Forgiveness

I am not a very forgiving person. Really. I'm working to overcome my tendencies to hold grudges, but for now, I am not very forgiving. Everything you say/do/think can and will probably be used against you in some way or form whenever I end up being angry at you. You might find that unfair, and I absolutely agree with that finding. Why do I do that? The past is the past, right? We've already gotten over this, haven't we?
You would hope so, wouldn't you.
About a month ago, I was speaking with someone (let's call him Bob, just for fun) about forgiveness. The conversation was about one individual: me.
I told Bob that, despite all the horrible things other people have done to me, I hate myself more than anyone else. Bob asked me why. I explained that I just feel weak and stupid. I know better than all these things. How could I allow myself to be so moronic? I feel evil. I feel bad. I hate myself.
I told Bob about the things I had done. I told him that I blame myself for leaving my marriage. If I had tried harder, maybe my ex-husband wouldn't have wanted the things he wanted any more, and maybe he would've gotten better and wouldn't still be lost in sin. If I had been stronger, maybe my "friend" from years and years ago would have gotten better and would have stopped abusing me, and I could've gotten her some help. If I was not so lazy, maybe I would do better at work. If I was not so weak, maybe I could overcome the anxiety. If I was not so angry, maybe I would be better and I wouldn't snap at people. If I was good, perhaps God wouldn't have to punish me with the crippling darkness of depression.
Bob sat in silent thought for a moment, and then told me to keep thinking about all the things I hated about myself. He told me to think of all the things I have done wrong. Then he said, "If someone else, a friend, maybe, came up to you and told you all of these things, would you hate them? Or would you try to convince them that they aren't as bad as they think they are?"
All the fiery rage I felt toward myself blew out into a smokey fog of thought.
"I wouldn't hate them," I admitted.
"Then why do you hate yourself so much?" Bob asked.
I had no good answer to that.
Since that conversation, I've still been struggling with myself. It's a constant wrestling match, just without the crowds and ridiculous outfits. I fight against my hate and my anger, and I can never seem to gain an advantage.
Then I was at my parents' house for a weekend, and while I sat in my old room, I saw a picture of me, when I was four, on the dresser. I was a cute kid. It's really a shame that I grew out of being adorable. But anyway. I looked at the little girl in the picture. Soon after this was taken, she would be abused by a cousin, then she would start to hallucinate, and she would have a "friend" who would threaten to kill her...so much would happen to this child. And I began to feel that anger ignite within me again, and instead of thinking that my four-year-old self was adorable, I started to hate her. Surely, signs of my stupidity and general lack of goodness were already manifest at this age. I was disgusted with her...I was disgusted with me.
I started to dwell on the things that I experienced as a child, a teenager, and then a young adult. And I realized that I had become what I never wanted to become...I had taken on the role of the abuser. I wasn't hurting anyone else, but I was maiming myself. I let my "friend" go, and then continued to torture the little girl who had already been through so much. Why could I offer her no comfort? Why couldn't I grant myself any forgiveness?
Since this realization, I have been trying to look at myself differently, with less bias. I despise many things about me, but the disgust is not as strong. I no longer believe that I am evil. I am not always good, but I am not an instrument of destruction (that would be giving myself way too much credit, anyway). I am not bad.
I'm still working on it, of course. To say that I no longer hate myself would be a lie. I'm still struggling with how I view myself. But I think, I hope, that wanting to like myself and desiring to forgive myself is a step in the right direction.

Fate

I was watching the preview for Disney's Brave while I was in the theatre with my family, waiting for The Avengers to begin. One of the lines in the trailer is, "If you had the chance to change your fate, would you?" My mother leaned over to me and asked, "Would you?" I think she expected me to say yes. Instead, I honestly answered, "I don't know."
I've been thinking about it for a few days now. Would I change my path, my course, if I could? Would I banish my trials and my afflictions if a magic spell could do it for me? Would I change my past to become someone else?
For those of you who do not know me, there are good reasons that my mom thought I would immediately acquiesce to a chance at changing my fate. My life has been uneasy, dark, hellish. Several events in my life, along with a serious illness, have brought me pain, torture, and almost to death as I tried to commit suicide. Why wouldn't I change my fate?
First, I would not change my fate because I do not believe in fate. I believe we each have choices. Some things are out of our control. Sometimes, life sucks. Sometimes we lose things or people for no reason; it's not for our personal growth. Sometimes things are just gone. Pieces of our soul die and leave when bad things in life transpire, and we are often left desolate and broken. But that is not the end. Defeat is not our fate, because fate does not exist. We can not always choose the roads that life gives us, but we can choose how we walk on the paths. We can not always choose where we go, but we can choose how we get there. We can not always choose to be happy with our lot in life, but we can choose to keep going. There is no fate that leaves us broken and bloody on a path filled with loose gravel and sharp glass. We can choose to get up and walk, or even to crawl if we must.
So I could not change my fate because I do not believe in it. I would not change my past, though. I have recently realized why some things in my life occurred. I hate those experiences. The memories of those trials still harrow up my soul, often until I am left breathless from pain and I am curled up in the fetal position, wishing that the pain would just stop. I have often and still often hate my past. But I would not change it, because I am beginning to realize where I would be without the experiences I have had. I would not be happy. I am not always happy now, but I would be worse off without going through what I have.
I certainly have not always been this way. It's taken me about ten years to draw the conclusion that, maybe, my experiences have actually been for my good. I fought against this realization for a decade. I hate that these things were necessary, but I am beginning to learn, and I find myself humbled that I was allowed to be hurt so that I could avoid greater agonies.
And yet, I still hate all that has transpired. Let me be clear: I am not grateful for my experiences, but I am grateful that I could grow from them. I am glad that I have continued to crawl down the road of life upon which I find myself. Though I am often bruised and cut and bleeding from my broken life, I am still going.
Would I change my past? No. Would I repeat it? No way. But I will learn and continue forward. I know where I've been. I've memorized that path. I will focus on my future, on the road before me. I'll get through the broken glass and scalding asphalt, and I won't change my course. To change my course, or my "fate," would be to change my past, which would change who I am. I'm not often pleased with myself, but I want to change that. But I don't need a spell to do it.

Welcome

Here is my cliche "welcome to the blog" post. Since I typically dislike most cliche things, this post will be short. So, here we go...
1. Welcome to the blog
2. Thanks for coming
3. I hope you find it useful
4. This blog is for writing some "deeper thoughts," most of which will probably not be serious or relevant, but some that you might find useful
5. Come again
6. Bye now