Tag: guilt

JC’s Confessions #30

In the first few seasons of The Late Show, Stephen Colbert did a recurring skit, then a best-selling book, called Midnight Confessions, in which he “confesses” to his audience with the disclaimer that he isn’t sure these things are really sins but that he does “feel bad about them.” While Stephen and his writers are famously funny, I am not, so my JC’s Confessions will be somewhat more serious reflections, but they will be things that I feel bad about. Stephen’s audience always forgives him at the end of the segment; I’m not expecting that – and these aren’t really sins – but comments are always welcome.

I try to take mental notes as I go through life in order to give myself guideposts for the future, to give myself advice as needed.

I have watched, sadly, some instances when, as people struggled with medical conditions, they stopped doing things because they were embarrassed to be seen needing assistance or having to do things differently.

As I’ve been dealing with my still undiagnosed health problems since March, I’ve tried to keep some of my commitments going, even though that has meant making major accomodations. For example, I’ve sung the last two Madrigal Choir concerts seated because my balance problems have made standing without support to sing impossible. I also only made it through our afternoon rehearsals by lying down before rehearsal and during our break because it’s difficult to hold my head up unsupported as the day goes on.

I’ve put other commitments on hold totally, even though I get “can’t you just?” comments. The truth is that whatever I do comes at a cost. If I push too hard, I pay for it with a surge of symptoms and fatigue that can go on for days. I choose to do that for a limited number of things but I can’t do it for everything or I literally would not be able to get out of the house – or even out of bed.

We may be close to getting, at least, a partial diagnosis and some treatment, if I’m lucky. I’m alternating between hope and despondency. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this unsatisfying balancing act going.

Do I have the humility to keep asking for the accomodations I need to keep a few of my activities going or do I give up and wait to see if I can get back to doing all the things I want in the way I’m accustomed?

It’s difficult, because I’ve seen too many people lose some joy and time with friends waiting to get better when they never did. With my limited energy and brainpower, I’m fighting to keep some things going, when the alternative would seem to be losing them totally and, perhaps, irrevocably.

So, what am I confessing?

I know my health condition is not a sin. Or what I’m doing to try to cope. Or not being able to power through these situations.

But I do feel guilty for letting people down and not being able to do what I want and not having my accustomed creative and critical thinking skills.

Maybe not for much longer.

Maybe permanently.

SoCS: JC’s Confessions #21

[Non-stream of consciousness introduction. Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is to write about the first thing that come to mind from the phrase “let go.” I drew a blank at first but then this topic floated to the surface, probably because it was on my list of things to write about in my series, JC’s Confessions, so what follows is the very dangerous intersection of writing stream of consciousness on a difficult topic. I do use a standard opening to explain JC’s Confessions, which will follow as a block quote before launching into the SoC portion of the post.]

In the first few seasons of The Late Show, Stephen Colbert did a recurring skit, now a best-selling book, called Midnight Confessions, in which he “confesses” to his audience with the disclaimer that he isn’t sure these things are really sins but that he does “feel bad about them.” While Stephen and his writers are famously funny, I am not, so my JC’s Confessions will be somewhat more serious reflections, but they will be things that I feel bad about. Stephen’s audience always forgives him at the end of the segment; I’m not expecting that – and these aren’t really sins – but comments are always welcome.

JC

I have trouble letting go of guilt.

Even when I’m feeling guilty about something that is not my fault.

Even when it’s something I couldn’t possibly have known. Or remedied.

I’ve had family members diagnosed with conditions which took years to figure out, yet I’m the one who feels guilty/responsible for not having figured it out sooner, even though I am not a trained health professional, just a family member and caregiver.

It would have taken asking totally implausible questions to figure some of these diagnoses out. For example, it turned out years later that one of my daughters’ migraines had started as a child with visual migraines, which manifested as things changing colors. Who would think to point out to their child that, in almost all instances, color is a fixed attribute of an object? Yet, I feel guilty for not having realized this problem before the more serious later intractable migraine that took six months to diagnose, two more to break, cost her a semester of high school, and would later prove to be only a small part of a larger diagnosis of fibromyalgia, now known as ME, and chronic fatigue syndrome.

Never mind that it took the doctors ten years to figure it out from the time symptoms first appeared. As a mother, I thought I should have known and been able to alleviate her suffering and help her.

I know that this guilt is totally irrational. I know that my family doesn’t hold me responsible for not being a super-doctor or God or some all-knowing being and getting them help sooner, but still, as hard as I try, there is a vestige of guilt that I can’t shake.

(I can hear those of you who were raised Catholic thinking that this is par for the course of Catholic guilt, although I think it is probably not only that.)

One of my more recent struggles with this problem is the fact that it took months of suffering before my father, known here as Paco, was diagnosed with heart failure, only days before his death. I tried and tried to get the health professionals at his facility to figure things out and treat him appropriately but I failed, robbing him of the peace, comfort, and dignity he deserved in his final months.

It hurts.

I know that I shouldn’t feel guilt on top of the pain, that I’m not at fault, but I still can’t shake the underlying sense of responsibility, failure, and guilt.

Maybe, eventually, I’ll be able to let it go.
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Join us for Linda’s Just Jot It January and/or Stream of Consciousness Saturday! (I promise it does not have to be as fraught as this post unfortunately is.) Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2022/01/28/the-friday-reminder-for-socs-jusjojan-2022-daily-prompt-jan-29th/