Yeah, I’ve made mistakes.

Yeah, I’ve done a million things I regret.

Yeah, I’ve spent a long, long time hating myself.

Yeah, that might never truly change.

Yeah, I might not ever think I’m good enough.

No, that doesn’t justify what I’m doing.

Plain and simple:

What I’ve been doing to cope with that guilt

Is letting people down more than the mistakes I punish myself for.

I’m worrying the people I love.

And it’s not fair to any of us

To add that guilt to the reasons I deserve this.

That guilt should motivate me.

It should push me to say, “Yeah, something needs to change.”

So here’s me, saying

**_Yeah.

Something needs to change.

_**

This is not okay.

And it never will be.

Scarlet on my skin isn’t paint.

It’s not art.

I’m not making something beautiful out of my pain.

It’s just selfish.

Really. Fucking. Selfish.

I can admit that.

No, that doesn’t mean I’m going to change instantly.

But I ate breakfast today.

I’ll make myself eat lunch.

When it gets bad, I’m going to do every single other thing I can.

Maybe I’ll still end up in the same spot.

Maybe this won’t change anything.

Or maybe it’ll change _everything_.

And that possibility,

That hope?

That itself is everything.