I’ve been thinking a lot about all this guilt that I’ve recently noticed. Why do I feel guilty about….everything? Where did this come from?

It’s a brand new concept so forgive me if I sound as if I’m babbling (I’ll feel guilty about that too, no doubt) but I’m going to give it a shot here anyway. It usually helps.

I was thinking that my anxiety level increases whenever I feel guilty and that I feel guilty about many things. When these things are held up to the cold light of reality there is no logical reason for my feelings of guilt. I’m going to use my year of unemployment as the example. I felt guilty the entire time I was off of work. I felt guilty for not bringing home enough money. I felt guilty for not being a productive member of society. I felt guilty whenever I did anything remotely enjoyable while hubby was at work. But here are the facts:

• I maintained full-time employment from the ages of 19-37
• My resume indicates a steady increase in responsibilities and promotions
• I was successful in my industry by anyone’s standards
• The job market was horrible, particularly for mortgage professionals and the state I live in had one of highest unemployment rates in the country
• During my year of unemployment I spent the vast majority of every day looking for work

When I look at these facts I realize that I had absolutely nothing at all to feel guilty about. Nothing. I had no history of extended periods of unemployment. I had no history of a poor work ethic. I had no control over the mortgage crisis or the company I worked for closing. I did everything within my power to find a job.

Still with me? If my “facts” sound flawed to you please let me know in the comments. If not…

So why did I feel guilty? Where did that guilt come from? It wasn’t hubby. He was extremely supportive. It was coming from me. But why? Why did I ignore the facts and my husband’s unwavering confidence that I was doing all that I could and would eventually find something?

The answers I have come up with so far from speaking with a couple of people are perfectionism and manipulation. Growing up I was expected to be perfect. Anything short of perfect was absolute failure. There was no middle ground. There was never pride in having tried my hardest. Results mattered. Perfect results.

There are many examples but the first one that comes to mind is when I received my very first report card in 1st grade. My mother demanded to know why I got a “B” in one class. I was shocked and pointed out that all the others were “A’s” and isn’t a “B” really good anyway? She did acknowledge that the “A’s” were good but that she expected me to pull that “B” up to an “A” by the next report card. I was crushed. I felt horrible. I felt as I had done something wrong but I didn’t understand what I had done. I felt as if I had tried my hardest and that was not recognized. I felt terrified that I might get a “B” on my next report card. I felt completely helpless and  powerless.

The reason that perfection was expected had nothing at all to do with me personally. My parents required perfection because I was a reflection of them. If I was less than perfect then they were too. With narcissists the idea that they could be less than perfect is not acceptable. Therefore, their mirror (me) must reflect their perfect image at all times.

In order to get me to comply they used manipulation and abuse. The admonishment about the “B” was a form of manipulation. The unknown consequences of failing to bring it up to an “A” were terrifying. It worked well.

I bring all this up to finally make the point that I’ve started to explore. It was not the guilt that caused my anxiety. It was the other way around. The anxiety I felt was the fear, the sheer terror, of feeling powerless. I could try my hardest and still get a “B”. I had no control over what would happen if I wasn’t perfect. Usually I was punished. Severely. The anticipation of the rage and abuse that would be unleashed on me whenever I failed to project the perfect image was too much for me to bear. So, I turned it into guilt. Shame really. It was much less stressful for me to feel bad about myself for being a disappointment than it was to think about how helpless I was against the inevitable consequences of my failure to meet unreasonable expectations.

As always when considering my childhood, the point is not to blame my current guilt and anxiety on my parents. The purpose is to figure out why I think the way I do so that I can change it. That six year old learned to avoid the fear of being powerless by turning it into guilt. It was a coping mechanism that worked. Guilt didn’t feel great but it felt a hell of a lot better than panic.

Back to my unemployment. Using this outdated coping mechanism I decided to feel guilty as opposed to feeling powerless. The truth was that I was in fact powerless to a large extent. After years of conditioning I equated powerlessness with extreme pain and abuse. Guilt was is my way of feeling as if I have some control or power in situations where I do not. Guilt allows me to alleviate the anxiety I feel when I feel helpless or weak. I don’t do helpless and weak. I do guilt.

I don’t know if this makes any sense at all to anyone but me. I don’t know that I’ve communicated it well. As I said it’s a new concept that I’m exploring but so far it rings true. The good news is that if I am onto something I may be able to eliminate much of the anxiety that I bring on myself. Time will tell.

Thanks for stopping by!

I’m not talking about actual panic attacks. I’ve come close to having one of those a couple of times and it’s a horrible feeling. But it’s been quite some time since I’ve felt that level of anxiety. I guess you could say that’s progress, right? RIGHT?!

My overall level of anxiety has been high ever since before Thanksgiving when Gina’s health started to deteriorate. In late December I took a risk by changing jobs. I realize that under usual circumstances changing jobs is not a huge risk but in this economy and in the mortgage industry…it was a risk. Then, just a few weeks later I started my dreaded statistics class.

There are certainly worse things that could have happened (besides Gina’s death of course). I think the combo of adjusting to my friend’s death, a very different type of job and a class that I not only hate, but is extremely difficult for me to grasp, was a bit much for me.

I still haven’t adjusted to Gina’s death. Yesterday her sister mentioned on Facebook that she could really use some advice from her sister. I could only respond, “me too”. I am reminded of her absence several times daily. I miss everything about her and our friendship. I still haven’t even stopped thinking from time to time that I have to call her and tell her about something that I know she would laugh about. I try to keep it in perspective. I mean if I feel this way I can’t imagine how her family, particularly her daughters feel. Then I feel guilty for missing her.

The job has been an adjustment just because the way things are set up is like nowhere else I have ever worked. I work from home now. The problem is not working from home. That I love. There was just a scary period there where I wasn’t sure it was going to work out and I wasn’t making as much money as I anticipated. Then I felt guilty for not making enough money. Luckily, the work situation is now going even better than expected. I kept telling myself that it was just growing pains but that did nothing to help my level of anxiety.

Stats. Sucks. I hate it. I don’t fully understand it. At this point I’ll be happy if I’m passing. We had our first test yesterday. I was even more anxious than usual over that test all day. Then I felt guilty for not being good enough at stats.

Are you seeing the pattern here? When I feel guilt I become anxious. And I feel guilty about almost everything. I know I’m not perfect and that no one expects me to be (except maybe myself). I know that perfectionism, worrying and anxiety don’t help any situation. I know that I’ve even written similar blog posts on this subject. Actually, now I’m starting to feel guilty about being repetitive and boring you to death.

This guilt thing is nonsense. I have to knock it off. I have to let myself off the hook. It’s causing me unnecessary turmoil. It’s not working for me at all, it never has and it never will. Beer helps but then I feel guilty for drinking too much. It’s too bad I can’t have the guilt/anxiety parts of my brain removed. I’d feel no emotional turmoil but without any guilt I’d become a criminal and end up in prison and I’m told they don’t serve beer there.

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I got a full night’s sleep last night so I’m feeling much better today (yay!).  Yesterday morning was….well, ugly.  I was lost in a fog of self-pity for a few hours after the kids left for school.  It was fueled by getting only two and a half hours of sleep the night before, a book I read while not sleeping, and my overall general anxious and neurotic nature.  About as good a combination as cocaine, crystal meth and ether.

Ok, so it really wasn’t as bad as all that, but I do love Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas and did feel pretty….dark. 

I read The Year Of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion.  This memoir of the year following the death of her husband of 40 years was amazing. It’s basically written as a diary but also manages to describe the more general ways in which humans deal with grief and mourning, without turning into a self-help book.

During this year, in fact beginning 5 days before her husband died, her adult daughter was also seriously ill. She recovered before the end of the year covered in the book, much to my relief. I don’t know how the author made it through that year, although she does explain it in great personal detail.  I won’t say anymore about the book in case you haven’t read it yet.

In any case, she talks a lot about self-pity and how we hate feeling self-pity which just causes guilt that results in more self-pity.  It’s a vicious circle of fear and loathing.  No, no one died in my life, so I’m not comparing my little bout with self-pity to hers.  It’s just that reading her tragic account led me to feel guilty about the things I worry about and that led to my sleep-deprived-pity-party.

I’m glad I didn’t post about it at the time.  I snapped out of it pretty quickly after talking to a few friends, reading and setting up a job interview.  It actually turned out to be a good day with unseasonably nice weather too.  Today is another beautiful day here and I got sleep so I’m back to normal (as normal as I get anyway).  I always love a happy ending.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

I’ve finally finished our 2008 tax returns.  Whew.  I’ve spent the better part of the past two days preparing them.  It felt good to have a purpose, something important to take care of.  Yes, that’s exactly how pointless my days have come to feel.  I actually enjoyed doing our taxes.  Pathetic.  Now that I’m done, it’s back to just looking for a job, blogging and trying not to focus on my lack of income or meaningful contribution to society.  Oh, and screwing around on Facebook….can’t forget that important part of my daily routine.

Thankfully, we are getting a small refund.  Good news, right?  Of course it is!  Having said that, I am now faced with a decision.  It could be an important one.  Most likely I’m just struggling with it because I feel guilty, and as discussed in the previous paragraph, have too much time on my hands.

Last Mother’s Day, I started what I wanted to be an annual tradition.  I took a trip, all by myself.  If you haven’t read about it already and are interested in doing so, you can read about it HERE.  I would very much like to go on another trip this Mother’s Day weekend.  Let me rephrase that.  I am absolutely dying to go again this year. 

I don’t want this for Mother’s Day….

I want this for Mother’s Day…

Problem is, as I may have mentioned….I’m unemployed.  I feel guilty about even considering spending money on a vacation (vacation from what?!) this year.  Hubby is pushing me to go, which is sweet.  The small refund we are getting would allow me to go.  It could also be spent on necessities or saved for the future, just in case I am actually unemployed for the next ten years….which does seem realistic at this point.

I don’t actually need to go, no matter how much I want to go.  I know that if I can find a fairly inexpensive way to do it, I won’t regret it for a second.  I know that if I don’t at least look into it, I will regret it.  You only live once, right?

I essentially just talked myself into researching inexpensive trips I can take in order to continue my Mother’s Day tradition.  Maybe I can actually make this happen….I hope so.

Thanks for stopping by!

“When I quit working, I lost all sense of identity in about fifteen minutes.”  ~Paige Rense

I started this blog with the overall theme that we moms give up a lot of ourselves when we become moms.  I wanted to explore all the other roles that make us who we are. 

When I’m ranting about Best Buy, my role is dissatisfied customer.  When I’m writing about Anthony Bourdain, my role is stalker fan.  You get the idea.

Prior to August 2007, when the bottom fell out of the mortgage industry, one of my roles was crystal clear.  Breadwinner.  I brought home the bacon.  Yes, I made sacrifices but kept as much balance as I could.  That all became shaky in August 2007, and completely disappeared in June 2008 when my last job ended due to cut-backs.

I’ve been unemployed for 8 months.  I haven’t been off work this long since I was 15 years old.  The mortgage industry has always been cyclical and I’ve been laid off before, but always found something even better within a few weeks.  Now, there’s just nothing out there.

I sometimes feel lost, confused, depressed, scared, useless and ashamed.  Other times I feel grateful because I realize how this time has given me a much needed break, the ability to pursue my return to college, and a lot more time with my kids. 

I also feel guilty about the tremendous financial strain my lack of income (besides unemployment) has put on our family.

I have no idea what my role is anymore.  I don’t know what my role will be when I do find a job.  I’m in this weird limbo with no end in sight.  I’m sure I’ll find something but what it will be and how much it will pay I have no idea.

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“Say what you will about the sweet miracle of unquestioning faith, I consider a capacity for it terrifying and absolutely vile.”
- Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

You’ve just got to love Kurt Vonnegut.  Or maybe that’s just me.  I am starting to notice a pattern of admiring men who are dark and disturbed…Daddy Issues?

Anyway, I really had nothing to write about yesterday, which is highly unusual.  I normally have three or more ideas bouncing around in my head at any given time.  But yesterday…nothing.  I knew I wanted to write about getting my computer back but I wanted to wait a few days to make sure it didn’t blow up or something.

Obviously, I finally decided to just go ahead and write about it.  As I was searching for some silly, disingenuous quote about miracles to start the post about getting my computer back, I came across this one from Kurt Vonnegut.

I have wanted to write about spirituality and religion for quite some time.  The problem is that I am not affiliated with any organized religion and am on something of a spiritual quest.  I grew up without any religion, with the exception of a brief summer bible school camp when I was little. 

I married into a Catholic family, but hubby went to Catholic school his entire life and says he put in his time already.  The only time this family is ever in church is for baptisms, weddings and funerals.  That’s just as well, because that is the one religion I know the most about and I don’t identify with it on any level.

I do know that I like the idea of reincarnation, and have, I believe, even seen some evidence of it.  I also know what I don’t like about Christianity in general.  I do enjoy meditation, yoga and reiki, which are aspects of different Eastern religions, as is reincarnation. 

Really, that’s about as far as I’ve gotten in my spiritual quest.  I love Mr. Vonnegut’s quote for many reasons, but the main one being that I can say that I know that I am always going to be questioning.  Even if I do decide on actual organized religion or on some blended spiritual beliefs of my own, I will always be questioning. 

So, was me coming across his quote a “sign” of some sort that it was time for me to write this post about religion that I have been considering for so long?  Was it merely a coincidence?  I mean, I was searching for the word, “miracle” so it isn’t too far-fetched to assume that a quote or two about religion would pop up. 

The intellectual and future psychologist in me thinks it may have even been my subconscious telling me it was time for me to write this.  I had writer’s block due to the slight guilt I was feeling about not writing about my resolution with Best Buy after posting so many negative things about them.  Once I got that post started and found this quote, that lead me to this post and no more writer’s block.

I’ll never know for sure but I will always be questioning.

Thanks for stopping by!