One Common Denominator

My life is a series of spectacular failures. I was talking to my psychiatrist about all of the relationships I've had, and how they've all gone down in flames, and he said something very profound. Profound, and profoundly depressing.

"In all of your failed relationships, what is the one common denominator? It's you."

He's right. There's an old saying that once is a fluke, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern, and four or more is evidence. When relationships keep failing and falling apart, there are only so many times I can blame luck, fate, the other person, or circumstance. When it keeps happening, it's pretty solid evidence that I am the problem.

This applies to the rest of my life. My procrastination, my inability or unwillingness to see what's really happening, my stunningly selfish desires and many other deep character flaws too tedious to list are the problem. I am the problem. I keep fucking things up in my life. I am evil. Sometimes I feel like my life is a swirling, dark whirlpool of misery, but the truth is, I am the center of that whirlpool, the heart of the darkness that surrounds me.

I imagine I could be content if I had something in my life that I didn't consistently screw up. I could put up with my tiresome, low-paying job and my loneliness if I could organize some part of my life, whether that be something creative, or just organizing fun stuff with my friends or with my daughter. Unfortunately, I can't plan shit. If I were put in charge of organizing a three-car parade, I'd find a way to fuck that up. So in addition to wasting my life doing a monkey's job, the rest of my life is a shambles, too. Motherfucker.

Days like today make me want to become a drunk. If I were an alcoholic, at least I'd have some reason for screwing up that people could immediately identify. Instead, there's no-one and nothing to blame but me. Instead of a light obscured and covered by the darkness of illness or addiction, I am the darkness itself.