Forgiveness

All evidence suggests that I am not a forgiving person. I don't go easy on people. I don't go easy on myself, either, but that's hardly a good thing.

I personally believe you should never ask of others what you are not willing to do yourself. I also believe that I should hold myself to a higher standard than anyone expects of me. In the words of Henry Beecher "Never excuse yourself."

This means that when I fail (because even if the world doesn't count it as a failure, I do) I am the one kicking myself many times over, much more than anyone else can.

Yes, I'm back in school, after years long of a hiatus, but if I had just smartened up the first time around, I could have saved myself so much time.

Yes, I did pay off around 8000 dollars worth of debt in 2 years, but if I had just used my credit cards responsibly the first time around, just imagine what I could have done. (I could have had a house by now.)

When I depend on people (a rare event) and they don't measure up, I don't ask them for anything ever again. I normally don't speak to them ever again either. There is evidence of this throughout my life as well.

But maybe I am a picky, forgiving person. At least, my experience with my parents seems to suggest so.

Speaking quite frankly, my parents both have somewhat of an addictive history. My mother still seems to be struggling with this.

The rub is this: why do I hold my father up as an example of strong will, and look down my nose at my mothers' lack of success?

It's a good question, that only became more aware to me tonight, because I just finished reading David Carr's "The Night of the Gun", a memoir that he wrote which included all kinds of detail of how he skipped from journalist to coke head to father to alcoholic back to journalist in no real succession, sometimes being all of these things at once.

He speaks about the difficulty of finally deciding to get clean and stay clean from coke, and his unforeseen (at least by himself) journey into alcoholism.

The reason this story touched me so deeply on somewhat of a raw nerve (okay, a very raw nerve) is that what am I doing right, that both parents are highly addictive personalities (chain smokers, the lot of them) and here I am, wondering if I should pick up a bottle of pinot noir to compliment my steak.

In case you missed my implication, I'm not someone easily addicted to anything. I actually have a hard time sticking to anything. My longest relationship was a year and 4 months, (although my current relationship is catching up quick) and I was deeply obsessed at the time, but that would have to be the closest to addiction, or long standing addiction I've ever gotten. I don't drink much. I don't feel the need to. I don't feel like dealing with the consequences the morning after enough to drink all night (or day), and I hate needles so I'd never go near syringe sports (my word for drugs that can be applied with a needle). I have asthma so I don't like smoking anything, pot and cigarettes included. I didn't like my dependency on caffeine, so I weaned myself off it just to say I could. I'm on a cup a day now, and that's if I remember.

So where did I get so lucky in avoiding addiction, and where do I get off, blaming my mother more than my father, for not completely winning the fight with hers?

It all leads back to forgiveness, and my unwillingness to do so.