The Shame Game 

….The least of which is grace. 

Grace (noun): approval, favor, mercy, pardon, an act of kindness, courtesy or clemency.

Grace.

I cannot count how many hours I’ve spent agonizing over things I’ve done, said, or taken part in. The guilt has kept me up at night. Overwhelmed me into to comatose states in the daylight. Left me dazed for days. Random and seemingly forgotten memories/behaviors resurfacing to incinerate that strong woman vibe I unsuccessfully try to own. The transgressions of the past seem to overshadow any good I do currently. It’s yucky-to say the least. 

It’s the shame game. 

Shame (noun): a painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behavior.

One thing I’ve learned since giving up the bottle is that I can’t move forward by constantly checking the rearview mirror. Yeah, yeah, I am using that cliche. It is an accurate representation nonetheless-the analogy works. I’ve known this logic for some time. I know all of this in my head, but my heart won’t take heed. It’s a process. One that I have struggled with almost daily. 

But here is the reality: there is no time machine. There is no way to go back and fix all the stuff that embarrasses and shames us. 

There is a wide breadth of people who extoll the notion that you shouldn’t have any regrets because whatever you have done, whatever you have been through—has made you, the you, you are today. In theory I can see that. In theory. But theories don’t always hold water. I think you can have regrets and still understand that you wouldn’t be exactly the same version of yourself today. That isn’t strictly a bad thing. For instance: you wouldn’t be punishing yourself incessantly for saying that thing to that guy at that bar in 1992. Inherently a good thing. I don’t think having no regrets makes you somehow invincible or all knowing anymore than I think having regrets makes you a sniveling idiot. To me: Forgiveness is the more important factor in all of this. Forgiveness of self. And that, my friends, has been the crux of the issue for me. 

The dulling of my senses, my emotions, my reality for years only proved to nullify my ability to forgive myself. I denied myself the grace I extended to just about everyone else. I held myself hostage in the bad girl box. I showered myself in guilt because of stupid mistakes, that literally almost every teen and early twenties kid makes. I sat in shame and flogged myself. I desperately tried to be so perfect, and get everyone to like me, to make up for all the mishaps and missteps and saying of the wrong things at the wrong times. 

When all along, what I really needed was to forgive myself.

Forgiveness. They say it is a noun but I think it is closer to a verb. Don’t tell my Lit. Professor I said that.  

I am a Bible reader. I believe that we all fall short many times, and if we are humble and ask, coupled with the deep desire to change (insert unwanted behavior here) God forgives us. The thing I have a hard time with is forgiving myself. I know I’m not alone in this—at least in principle. The knowing, understanding and doing are three very distinct steps. I’ve got the first two pretty much down. The third has proven elusive. 

Then l I quit drinking. 

I haven’t done the math to figure out why. Heck, I’ve avoided math beyond balancing my checkbook and multiplying cups of flour for a double batch of Chocolate Chip Cookies, since 1987 HS graduation! Maybe it’s all the podcasts and books I’ve ingested. Maybe it’s the sinking in of not having a time machine. Maybe it’s the prayers. Maybe it’s the countless hours of therapy. Maybe it’s the new awareness of all things self  sabotage and not wanting to be my own worst enemy. Maybe it’s removing that gauzy film booze always provided. I can see clearly now the rain has gone…  Bottom line is, a majority of the time, I’m letting those painful, heart stopping shameful memories just float on through.  

(Side-note: Have you heard of the cloud thing? Therapists, mindfulness practitioners and life coaches use it a lot in the last decade. (Clouds are the new rearview mirror.) The idea is that your thoughts are clouds, and when something comes up (insert negative self talk here) one only has to acknowledge it as a thought and then send it on its way. Let it float by.) 

So—all of this is to say, that for some reason, and I honestly can’t explain it, the logic of it has reached my heart. Sober— I’m finally getting it. Finally allowing myself to move on. 

I am ready to forgive myself.

Or at least, trying really hard to. Because: what’s done is done. 

So I am bowing out of the shame game.

If I need to make apologies, amends, whatever you want to call it, I already have or will. I approach this not with pompous righteousness, but with humility. Owning up to the past, looking for change in the future.

So, at 713 days sober, I am giving myself a little bit of peace. A little bit of grace. 

And once again chanting my Maya Angelou motto:

Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better. 

Here’s me forgiving myself. 

And doing better.