There are those that say that guilt is a useless emotion, and maybe they’re right. But I feel it so often that I can scarcely imagine a life without it.
How would I fill the endless minutes in each day if not consumed by the feeling that I’m not doing the right thing/a good enough job, that I myself am not good enough, that I could/should be doing x, y or z instead?!
Take right now for example- I’m sitting here feeling tremendously guilty about an inordinate number of things.
First up- there’s the pie. I’m eating the last mince pie in the house and feeling guilty (because I am trying to be healthy and lose weight and eating a mince pie is in direct contradiction with both of those things).
Also, there’s the sitting. I’m sitting here eating a pie when I could/should be doing a whole host of other more useful and productive things (tidying, cleaning, writing, calling up the ward manager at my new job and introducing myself and getting some off-duty etc etc etc).
Then there’s the fact that I’m alone, having just dropped both kids off at school. Which carries it’s own guilt at the best of times, but particularly when I’ve just had to prise our 6 year old off my leg in tears and leave him with his teacher sobbing. He was off sick yesterday but is better today but didn’t want to go in, and being the horrible mother I am, I made him. Because we had to go there anyway to drop his brother off (more guilt there- his brother started full-time school a whole year earlier than he did, and although his attendance technically isn’t compulsory, because he’s still only four, I tell him that it is) and because he isn’t poorly anymore, and I don’t want him to have poor attendance/miss out on stuff, and because I don’t want him to think he can stay home whenever he doesn’t fancy school because he really can’t because I start work next week (heaps more guilt at this point, because I am not going to be able to do school drop-offs/pick-ups and will miss some bedtimes and generally won’t be around as much).
I’m also feeling very guilty about starting my new job because I am riddled with doubt that it is the right thing to do/the right time to do it, and then I feel bad for having taken the leap despite my doubts, and I also feel bad because I have been given a job, something a lot of people would kill for, and here I am debating about whether or not I really want it. And then I feel guilty for feeling this way, because when all is said and done, it’s not a matter of wanting the job or not- I need to earn money.
And then I get back to the fact that I’m sat on my arse not contributing financially, emotionally, or practically to anybody or anything, and by that point I’ve eaten the pie and we’re back to my food-related guilt once again…
Congratulations, you just survived ten minutes in my brain! Exhausting isn’t it?!