I feel guilty because . . .

Debbie, my therapist, mentioned during a counseling session last September that almost everything I talk about is steeped in guilt. I thought about it and she is right. I feel guilty to even exist. There are so many times in a day that I re-think whatever it is that I have just done. I dwell on minutia to a ridiculous extent and feel guilt for whatever it is that I think that I did, and then feel this anxious need somehow correct it. This often happens during conversations with other people. A small example of something that happened this week, while I was at work:

Boss: Melisa, you should have sent both of these jobs with the runner so we could have saved a fee.

Me: Well, one was due at the court yesterday so I sent that one right then. This one isn’t due til tomorrow and we didn’t have it ready yet, so that’s why it’s being sent separately. Usually you’re telling me that I shouldn’t work around the runner’s schedule! Now you’re mad because I didn’t send them both at once!

Boss: It’s not a big deal, we could’ve just saved some money. We should be thinking ahead and planning a little better.

I walked away from that little exchange and mulled it over and over in my head. I felt righteous anger because I have spent the last 3 years hearing the phrase “I won’t run my law practice based on what a runner can and can’t do!” coming out of my boss’s mouth — he’s never mentioned a fee before! We’re always doing things last minute! But the anger quickly turned to shame and guilt as I thought of the strident tone in my voice and how he has been telling me lately that I’ve been too defensive. Oh boy, I started thinking, now I’ve really messed it up! Now my boss thinks I am just wasting his money and I don’t have the firm’s best interests at heart! Now I’ve gone and done it again, opened my big fat mouth, been unpleasant and rude and hateful and embarrassed myself. I was defensive and I’m no fun to be around and I waste the firm’s money! I could not stop the voices in my head until I had found my boss and apologized, telling him that I would be sure to do a better job next time and that it certainly wasn’t my intention to be wasteful with his money.

Back in September, when Debbie mentioned my “guilt complex” she asked me to make a list of what I feel guilty about. Here’s what I started with. I stopped where I did but I could have gone on forever. The list is fresh and new every day, but I suppose these are old friends that never go away.

1. I’m alive

2. I married a man that sexually abused my daughter.

3. I married a man that wasn’t faithful and then divorced him, so my daughter didn’t grow up with her nuclear family.

4. I divorced my son’s dad so he isn’t growing up with his nuclear family.

5. I don’t keep my house clean enough.

6. I don’t keep track of my money well enough.

7. I keep gaining weight.

8. I got Crohn’s disease because I’m such a nervous dysfunctional person.

9. I don’t spend enough time doing things with my son and daughter.

10. I let my son play video games too much.

11. He doesn’t have enough chores.

12. I complain about the dog.

13. I create tension in the house.

14. I expect too much from DH.

15. I make DH feel criticized.

16. I let the coke run out in the fridge.

17. I have food in my freezer that we haven’t eaten yet, and I keep buying new food.

18. I don’t tend to the landscaping as well as I should.

19. I am not patient with the dog.

20. My daughter had some very difficult teenage years because of me.

21. I check my email when I’m supposed to be working.

22. I don’t do things to better the lives of people outside my small family

23. I don’t keep up with my friends enough.

24. I missed grandma’s birthday.

25. I keep focusing on things that happened 30 years ago instead of living life today.

26. I blame my mom for what my dad did.

27. I don’t want to see my mom.

28. I expect too much from my brother.

29. My behavior at home is erratic and unpredictable.

30. It’s hard to stay focused at work.

31. I spend too much money on lunch and should bring something from home more often.

32. I spend money on my hair and nails and therapy when DH isn’t spending money on extras.

33. I don’t always prepare healthy balanced meals.

34. I’m selfish and childish.

35. I want my chair all to myself.

36. I need too much.

37. I’ve ruined every family I’ve been a part of.

38. I’m not involved enough in my daughter’s schoolwork.

39. I don’t take my son on field trips or attend school functions during the day.

40. I procrastinate.

41. I haven’t done what I’m supposed to do to move my therapy along.

42. I have a cozy house with running water, electricity, plumbing, and all the amenities I could wish for, while there are so many people in the world who are uncomfortable.

43. I have an overabundance of food and I throw food away instead of eating it.

44. I don’t recycle.

45. I generate at least one garbage bag full of garbage every day.

46. I’m too distracted when interacting with the kids.

47. I want to be alone too much.

48. I selfishly remarried even though I promised myself I would never bring a man into my home until my kids were grown and gone.

Add a comment July 9, 2008

My brother is my hero

I have one sibling — my brother who is 21 months younger than I am. For years we have had a warm but distant relationship. He is aware of my “allegations” of abuse, but has not acknowledged what happened during our childhood since we became adults. He called me one day in January of this year and he talked to me. He told me that he loved me, that he supported me. That he believed me. He wanted to hear about my experience growing up with mom and dad as my parents. He apologized for never seeing what was happening. He apologized for ignoring it for so long.

More than that, he kept listening and he kept talking. He called me regularly for a few months after that, and was open to my questions and to my outpouring of emotions.

A letter to my brother:

Dear brother, you have given me the most beautiful gift. Acceptance, which is something I never, ever expected to find. I am so grateful for the time that you have given me and the love and support and willingness to listen with an open mind. Thank you for letting me tell you how angry I am at Mom, and for having my back. For letting me know that you love her, but don’t defend her actions.

I have always, always, always felt the odd man out in our family. Like the three of you were having a grand old time and there was me, the oddball weirdo crazy one in the corner making a mess. Now I am certain that’s true — that I was truly the odd man out — but what isn’t true is that I’m alone. That’s a story I’m officially throwing on the bonfire of banned books tonight.

And I’ll give a big old shout-out to Landmark Forum for bringing you to where you are today . . . I’ll admit to making a bit of fun of it over the years, of believing that it was a bunch of talk but maybe not much substance. Somehow, some way, right now, you and I are at a place where we can hear each other and that is a beautiful thing. You, my dear brother, have known me more than anyone else in this world right now except my mom. I’ve known forever that I’m not ever gonna get that mom-I-wish-for in my Christmas stocking, but my brother’s back again and I’m so excited. I’ve missed you. I’m so happy that you still like me. What a gift that you’ve given me!

Add a comment January 25, 2008

Accountability

I struggle with this a lot mom, the idea of accountability. I want to be able to look myself in the eye and know that I’m not blaming my mistakes on you. Not hiding behind your skirts or letting my childhood be an excuse for my failures. That I’m not living in the past, that I am accountable for my own life and the paths that I have chosen.

Today I can confidently say that I do not live in the past. I am not standing here “making you wrong.” I really resent that Landmark Forum phrase and that you would ever use it in a sentence to me. I have made a life for myself that includes two beautiful children, and decisions that I am proud of. I have lived by my values. I have stood fast for what I believe in. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I live for today. And right now, today, there are many pieces of me that were formed as a child. The decisions that I have made are informed by what Missy learned as a little girl. That’s just a plain fact. I don’t live there but I do acknowledge that it’s true.

Driving home this evening, I was imagining what it might be like having a relationship with you and my brother after I’ve said my piece to you both. Will there be one big conversation that will get it all off my chest, then we’ll be back to life as it used to be, never mentioned again? Will I think of it every time I see your faces or hear your voices or get an email? I started to feel worried and afraid that maybe one conversation wouldn’t be enough, apologetic that maybe I couldn’t heal just with the once, and then I stopped myself. If you were my spouse and you cheated on me, if you wanted the marriage to be healed, you would listen to me as long as you needed to until the trust was re-built and that hurt was healed. So that’s what I expect from both of you. For you both to hear me as long as I need you to hear me. Until I’m done. And if you’re not up for that, it’s ok. Just understand that there won’t be a relationship between us any longer until I’m done. Missy will not undergo one more second of feeling invisible and unloved. If she needs to speak up, then she speaks up. I’ll make sure of it. Deal with it or leave.

Add a comment November 30, 2007