Pain and Regret: Learning to Live With the Choices We Cannot Change
“Hold every person close to your heart because you might wake up one day and realize that you’ve lost a diamond while you were too busy collecting stones.” — Anonymous
Regret ranks high in human emotions. At times I reflect on my life and my bad decisions. Making a wrong decision is agonizing, but emotional pain lingers… it’s painful. A person has to face the consequences of a bad decision… it has a price. The real suffering enters when I constantly question myself. Why did I make that decision?
Sometimes the consequences are small. Other times it involves a lost opportunity or a broken relationship; I’ve experienced both. Enter the perpetual questioning: what would my life have been like if I had chosen differently? “What if? What if? What ifing?” It’s a sad state of affairs living with regret. Roll the clock back years ago when I was a psychologist at Yokosuka Naval Hospital making a health and comfort visit to two military members.
It was a late afternoon in August and I was driving on crowded Route 16 snaking my to Yokosuka Japanese Prison, which was built in 1883 during the Meiji period. The confinement facility housed U.S. military members convicted of felony crimes. The stark appearance resembled an abandoned building. At the entrance, I passed glass display cases filled with prisoner made shoes, wooden boats, figurines, Japanese masks and wooden statues. Entering, a uniformed guard greeted me, slightly bowing.
Walking the dark hallway, I inhaled a mix of lingering stale odors from decades ago. A musty draft circulated throughout the corridor. The clammy air reeked of a forgotten era as though time itself were held captive against eternity’s frontier. Inside the prison walls, time stopped for the prisoners, all linked together by anti-social behavior. Walking the cellblock, I passed rows of stark, hot, dimly lit concrete cells. I looked at the prisoners filled with despair, as though each prisoner had taken the vow of poverty.
Reaching the two men, they were lifeless with cryptic stares. Entering their cell, I introduced myself; one man started crying pleading for his release. Both men wiped their brows with small towels as my shirt saturated with sweat. We sat quietly, pondering the significance of the moment.
I asked them if they were married. One said yes, the other said his ex-girlfriend sent him a Dear John letter. I replied, “That’s tough. What’s next?” Both replied, “No more relationships.” Then the prisoner serving 25 years asked: “Do you think a man’s pain is different from a woman’s pain?” I replied, “To me pain is pain.” Then the fellow serving 50 years said: “No way. A man’s pain runs deep.” The other man said, “It’s hard for a man to shake off pain.” The man serving 50, added, “Women have more friends. It’s easier for them to shake off pain.”
After a moment I replied, “I only want happiness and peace. Both are difficult to obtain.” The guy serving 25 replied, “Happiness is elusive, so is peace. As long as I have moments of peace, I’m happy. Being in jail is peaceful, but I’m not happy.” The 50-year guy stated, “I have degrees of happiness, but no peace.” “Why no peace?” I asked. He answered, “I made a big mistake. I made an emotional decision and it cost me everything.” He said sadly. “I haven’t been able to resolve my pain. I live a life of regret every day.” I looked at him for a moment; the other fellow had his head down. “I see your dilemma. Underneath your frustration is resentment, under resentment is anger, under the anger is pain, and under the pain is shame and guilt that you brough to your family and yourself.” He quietly wept stating, “I never thought of it like that.”
As I was leaving, the guy serving 50-years said, sadly: “I made a bad decision.” I replied: “A bad decision doesn’t make you a bad person. Just examine what you knew at the time. Unfortunately, now you have to take responsibility for your behavior.” The guy serving 25 years said: “Easy for you to say. You’re free. I’m a failure,” he said with sad eyes. “Don’t let regret punish you, then it becomes destructive,” I replied. The 50-year guy looked at me defiantly: “Just get us some American food. I can’t do nato, seaweed, and fish anymore.”
When I left, it was evening. I felt bad for them. They both ended their relationships violently out of rejection, rage, jealousy and self-pity. Regret is an emotional experience. It reflects our capacity to remember, evaluate, imagine alternatives and think of personal responsibility. But a bad decision is an event in one’s life, not a permanent definition of one’s identity.
Psychologist Erik Erikson talks about regret and the stages of life. Erikson believed that human development continues throughout life. During later adulthood, individuals often reflect on their lives. They may ask: Did I live a meaningful life? Did I fulfill my responsibilities? Did I love the people who mattered? Did I make the right choices? What opportunities did I miss? Erikson proposed that accepting one’s life, including its imperfections, contributes to integrity. His central idea was maturity involves accepting that a meaningful life does not require a perfect history.
If you want to torture yourself by mentally imagining how events could have turned out differently, ask yourself these questions: “If only I had accepted that job.” “If only I had not trusted that person.” “If only I had invested my money differently.” “If only I had listened to my family.” Here you go again…“ifing”! Don’t get trapped imagining. That’s a bear trap! Pain and Regret.
About the Author:
Hilary Valdez is a freelancer living in Tokyo, Japan. He is an experienced Mental Health professional and Resiliency Trainer. Valdez is a former Marine and has worked with the military most of his career and most recently worked at Camp Zama as a Master Resiliency Trainer. Valdez now has a private practice and publishes books on social and psychological issues. His books are available on Amazon and for Kindle. Learn more about Valdez and contact him at his website or email (InstantInsights@hotmail.com). Follow his YouTube channel Hilary’s Quick Talk for more insights.
Comments