forgive yourself
I’m not the best person to ask about forgiving themselves, but I hope that changes in time. Through everything that I’ve struggled with, I always thought in the back of my head that it was somehow my fault. Certain doctors made me believe that it was my behavior that led me to where I was, and I always felt ashamed when I couldn’t meet their expectations and check lists. Now, I cannot say that I shouldn’t be blamed for some of the events that occurred because I did make mistakes, and I did hurt the people I love throughout it. But when you break it down into the basics of my mental health, I need to learn how to forgive myself for what I’ve done and remove the blame regarding the things I was unable to control.
When things started to disintegrate in my life, my immediate reaction was to keep it a secret and not tell anyone. Because I was doing some things (like taking more medication than I was prescribed) that I knew were wrong. And I genuinely believed that my symptoms were caused by this selfish habit, and I had to deal with them on my own. I never thought that my behavior may actually be the result of a mental health condition and not the cause. I built this idea that it was temporary, and as soon as I stopped, it would go away. And I truly believed that one day it would just stop. During my depressive episodes, I’d lay in bed without moving all day, and then pretended I had a great day when my significant other came home. I delayed the healing process and removed the opportunity for my family and loved ones to help. And I eventually learned to forgive myself for that.
When I did finally confide in my family, I was at a point of no return. It was obvious to them that something was happening to me, and they immediately started asking questions when they saw me after a few months. But I didn’t have many answers. They knew about the trauma. I told them about the addiction. And other than that, we were all sort of winging it. And I can’t say that I was ever mad at myself for being in that position because I truly had no control and at the time, I didn’t know what made it better or worse. I was delusional. I thought I was being followed. I threw my phone away because I thought the FBI tapped it. I reported politicians and famous people to the FBI’s hotline for following me. I called the police on family members when I got stuck into a bad flashback and I thought they were going to hurt me. How can a person be mad at themselves for doing these things when I was so clearly broken and not okay?
My siblings are special to me in this process. While they also treated me with delicate fingers when I needed it like everyone else, they also held me accountable for certain things that I did. And it made me feel more human. I was able to get solid advice and I was told when I stepped out of line. My four parents did the same thing, but not in the way my siblings did. And even though this is true about them, they also never hold it against me and support me in my healing journey, applauding when I ultimately do better. And everyone that I know believes I deserve forgiveness and grace.
So, I’m working on it. Art, writing, and poetry help me a lot. It helps me to understand what really happened and why it did. Reasons form from my paint brush and anxiety is relived with a poem. My biggest fear is that something else might happen, and I get scared I won’t be able to handle it when it does. But I have learned. I’ve worked and beat the disorders that put my life on hold. And after forgiving myself, believing in myself is next to come, so, stay tuned.
