Guilt

It’s weird because I’m just plagued with this idea that I can’t ever be worthy of good things. All of the praise I receive from allies or family and friends means nothing. Just because I have so much guilt and shame from actions in my past. I don’t know why I feel the need to type this out? I think it’s just because I’m someone who needs to show the world who I am before they make assumptions. I work so hard to be a kind person because I haven’t been in my past. I don’t like pretending or masquerading as some perfect human. I’ve learned to work on myself because I’ve hurt others.

I went to rehab when I was 23. Following a horrific string of drinking and drug mishaps. I put my parents through hell and they supported me through every step. I had a girlfriend at the time who took the brunt of the situation by trying to support me and I ended up breaking it off with her. I just wasn’t available. I loved her and cherished her. But I was consumed with just getting drunk. She was there for me and I got enough independence to move on and I did. Because I had spent years without it and without attention. And I wanted those things more.

I’ll never forgive myself for my parents supporting me when I didn’t deserve it. I’m why I don’t want to be a parent. They put me through rehab, they tried to help me through school, they paid my lawyer fees for a DUI. The entire time I felt like they were trying to kill the party when they were literally just watching their child die and wanted to save him. But I kept drinking and doing coke because I felt like I was rebellious. No matter how much I achieve I’ll never forgive myself for that. My goal in life is to make them proud and I’ve never asked them for a dime since I left rehab.

I met a woman when I was in hair school at 24. She and I didn’t mesh but I liked her. We ended up moving quickly and became a great couple. I told myself at 26 that I was ready for marriage and I absolutely wasn’t. I had literally just gotten a taste for freedom and independence and I turned my addiction in to codependency and bulimia. She became my first wife. It was a mistake. Not because she wasn’t amazing but because I was a fucking child. She was in love with me and I wasn’t with her. The realization dawned on me and while we had such a solid friendship I wasn’t the partner she deserved. I stayed too long. I cheated on her. I moved her to Los Angeles to pursue my dreams and then divorced her. I’ll never feel like I deserve anything because of that. No amount of “but I was young” can justify betraying someone. Sure. I was young. But I know people who are the age I was when it happened who are literally at the pique of their careers, marriages, and lives. No excuse.

That demon and rot will live in my gut forever. Knowing that I was able to do that. Even moving forward and having to tell every partner I was unfaithful to my first wife. I want to say this so no one ever is able to act like they’re pulling the rug. So I don’t feel like everyone knows some secret. I don’t have to so maybe this is dumb but I want to be all the way authentic. I’ll tell you. But you know what? I’d never wish that on anyone and I’d never do that again. That’s the only gift I took from that experience. I’d die before I betrayed my word to anyone especially a partner.

I was a great husband to my second wife. But what does that even mean. I was a mess. My mental health was at best disastrous. My eating disorder was worse than it had ever been, I had panic attacks, I was between careers. She took amazing care to build up my mental health and confidence. She helped me cure my eating disorders. I spent the rest of that marriage doing the same. I was fiercely loyal…I would have never and never even thought about cheating on her…and would have been with her until my last breath. But I would have done so ignoring the glaring fact that we weren’t compatible. So I did the interior work. But my karma for the ghosts of the past came when she left me and allowed me to realize that in every situation the chickens come home to roost. I ran from my issues and my own brain for too long. So I’m sitting in that darkness of solitude getting to know my own brain. I’m human. I’ve made mistakes. But no matter how much I talk about those mistakes and try to forgive myself for them…I don’t think I ever will. I probably didn’t have to write this. But I wanted to. I want everyone who knows me to realize how dedicated I am to loving them. Because I know I can make someone’s day, or fuck up their life.

Everyone makes mistakes is such a bullshit cliche. I’ll never let myself off the hook for putting my parents, partners, and allies through the pain I was experiencing. But. If you’re in my life now? I’m always going to be there for you. Even if I don’t like you. Even if you’ve hurt me. Even if you’re going through things. Not sure if I’ll ever love myself but I will sure as shit make everyone else feel loved. So now you know. Maybe these things are paltry but I don’t feel right not disclosing them.