up.

Like when someone tells you «hey, you still haven't finished your part of the group project that's due in 10 days» and you're the key part, without direct involvement of which nothing can function properly, you respond with shit like «woops sorry life hard» every time you're about to get your verbal ass-whooping.

Sure, it would not have been a reason for someone to suddenly blow up on you like an overfilled box if you stuck to your word and did at least something, for example, handed stuff over to another person if you truly can't find a single free minute in your schedule.

Both sides tend to either go radio silent or disappear without a word — yes, I have also been the problem — but at least I did that with the intention of coming back later, and truly did come back.

So, why did I hold back from saying all that when it was needed the most?

I felt sorry for him. I tried to be kind, understanding and just give back as much support as I got from him. Tried to make sure we have a backup plan in case something happens, was looking out for him and explained how stuff works so he doesn't embarrass himself as much as he probably already did while dealing with stuff he knows absolutely nothing about.

Now that the deep regret and grief for stuff that never got to happen is out of my system, I feel much better.

While writing this post, I for the bajillionth time remembered the very huge and devastating bridge of How Was I Supposed to Know? which reminds me of myself in a lot of situations from my past, when I didn't have the experience to stop or leave before the consequences hit me like a freight train:

«Coming to terms with the obvious
Ripped myself apart for an audience
And hung out to dry for the taking
No, no amount of ignorance could save me
Swore I was taking the high road
Crossing my heart with my eyes closed
Oh, so much for wanting to do right
My all-white satin bloodied from the dog fight
I have to live with the ashes
Knowing that I let it happen
By overlooking the undertones
I tried my best, so
How was I supposed to know?»

I have to admit, it was hard to be mad at him at first because he truly was supportive and understanding for some time...sucks that it didn't last as long as I wished it would.

But...at least we're out of it without anything worse than it could be, right? 🩷