My Greatest Regrets
When I was still quite young, I was offered the chance to spend several weeks in the South of France. My Uncle was going to drive me down in his vintage MG sports car. There would be sun, sand and, crucially, French girls.
I was too scared of the French girls to go.
What do you regret not doing?
( , Thu 5 Oct 2006, 13:25)
When I was still quite young, I was offered the chance to spend several weeks in the South of France. My Uncle was going to drive me down in his vintage MG sports car. There would be sun, sand and, crucially, French girls.
I was too scared of the French girls to go.
What do you regret not doing?
( , Thu 5 Oct 2006, 13:25)
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Be warned, this is long, but has a happy ending of sorts.
When i was 18 and at college, I met a girl who was pretty, easy going and a good laugh - ace i thought! The only dodgy point i could find is that she had a jekyll/hyde syndrome when it came to drink - she'd be this lovely, warm person and as soon as she was drunk she'd turn into a complete fucking nightmare. To me though her good points more than out-weighed it.
We went out for a long while having some really good times, when one night she came to the pub i was working at. She went out with a friend earlier on in the day and she was completely pissed. This wouldn't be so bad but she couldn't walk properly and she was being abusive.
She wanted a beer, i obviously couldn't serve her so i got her some water instead and got her to sit down, she kept getting back up and screaming what a cnut i was for not serving her. Thankfully and eventually some of my mates turned up and said they'd look after her and took her out of the pub. I said if she needs to get a taxi if someone could foot the bill and i'd square up when i finish.
When i finished i didn't get a phone call so i went straight home, i tried ringing her but it was just going straight to her answering machine. About 1am i got a phone call from her full of abuse and drunken gibberish, i tried calming her down as best as i could but eventually i had to end the call because it wasn't fair and i wasn't getting through - i'd done nothing wrong. It turns out she hadn't gone straight home, she'd gone to another pub, got pissed even more and wiped out her wages. All the while screaming at her mates that someone had robbed her. The poor sods still stuck her in a taxi and paid for it anyway.
About 3am i got another phone call from her mobile so i ignored it, it rang again so i answered ready for another torrent of abuse. It was her mum, she'd come in, argued with her mum and climbed (!) out of the window and run off. She asked me if she turned up at mine would i ring her and i said certainly, i doubt she would though given as she has no cash to get here.
The next morning i was organising a gig in the centre of town, so i had to go up to the next town to get some equipment. All the while i was texting her mates to let me know if she turns up at their doorstep or whatever. I get a phone call about 12 from her mate, they're in the city where they were due to meet (to shop) and she's there, in the same clothes, a bit cold and worse for wear but fine.
I felt better but i was worried about her, where she lived was in the sticks and the city was at least a good half an hours drive at least and she had fucked off at 3am with no money. I felt a bit weird, something didn't feel right but i was glad she was safe.
Later on that night i was at the gig sorting out the bands playing and she turned up looking rough. I found a quiet spot, I sat down with her and explained that i wasn't really chuffed at her abuse i got the previous night and the subsequent warning from my boss. She said she didn't remember properly but that she was sorry. I asked her how she got to the city and she said she hitchhiked and walked around for the rest of the time sobering up until meeting with her friends. I said that she could've been killed, I couldn't believe how things had got like that, I really cared for her and I was just so glad to see she was ok i just told her to forget it.
Time passed and everything was great, every so often there'd be the occasional drunk night but not as bad as that night at all. Then one night she came into the pub again with some friends and she was weirdly quiet. When she left she came up to the bar and told me she loved me before leaving, all a bit too weird - its hard to explain. Something wasn't right at all.
About 12:30am i get a phone call from her asking can we meet up the next day for a 'chat'. My mind was racing a bit, it felt like a break-up chat - "erm well, can't you tell me now what you want." - she wouldn't, she said she'd prefer to say in person. I said i wasn't in the mood to be messed around and did she want to break up. She went quiet, said no but there was something she wanted to tell me.
Eventually i got her to talk, my heart was in my stomach, i really didn't want her to break up with me.
She told me the while ago when she ran off and went to the 'city' (i want to say the name of the place but i want to maintain a degree of anonimity) - she did hitchhike her way there but prostituted herself as payment to the driver. She then had a bright idea of running away to another country and starting life anew with this unique career choice.
You know, its weird to explain but i'm sure there are a lot of people on here that must have felt this at one point - its like a fuse goes inside, not explodes, but like half the lights go out inside your body and you're not quite all there anymore.
I felt dead inside, not angry or upset just dead inside. I don't remember much after that i just remember asking her calmly to leave me alone for the night and i would talk to her the next day. I asked her why, and she said she didn't know, she said "it just seemed like a good idea." - i said "were you still drunk" - she said "no, i was sober then."
I didn't sleep, i went to work about 8am and just sat there (i wasn't working that day) and i text a friend of mine for help. She was the chef there and took me upstairs, i tried telling her about it and i lost it completely. I was hysterical, i was kicking cupboards and i just didn't know what to fucking do. Eventually i just went home and went to sleep. I came back out, told a few of my closer friends to explain why i was out of character and not with her and proceeded to get pissed.
I did meet up with her in the early evening, the dead feeling had come back and it was as if i didn't know her. She asked me if we could still stay together, because in her words "now i've told you you can forgive me because i've told you." - i said the only advantage to this situation is that no-one could fuck me mentally in such a way ever again, and that she needed mental help, she went off her head at that, i suppose securing she fact that she was a mentalist, and i just didn't see it.
I went out and had a 'time', i can't say good or bad because it was just needed. After that it contributed to my depression, i drank heavily, over the next couple of years i took anti-depressents all the while regretting that i couldn't have seen it before to help her. In my mind i couldn't get away from the idea that it couldn't be completely her fault and i must be to blame in some way. Anytime i saw her out though i'd just feel nauseuous and i'd go home.
The last time i saw her properly she was stood on the stairs in a venue and i was walking up, i only saw her at the last second and she looked at me, spat at me and called me a cnut for 'ruining her life'. I sat down with my mates, told them about it and that i wasn't bothered. I was, i was completely crushed.
Over time with help from friends and family i got out of my depression and away from the thoughts that i was to blame. I remember at the time not even talking to her friends about it to protect her afterwards subconciously. The funny thing is the mates she went to the pub with that night she told me decided it was too juicy to keep it a secret, so it was a combination of her doing it and them telling people that ruined her life, not me.
Now i'm 4 years older, i'm with an amazing girlfriend who treats me like i'm worth something. The friends and family i have are wonderful and fantastic supports, and when my depression does start to show it's head, with their help i keep it under control and lead a happy life.
My regret? It used to be that i felt i didn't see it sooner to help her, now, it might seem selfish but i wish i would've never met her in the first place. In my mind she doesn't exist. (edit : to explain 'doesn't exist' - i mean in the way that i don't think about it day to day or that i expect to see her around, this is the first time i've approached this subject in a long time, but it feels like a fitting closure to it, just because it happened so long ago and it doesn't hurt as much, i don't think it doesn't mean any less)
I apologise too about the lack of town names and city names, it felt good to get this off my chest but i'd still prefer a certain level of decorum about it.
( , Thu 12 Oct 2006, 11:56, Reply)
When i was 18 and at college, I met a girl who was pretty, easy going and a good laugh - ace i thought! The only dodgy point i could find is that she had a jekyll/hyde syndrome when it came to drink - she'd be this lovely, warm person and as soon as she was drunk she'd turn into a complete fucking nightmare. To me though her good points more than out-weighed it.
We went out for a long while having some really good times, when one night she came to the pub i was working at. She went out with a friend earlier on in the day and she was completely pissed. This wouldn't be so bad but she couldn't walk properly and she was being abusive.
She wanted a beer, i obviously couldn't serve her so i got her some water instead and got her to sit down, she kept getting back up and screaming what a cnut i was for not serving her. Thankfully and eventually some of my mates turned up and said they'd look after her and took her out of the pub. I said if she needs to get a taxi if someone could foot the bill and i'd square up when i finish.
When i finished i didn't get a phone call so i went straight home, i tried ringing her but it was just going straight to her answering machine. About 1am i got a phone call from her full of abuse and drunken gibberish, i tried calming her down as best as i could but eventually i had to end the call because it wasn't fair and i wasn't getting through - i'd done nothing wrong. It turns out she hadn't gone straight home, she'd gone to another pub, got pissed even more and wiped out her wages. All the while screaming at her mates that someone had robbed her. The poor sods still stuck her in a taxi and paid for it anyway.
About 3am i got another phone call from her mobile so i ignored it, it rang again so i answered ready for another torrent of abuse. It was her mum, she'd come in, argued with her mum and climbed (!) out of the window and run off. She asked me if she turned up at mine would i ring her and i said certainly, i doubt she would though given as she has no cash to get here.
The next morning i was organising a gig in the centre of town, so i had to go up to the next town to get some equipment. All the while i was texting her mates to let me know if she turns up at their doorstep or whatever. I get a phone call about 12 from her mate, they're in the city where they were due to meet (to shop) and she's there, in the same clothes, a bit cold and worse for wear but fine.
I felt better but i was worried about her, where she lived was in the sticks and the city was at least a good half an hours drive at least and she had fucked off at 3am with no money. I felt a bit weird, something didn't feel right but i was glad she was safe.
Later on that night i was at the gig sorting out the bands playing and she turned up looking rough. I found a quiet spot, I sat down with her and explained that i wasn't really chuffed at her abuse i got the previous night and the subsequent warning from my boss. She said she didn't remember properly but that she was sorry. I asked her how she got to the city and she said she hitchhiked and walked around for the rest of the time sobering up until meeting with her friends. I said that she could've been killed, I couldn't believe how things had got like that, I really cared for her and I was just so glad to see she was ok i just told her to forget it.
Time passed and everything was great, every so often there'd be the occasional drunk night but not as bad as that night at all. Then one night she came into the pub again with some friends and she was weirdly quiet. When she left she came up to the bar and told me she loved me before leaving, all a bit too weird - its hard to explain. Something wasn't right at all.
About 12:30am i get a phone call from her asking can we meet up the next day for a 'chat'. My mind was racing a bit, it felt like a break-up chat - "erm well, can't you tell me now what you want." - she wouldn't, she said she'd prefer to say in person. I said i wasn't in the mood to be messed around and did she want to break up. She went quiet, said no but there was something she wanted to tell me.
Eventually i got her to talk, my heart was in my stomach, i really didn't want her to break up with me.
She told me the while ago when she ran off and went to the 'city' (i want to say the name of the place but i want to maintain a degree of anonimity) - she did hitchhike her way there but prostituted herself as payment to the driver. She then had a bright idea of running away to another country and starting life anew with this unique career choice.
You know, its weird to explain but i'm sure there are a lot of people on here that must have felt this at one point - its like a fuse goes inside, not explodes, but like half the lights go out inside your body and you're not quite all there anymore.
I felt dead inside, not angry or upset just dead inside. I don't remember much after that i just remember asking her calmly to leave me alone for the night and i would talk to her the next day. I asked her why, and she said she didn't know, she said "it just seemed like a good idea." - i said "were you still drunk" - she said "no, i was sober then."
I didn't sleep, i went to work about 8am and just sat there (i wasn't working that day) and i text a friend of mine for help. She was the chef there and took me upstairs, i tried telling her about it and i lost it completely. I was hysterical, i was kicking cupboards and i just didn't know what to fucking do. Eventually i just went home and went to sleep. I came back out, told a few of my closer friends to explain why i was out of character and not with her and proceeded to get pissed.
I did meet up with her in the early evening, the dead feeling had come back and it was as if i didn't know her. She asked me if we could still stay together, because in her words "now i've told you you can forgive me because i've told you." - i said the only advantage to this situation is that no-one could fuck me mentally in such a way ever again, and that she needed mental help, she went off her head at that, i suppose securing she fact that she was a mentalist, and i just didn't see it.
I went out and had a 'time', i can't say good or bad because it was just needed. After that it contributed to my depression, i drank heavily, over the next couple of years i took anti-depressents all the while regretting that i couldn't have seen it before to help her. In my mind i couldn't get away from the idea that it couldn't be completely her fault and i must be to blame in some way. Anytime i saw her out though i'd just feel nauseuous and i'd go home.
The last time i saw her properly she was stood on the stairs in a venue and i was walking up, i only saw her at the last second and she looked at me, spat at me and called me a cnut for 'ruining her life'. I sat down with my mates, told them about it and that i wasn't bothered. I was, i was completely crushed.
Over time with help from friends and family i got out of my depression and away from the thoughts that i was to blame. I remember at the time not even talking to her friends about it to protect her afterwards subconciously. The funny thing is the mates she went to the pub with that night she told me decided it was too juicy to keep it a secret, so it was a combination of her doing it and them telling people that ruined her life, not me.
Now i'm 4 years older, i'm with an amazing girlfriend who treats me like i'm worth something. The friends and family i have are wonderful and fantastic supports, and when my depression does start to show it's head, with their help i keep it under control and lead a happy life.
My regret? It used to be that i felt i didn't see it sooner to help her, now, it might seem selfish but i wish i would've never met her in the first place. In my mind she doesn't exist. (edit : to explain 'doesn't exist' - i mean in the way that i don't think about it day to day or that i expect to see her around, this is the first time i've approached this subject in a long time, but it feels like a fitting closure to it, just because it happened so long ago and it doesn't hurt as much, i don't think it doesn't mean any less)
I apologise too about the lack of town names and city names, it felt good to get this off my chest but i'd still prefer a certain level of decorum about it.
( , Thu 12 Oct 2006, 11:56, Reply)
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