A part of the problem with being in recovery (oh, the perpetual recovery!) is that long process of apologizing for all the wrongs you did when you were not in your right mind.
Okay, it's not a PROBLEM; it's an important step in the journey, and certainly one that I don't regret taking (except at times of great stress when the call of the Smirnoff sounds in the distance), but do you have any idea how long I've been apologizing to people?
Seriously, facebook has made the job faster, but I have to tell you; I'm not apologizing for them, I'm apologizing for me, and when I do, they look at me as if they can't believe I still remember a sin I committed in 1983.
Here's a newsflash.
I DO.
Now, the thing of it is, I'm supposed to eventually be able to forgive myself for these things, these grievances. And that, my friends, is the problem.
I CAN'T.
Like a mental photo album, I have a picture of every single thing I can remember from that time that was inhuman. And folks, I MAJORED in inhuman. With a minor in torture. I lied, I cheated, I scammed......it was, quite frankly, my world and everybody else just rented.
And every waking hour from the time I woke up bloody and alone, I have sought repentance. And I hope it's been enough.
Because I don't think fate's done with me yet.
I think I have one or two more hurdles left to leap.
Honestly. Not looking forward to it.
But I'll do it.
Because it's the right thing to do.
And in the end, "For those who understand, no explanation is necessary, and for those who don't understand, no explanation will suffice."
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3 comments:
i love you.
Lots of love in my heart for you too Clemo.
What ever you did it couldn't be any worse than anything any of us have done in our worst moments and sometimes with the best intentions... we still do wrong. Very wrong.
I'm sad that you seem to be the only one sending yourself the bill.
Anyone I have wronged and the list is long has never asked me to pay them back...
they've just simply said...
Its okay. And I love you.
But getting myself to say that... to myself...hard to do.
Your not alone.
Not at all.
It's the memory that makes these parts a bitch. I remember all the shit I ever did badly. Or at least I think I do until someone walks up and reminds me how much more of a shit I was than I even remember. This part sucks.
Sorry.
xoxox
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