I awoke last night in a dream where I had “blood on my hands." It was a goofy dream about a spaceship that had been grounded by some outside force and it was up to me to set it and everyone on board free. And what did I have to do?

I had to speak out loud all of the instances that I could remember where I hurt someone. I was not to give excuses or explain circumstances. I was just to name all the times I could remember hurting someone. It was a long list.

By this time I was awake-ish, but I was still doing the required task. I was remembering and saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Dozing again, the next task was to recall all the times someone hurt me and to forgive them. This was also a long list. I did as instructed. I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.

Half awake, half asleep.

The last task was to forgive myself.

Fully awake now.

I could forgive myself, but not all the way. I was 100% in on the sorry part. I was 100% in on the forgiving others part. But I only reached about 72.5% on forgiving myself. It wasn’t so much an issue of worth or undeserving. It was more that I truly felt sorry and I truly felt forgiveness, and what does it mean to forgive yourself anyway?

Kurt woke up and wanted to hear about what I was dreaming and thinking. I told him I was sorry for all the times I hurt him. I told him I could only forgive myself 72.5%. He curled into my legs and went back to sweet sleep.

We are all imperfect.

And we all hurt others, and are hurt by others.

In the mix of it, we must find a way to be ok with ourselves. Because we’re human. Because being human is messy. Because life is imperfect.

Then I fell back to sleep with no dreams.

I’m sorry.

I forgive you.

I’m forgiving myself.