A rant about family, giving chances, and how I’m done with both.

I’m angry. And really, really disappointed.

And I can’t seem to figure out how to start this. It feels so mundane and I can’t imagine anyone would benefit from reading this but I need to write it.

This weekend, the first one I’ve really spent by myself since gf left, has not been a good one. That depressive streak has settled in and now everything else is settling over it like ash.

There’s a lot I’ve been thinking about and I’m not sure that this in any way all of it. And I’m pretty sure that the thread I think is here actually isn’t. But this is how it looks in my head, and while there are probably about three actual pieces here, I need to get this one out first.

Here goes.

I’m going to talk about bad behavior in this, but I need to stress that I don’t believe, in most cases, anyway, that people are bad. I think most of us are just trying to survive. Some of us just have better techniques than others.

In my heart, I believe that people are good. I will give so many — probably too many — chances because everyone fucks up. Most of us act from places of pain far easier than from places of compassion, and I try like hell to give people the opportunity to come from that second place. I know I’ve needed multiple attempts, and I’m always grateful to those who are good enough to offer them.