Journal 3: Describe a time you made a bad decision

I could write a book about the mistakes I’ve made; the bad decisions, the wrong turns, and the wrong people at the wrong time. Oddly, one of the best decisions I’ve made was pushing through the bad ones.

The most recent regret was peanut-butter-shakeageddon. The evil, acursed peanut butter milkshake. It’s a sinful creation, the temptation looming at the bottom of the cloud while the pain hides away up top. It doesn’t help that I binged on fast food last week either. I knew it would make me sick before I ate/drank it, it always does, but I never expected it to turn out as bad as it was. I was tempted to throw up all night and I was in and out of the bathroom. After that and a box of McNuggets, I’ve sworn myself off fast food for life. Maybe..

A far more long-term and social-earth-shattering decision occured during my naive younger days in high school. I wouldn’t totally chalk it up to egotism, but just extreme insecurity. What happened, you ask? Popularity. Or rather an attempt at it.

High school is one of those annoying places where everybody wants to be different with other people. I felt out of place all the time, even with a group of friends. I’ve never been a well-known person (but I like to think I am ) and seeing the jocks get the attention I craved made me jealous. The common sense(less) decision was to gain recognition. That wasn’t such a good idea..

I don’t know what drove me to crave the parfait of popularity. All I know is I got teeth-chatteringly envious when I saw someone be better than me, or be in a group I wanted to join.

So, I followed the leaders right into the light pole. I talked about sports, music, and cars; shooting the bull trying to look like I knew how to aim. I do like all those things but never to the extent to which I appeared to be. It’s like a car’s side mirror. You can see the cars but they look different. I thought I was fitting in.

It worked fairly quickly, but fell apart just as fast. Most of the friendships I made with people that walked through my façade fell through the entranceway. One by one they dropped off the radar, much like I did to them. I miss them but it’s all for the better I suppose.

The problem is, of course, that I was lying to myself. That’s pretty much first degree murder under the laws of self-esteem. Luckily, my friends now RAWK! I love them.

I don’t regret being facetious. At least I learned a lesson from it: Who I am and who I am not meant to be.