How the h*ck do we forgive other people? How the h*ck do we forgive ourselves?

Forgiveness. It’s an absolutely magical thing that is hardly ever merited. No one is perfect, which I’m sure goes without saying, but I always find myself needing a reminder. We are flawed through and through — we mess up, continuously, and we will likely never stop doing so.

Mistakes don’t make us bad people, right? I certainly hope not. I’ve wronged a lot of people in my life, a lot of good people I care about. Maybe it’s a good sign that I’m deeply troubled by my mistakes. I think to a degree it shows the recognition of my faults, but it also creates an unhealthy sense of self loathing.

I am a tad bit too obsessive with the mistakes I have made. They linger like morning breath, constantly sitting on the tongue ruining the taste of everything else. I have always had an extremely guilty conscience; I obsess over every mistake I make and think through absolutely every potential outcome. I think of how the person I’ve wronged will treat me, if they will ever choose to forgive me, if I have caused irreversible damage on their life.

However, the hardest struggle to overcome is the battle to forgive myself. If I had just shut my mouth, if I had just not been there at that time, if only I had been there. As a perpetual over thinker, I learn to hate my actions. Sometimes, I even regret my own existence, feeling like a burden to those around me. I know that’s a harmful thought, but hiding that in the depths of a confused mind will only make matters worse.

I don’t know how to forgive myself, at all. If others don’t forgive me I struggle to find a reason why I should either.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. You will never understand. None of you. None of you will feel the intense copious amount of guilt I carry around everywhere I go. I still cary around the regrets of a middle-schooler, the mistakes of a young teenager, and certainly those of a confused-as-heck first year in college.

I’m not terribly convinced life gets any easier, that my bag of guilt will ever shrink, but maybe I ought to build up bigger muscles. Make the burden lighter…