I'm so tired of making amends and mending fences. I'm not even in a twelve-step program, so I have no idea why I feel compelled to continue this crusade. It matters not to me whether I'm angry with you or you're angry with me, I feel like I have to see if we can "fix" it. There are even people that I've never been friends with, but that are important to others in my life, that I somehow feel I need to find and friend, if possible.
I have, at least, learned to draw the line at recent random acquaintances that have a beef with me. One has to start somewhere, and I've decided to concentrate on the oldest relationships first and work forward. I may, one day, get to the folks that are recently mad at me, but I won't worry about them just yet. The peril of popularity is that we piss people off and they don't even tell us for fear of retribution by our posse. My problem is that it took me most of my almost sixty years to realize that I was popular and that therein lay the problem.
It would be so much easier to sit and sulk, but I can't reclaim my memories without making amends because something always stands between me and them. I once heard that attempting to block bad memories is like trying to play the piano with one's elbow. As you hit the keys you want to hit, your elbow will also strike the adjacent keys. Memories are like adjacent piano keys; I have to face the fear to find the fun.
I'm starting with the easy steps, my oldest and dearest friends, and the nieces and nephews (children of deceased siblings) who only remember the adult me. I'll practice on them before facing first-degree family. With luck, I won't live long enough to have to brave those beasts, but I am preparing myself for whatever jumps out at me.
Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I can face this wedding with the people from my past that will also be attending.