I struggle.

Well in the first 8 days of the new year, I've been able to cross off a couple of the things on my Bucket List.  Unfortunately, I would have preferred that they turn out differently, but such is life, right?  

So here's the story.  An old friend asked for a favor.  Needed a place to stay for awhile.  I knew what I was getting into.  I knew the history.  Addiction, mistakes, selfishness, depression...

What I saw - An addict trying to get clean.  A young person trying to right the wrongs they'd done.  Someone that had hope for being a better person.  A young soul that needed a friendly face and a kind ear to listen as they struggled.

I took a chance.  I took a chance when people told me it was a bad idea.  I took a chance when I was apprehensive.  I took a chance because I would want someone to take a chance on me.  Gamble on me.  Bet on me.

As happens a lot of the time when I do bet,  I lost.  And if you're gonna go, ya gotta go big.  I lost big.  My belongings were rifled through and my trust was violated.  I lost some jewelry, some credit cards, some cash and mostly, some faith.

Last night after it all came to light, I was angry.  Raging.  So much so that I scrubbed down the kitchen and the bathroom and did 6 loads of laundry.  And now that I think about it, it's a pretty good release of frustration - all that good old fashioned hard work.  Very productive.

I'm sorting out the credit card ordeal, and now my debit card ordeal... (thank you ChaseBank for calling me within 4 hours of the first fraudulent charge).  I'd been lied to, I'd been taken a fool, and worse, I felt like one.  I wish I could say that I never had that thought you have after being burned, the one where you swear to never trust again...

Oh, I thought it.  For a split second in anger and just sheer desperation of not knowing what else to think...  but it's not me.  I'm not that person.  I'm not a "glass half-empty" type of girl.  I never have been.  Sure, I have my moments, I struggle... but that's all they are.  Just moments of fear.  And I choose faith over fear.

I have faith that people are kind and good and sweet and honest and selfless and that they won't hurt you, intentionally or otherwise.  I give more than I get.  I'm happy to lend a hand, an ear, a shoulder to anyone that needs it.  I may sound naive to some, but it's just an outlook.  I've learned that there are some people in this world, in this life, in my life (past tense, obv) that are only thinking of themselves and that some people are not capable of compassion and even some persons that choose to inflict verbal/emotional/physical abuse.  Those people are few and far between and I am grateful to have only met a few of the latter kind.

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dear old friend,  I am compassionate.  I am considerate.  I love you.  But I love me more.  There is only so much that I can give.  I took a chance.  I gave more good than I got.  And I gave a second chance... but am not willing to give a third.  I'll be happy to lend an ear, but that's all I can manage.  Call me when it all works out for you and you're sober for a couple of years.  love, carrie
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And the worst part of it all?  As bad as this may sound, nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.  The absolute worst was having to admit (just to myself) that my Dad and C. were right and I was wrong.  I effing hate that.



PS - I've decided to adopt a new outlook for chance-giving...
"fool me once, shame on you.  fool me twice, eff you. "