A gypsy of intergalactic proportions in search of a higher meaning and potato chips.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Forgiveness
I am one of those people who has a hard time forgiving, especially themselves. Rarely do I not punish myself by when I make even a simple mistake. When sizable things happen, I will sit for hours and think about what I did to the point where I'm so low in a pit that it's hard to get out.
I've become a good climber in the way that I can push my problems to the back of my mind. Bottling it up, I guess you could call it. Those problems just ferment and get stronger as time goes on because I do nothing about them. I've only ever once lost control and just overflowed with every emotion imaginable at once (that was scary). I don't know how to handle it any other way. I'm not an angry person and I'm not about to let myself become one. Instead of perfecting my climbing skills, I would much rather learn to stop beating myself up for every single mistake I've ever committed.
When I was a kid, whenever I did something wrong, my mom would make me sit in the corner and think about what I did. Eventually, she got me so well trained that when I did something wrong without her knowing, I would still put myself in the corner. I punished myself. It's obvious where my mentality derives from. That's not a bad method for raising children, better that than spanking or worse. However, that mixed with everything else going on in my childhood, it just screwed with my conception. I learned that I was not allowed to make mistakes or my mom would yell at me (I cannot stand yelling, and my mom has a great set of pipes on her). That's transferred rather nicely into adulthood.
Some people physically mutilate themselves. Mentally, I do the same thing.
I need to learn that I am human and I am allowed to make mistakes. Let go, Kelsy. Let go.
I need to forgive myself.
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