Feeling Guilty
Feeling guilty.
One area of grief made poignant today was the space of feeling guilty. I’m allowing it to hit on all sides, noticing that it has been very familiar to me for most of my life. Maybe in choosing it, I can let its power go.
First, I feel guilty because my situation is not that great compared to what others are going through. Death of a cherished grandmother or the sudden loss of a niece is far more devastating. So what right do I have to mourn the loss of a relationship I found exciting and wonderful?
Then there’s the guilt surrounding making up the story that created the demise of a relationship that was actually quite amazing. Add to that the guilt of spending too much time away and not noticing the effect. And now the guilt of sharing too openly what’s real in my heart.
Plus there’s the guilt of backing away from something I promised to do, coupled with the guilt surrounding not completing what I need to do for my livelihood. I feel guilty for hurting anyone, especially the one I love. I feel guilty for being a disappointment.
And then I feel guilty for all the praise and encouragement everyone gives.
Guilt is its own prison that I created long before my relationship began four years ago. Its chains have held me down in all aspects of my life, making it difficult for me to choose what I want for my life, especially when it comes to love. I clearly see that I allowed it to affect how I responded to love, how I challenged myself toward leadership training, how I trapped myself into greater debt, and how I’ve second-guessed every single decision I’ve made since I had the guts to stand up for myself when I thought a line had been drawn in the sand. It’s been keeping me miserable long enough.
Three good friends challenged me today to choose to do whatever it takes to take care of ME for once. “Take the time,” they said “to find out what you want for yourself. If you find that, things will fall into place.”
My first step is to relinquish guilt. Perhaps my best example is Kipling, my cat, who just walked into the house with a baby black snake. He had no concern about batting it around the kitchen. Nor did he seem to care when I picked it up and tossed it back outside. If I saw guilt like Kipling saw that snake, I wonder what freedom I’d have in my life on a day to day basis.
One area of grief made poignant today was the space of feeling guilty. I’m allowing it to hit on all sides, noticing that it has been very familiar to me for most of my life. Maybe in choosing it, I can let its power go.
First, I feel guilty because my situation is not that great compared to what others are going through. Death of a cherished grandmother or the sudden loss of a niece is far more devastating. So what right do I have to mourn the loss of a relationship I found exciting and wonderful?
Then there’s the guilt surrounding making up the story that created the demise of a relationship that was actually quite amazing. Add to that the guilt of spending too much time away and not noticing the effect. And now the guilt of sharing too openly what’s real in my heart.
Plus there’s the guilt of backing away from something I promised to do, coupled with the guilt surrounding not completing what I need to do for my livelihood. I feel guilty for hurting anyone, especially the one I love. I feel guilty for being a disappointment.
And then I feel guilty for all the praise and encouragement everyone gives.
Guilt is its own prison that I created long before my relationship began four years ago. Its chains have held me down in all aspects of my life, making it difficult for me to choose what I want for my life, especially when it comes to love. I clearly see that I allowed it to affect how I responded to love, how I challenged myself toward leadership training, how I trapped myself into greater debt, and how I’ve second-guessed every single decision I’ve made since I had the guts to stand up for myself when I thought a line had been drawn in the sand. It’s been keeping me miserable long enough.
Three good friends challenged me today to choose to do whatever it takes to take care of ME for once. “Take the time,” they said “to find out what you want for yourself. If you find that, things will fall into place.”
My first step is to relinquish guilt. Perhaps my best example is Kipling, my cat, who just walked into the house with a baby black snake. He had no concern about batting it around the kitchen. Nor did he seem to care when I picked it up and tossed it back outside. If I saw guilt like Kipling saw that snake, I wonder what freedom I’d have in my life on a day to day basis.
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