Forgiveness. Life would be easier if we only forgave ourselves.

Until a few years ago, the hardest thing I had to forgive myself was making stupid decisions about men. That was it. Forgive me for not going after the ones I wanted and forgive me for letting those I could care less about take advantage over me.

Forgiveness was easy back then.

The year my dad got sick was a busy year in my life. I have to forgive myself for not spending more time with my father. For letting him go through so much alone when I always wanted to be there for him but just couldn’t bare to see him fade away. I have forgive myself for all the harsh thoughts I had. Believing that if only he wanted to live, he could fight the cancer. The cancer that only took 3 months to end his life.

I have to forgive myself for letting myself get completely drawn into the world of alcohol after he passed. Forgive myself for blurring out the remainder of that year, for gaining 80 pounds over a span of 6 months and for wallowing. I have to let myself understand that it was OK to get depressed.

It’s hard to forgive oneself. It’s even harder to think someone who has passed would forgive you.

In the long run, I have to forgive myself for never taking care of my body. For letting it balloon up. Sometimes I give myself such a hard time for it, but in the end I just have to forgive myself.

Read all I’ve got to write about here.