The Guilt Trip

We all have our demons. Memories, habits, characteristics, faults, struggles that we've lived with for so long that they pretty much define our entire being. Whether they were developed from our childhood, introduced by relationships with toxic people, or just formed from our current chapter in life, we all have them and they can either fuel the fire of our souls or suffocate us until we drown in our own shortcomings.

I have many, to be completely honest. Some I've been able to keep securely incarcerated so that they are but echoes in the distance, and others are known to consistently break free and wreak havoc on my emotions, thoughts and even body. They are dark, traumatizing beasts with no master. No shackles or chains. No disguises or any sort of limitations.

But my biggest and scariest?

I am constantly in a state of guilt. Yes, a state of guilt.
Guilty for letting Roran cry long enough at 5 in the morning that Josh was forced to get up to make a bottle even though he has to work in the morning.
Guilty for not getting to bed at a better time.
Guilty for not getting up earlier.
Guilty for giving Jax a handful of cereal instead of making him a real breakfast right away.
Guilty for sitting down for too long when I could be cleaning or organizing.
Guilty for spending too much time on my makeup when I don't plan to go anywhere.
Guilty for yelling at Jax for playing with the dog and making noise.
Guilty for giving in to Jaxon's whining and demanding.
Guilty for forgetting to eat.
Guilty for not working out more.
Guilty for not making enough at work.
Guilty for not working enough.
Guilty for not being a better homemaker.
Guilty for not being able to fulfill basic adult tasks, like using the phone at all, because of anxiety.
Guilty for having 2 kids before even getting engaged.
Guilty for even considering an abortion almost 3 years ago.
Guilty for dropping out of college.
Guilty for not going back like all the other moms.
Guilty for still being a server.
Guilty for wasting oxygen.

You get the idea. The kicker, though, is that not one of those is exaggerated.
And I am plagued by them every minute of every day.
I'm not sharing this to get you to actually comment on my post for once, to compliment me. I'm not offering this information in exchange for sympathy or attention of any kind. I am ashamed of my dark side. We all are, I know.

I'm putting this out there to understand. So I can see it written out. So you can read it and maybe either understand my spirit a bit more, or understand it for yourself.

Where does this void stem from?
I don't think this is a demon you can credit to just one person or event. This is something that is learned; either from repetition or by example. In my case it could be both. My mother had a gift for unintentionally burdening me with guilt since I was pretty much old enough to communicate, but I've since seen for myself that I believe that it stems from her own struggle with guilt. I also believe I have always been sensitive to all emotions and therefore susceptible to long term guilt. I feed off intense energy; positive and negative, dark and light. It's why I am considered an "introverted extrovert." Because, depending on the type of energy, I either thrive or overload. It also should be noted that my mother has always been an intense person, whereas my spirit tends to try mirror my father's which is deep and more internally focused. So you can see how my spirit has become such a empathetic mess. I've been fighting with my contrasting influences, along with my biology, since the beginning.

We all have to. We all are a product of the complicated combination of every single detailed aspect of our existence. I'm not claiming to be unique in any sense. I'm one of billions. Just like you. Just like them.

The reason I'm shedding light on this dark corner of my world is because I'm tired.
I have good moments. Really good moments. I do. My life isn't a total miserable ball of depression, anxiety and darkness. I have a pretty impeccable sense of humor, I always look for the good in everyone I meet, I am the first to encourage someone struggling, I am capable of embracing change, I can adapt and I've learned how to let petty and unnecessary negativity roll off my back fairly easily.
But all those qualities have developed over time, from overcoming mountain after mountain of struggles, setbacks, challenges, devastations and breakdowns. And, as you have discovered through my blog posts and social media activity, I am far from impenetrable. I will be battling my vicious demons until I take in my final breath on this Earth, just like you.
But I am not a mighty warrior, spiritually or otherwise, and I am worn thin.

This winter season has been possibly one of the hardest and longest I have ever endured in my 25 years. So many things have gone wrong. I have come up short more in the past 3 or so months than I have in probably my entire life so far.
I'm not going through a depression. I would never patronize the precious souls who survive such a true darkness. I have just lost more battles than I won. I lost sight of the light guiding me through the darkness a few times. I can see it again now, but I'm not getting comfy.

I want you to know that I'm still here.
I have given up on a few things, and I've had to back away from others. I have been a non existent friend to everyone I know except for the 3 boys that live with me. I have distanced myself from my blood family for reasons I will probably never share. I have lost my way and have broken myself down to bare bones more times than I'd like to admit. I have failed miserably while thinking I'm exceeding expectations.
But I'm still here. I still see you. I still feel you.
Even if you haven't seen, felt or heard from me in a long long time.

Spring is coming.
The time to celebrate new life, fresh air and warm sunlight.
It's time to be resurrected. It's time to awaken.
It's time for me to come alive.