Forgiving Yourself

No. 3 – February 1, 2018

My name is Chad Mast. Welcome to The Masculine Fire.

Disclaimer: This post will contain adult language. If you’re offended by the use of curse words, then please opt out of reading this.

I’m fucking sick of myself. So much so that it’s hard to look at myself in the mirror in the morning and love the person looking back at me. Ever been there? Are you sick of yourself right now? Is your mind dominated by thoughts like mine is such as, “Why the hell have I allowed myself to get here?” and “How have I turned into this person? I know better.” 

So far 2018 has not proven to be the year of Chad recapturing his heart. My finances are in shambles, propagated by a series of poor decisions last year. Now my car has broken down and I’m forced to borrow money to try to dig myself out of the hole. I think I’ve got things worked out but only time will tell.

One area of my life that I really struggle in is financially. One of my coping mechanisms is to buy shit I don’t need (or really even want) when I feel depressed, stressed or bored. I have also diagnosed myself with financial phobia (it’s real, look it up or click the blue link) and there’s a lot of shame tied to my lack of discipline with my money and keeping track of it. What really pisses me off is that I make a decent wage. I should be putting money away in savings and investing more in my 401k than I do but my financial irresponsibility is preventing me from doing that. What pisses me off even more is that I know better. I know how to keep track of my expenses. I know how to budget and I’ve done it successfully many times. My life is exponentially more balanced when I’m keeping track of my finances and not constantly spinning. So why do I fall so often?

I’m also sick of living my life in fear of so many things. It makes me feel weak and pathetic.

And, while I’m ranting, why can’t the beautiful words of affirmation that I receive from so many people that I’m close to stick? Why do I constantly feel so worthless and like such a terrible person? My life is full of people who see so many ‘amazing’ things in me that I struggle to see in myself.

My stomach hurts in this moment. This post is proving to be really painful to write. I want to scream. This may seem to be dramatic to you but it’s the truth. I don’t like myself very much right now.

So if this post is about forgiving yourself, then I suppose I should probably shift focus here. I’m going to pull from words of affirmation that Dan gave me the other day to help me out. (For those of you who don’t know already, Dan is my mentor, an older brother figure, one of my closest friends and will probably be mentioned in several blog posts.) He told me that this is just a small bump, that I will get over it and even though it seems really loud right now, that it will pass soon enough. He told me that he loves me and is incredibly proud of me. Another friend constantly tells me that I’m ‘amazing’. Yet another told me three times rather drunkenly that he fucking loves me after giving him some necessary advice after a team happy hour.

I have a lot to be proud of. I’ve made some amazing changes in my life in the last five years. I’ve achieved levels of comfort with emotional processing and vulnerability I NEVER thought I would be capable of achieving in my lifetime. I have a rare ability to find beauty in things and places and people that others aren’t capable of seeing. I think that sometimes I probably expect too much from myself instead of just accepting myself for where I am in my journey. I need to extend the same grace to myself that I extend to other people I counsel.

Sometimes it’s really hard to silence the voices of the demons that scream at me, voices that tell me that I will always be a fuck-up, that I will always be a pussy and won’t amount to anything (things that were actually said to me as a child). At those times when I see the world through the eyes of that wounded child, I need to step outside of myself and bring my Father Self to the forefront to comfort that wounded child and remind him that he’s acceptable just as he is and that he’s worthy and lovable. My Father Self doesn’t see that wounded child as a fuck-up or a pussy. Instead he sees the unlimited potential inside of that child’s heart. My Father Self sees the love and empathy that child brings to the world and he cries with the child whose tears fall from a lack of acceptance and love and nurturing from his caretakers.

Starting now, I’m going to work to bring the same love and grace to myself that my Father Self would give to that child. Life’s too short not to love myself and it’s too short for you to not love yourself either. Let’s bring forgiveness and grace to ourselves and work towards becoming better versions of who we already are.

Thanks for taking the time to read. Until next time.






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