Regret is an odd concept really, the suggestion that you wish something had never happened. Often, when you think it through enough that “thing” that you regret led to something else and that something else led to yet another thing and you keep thinking and tracing it back and eventually you get far enough down the chain that you can find something absolutely beautiful that you wouldn’t change for the world… only, if the regret didn’t happen, neither would the good thing.
The word regret also suggests that there was something you could have done to change the “thing”. That you had some sense of control. We can’t call falling ill a regret if we were helpless in the matter. Even if falling ill was my fault, I’m not sure I could honestly, look you in the eye and call it a regret. After all, some wonderful things have come from it. If nothing else, I’ve learnt a whole lot about myself that I wouldn’t have otherwise.
I want to say that my biggest regret is my reliance on the people around me, especially my fiance. But actually, I can’t call that a regret either because regardless of how much I hate it, it’s better than the alternative (trying to do everything alone and suffering badly for it).
Do I regret not making more of life before chronic illness started to limit me? Not at all. In fact, I love how I lived my life. That’s one of the things that makes illness so difficult.
I’ve been trying and trying to come up with a regret to share for this weeks post but I simply can’t. I’m living the life I’ve been given and I promise to continue doing the best I can with that life, every single day I live it.
This post is Part 26 of 52 in the series –A Year of Growth.
The series is a celebration of the first anniversary of The Truth About M.E and is designed to help me grow through my illness throughout my second year of blogging. I look forward to having you along for the journey!