The Guilt

It’s been hard to come up with words lately, so instead I came out with a picture that may or may not make sense to you.

Basically, the more purple, the worse the guilt.  When I’m in the bottom of it all, a lot of other horrible feelings make guilt take a backseat; when my depression is at my worst, there’s no telling myself that I’m actually okay and just making it up.  Besides, at this level, there’s a lot of numbness involved, so if I lie immobile for a few days I don’t care.

But as things start looking up, I slowly approach the dangerous Zone of Extreme Guilt:

“I’m not as bad as last week, so why am I on my pjs?”

“I’m a little better so I should be cleaning and showering and dressing and studying and taking care of the dogs and going out…”

“I’m a little better so I should be trying to get my life back NOW”

“I don’t feel that horrible right now so I should stop being a burden to my family. I shouldn’t even live in this house.”

But thing is, by then I’m still in a very bad situation, just not as bad as “the bottom”.  But it doesn’t mean I can do any of those things yet.  But will I listen? Nope.

So, all the things in my head get together to overwhelm me, leave me in a vulnerable position for the depression to take over me again.  And down we go…

If I could just get past the zone of extreme guilt, I would feel stronger to actually do those things, which in turn would ease my guilt because I’d be doing stuff, and then I’d be on my way.

But that hasn’t happened yet.

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