Fixer Upper

I blog often about my struggle to be a better person. Sometimes I’m successful, others times no so much. But I try.

A while back I had to push someone out of my life. He didn’t understand why. And rather than use the experience to refocus his own life and make changes for the better, he has let insecurities from childhood cripple any chance of growing from it. Lately, we’ve sorta crossed paths. He goes out of his way to snub me, which is understandable. But now, since his attempts to draw me into an argument failed, he has resorted to emailing me about how great his life is and how “I” messed up. (And even though he isn’t supposed to read my blog anymore , I know he still does….I wasn’t born last night after all.) Anyway, if he has, in fact, done all these things he says then my efforts weren’t wasted. If his anger at me spurned him to take action and make changes for the better, nothing would make me happier.

Unfortunately, I don’t believe it. I think it’s just another ploy to lash out at me. Nothing I can do about it now though. I tried for many many years to help him move beyond his anger and resentment. I tried to explain things from a better perspective. Tried till I was blue in the face. It went in one ear and right out the other. So, I’m done now. Now, if he is to make anything of himself, it will have to be on his own. And maybe that’s how it should have been all along. I’m left to wonder if my help was a deterrent. My own growth didn’t come about until I sat down and examined my actions. No one was there to point me in the right direction. I had to figure it out for myself.

Ironically, my friend is a reminder of how far I’ve come in my own life. We grew up very similar in that we were both abused as children. Sure, I could spend my life bitter at the world for all the things I didn’t get, all the wrongs inflicted on me. But where would that leave me? What does it get me? Nothing. Well, except misery. And folks, misery begets misery. I watched misery eat ate my step-mother for years. I’m watching it play out between two of my brothers now. One brother by birth and the other by choice. Both equally sad. (The brother by birth is another story unto itself. I’ll crack it one of these days.)

I tend to be a “fixer”. I like to help people. One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned in my life is there are some things you can’t fix if the person involved isn’t willing.