November 6, 2003

On Guilt

	I'm living quite a fairytale.  I'm being completely honest here.  My 
parents are completely devoted to one another if not always overly joyous at 
their marriage.  My dad never took me into a closet as a child.  I fought 
constantly with my brothers growing up, but if they needed me or I needed them, 
'it wasn't no thing but a chicken wing'.  I've never had to go through the 
garbage for food and I always had a roof over my head and school supplies when I 
needed them.  Heck, my mom was my closest friend growing up.  When I needed a 
place to go, I could go home - which is good since I couldn't go anywhere else.  
And even with the tremendous fights and arguments I've had with my parents in 
recent years, if I ever need something, I can always go to them for help.

	My grades were enough to get me into the college of my choice with a 
partial scholarship and I student loaned it the rest of the way.  In fact, I've 
never wanted for money when I needed it, not to say that it's falling out of my 
pockets or anything like that.  Never had to deal with true heartbreak, never 
had to 'settle' for what I could get when it came to love.  I mean, come on!  I 
did an Internet search and found my first boyfriend/husband-to-be.  Until recent 
years, friendships were always lacking.  But it gave me plenty of time to figure 
myself out, something that gives me an advantage or disadvantage over the 
general populace - depending on the situation.

	I have a writing talent that's given me an outlet for rage and frustration 
that doesn't involve mind-altering substances or anything else along those 
lines.  I'm starting to think that it might actually be worth publishing - if I 
ever stop being so lazy and finish what I've started.  My career path is all 
picked out and settled (finally), a path that prayerfully will lead me back to 
the city I love and the man I love even more.  Yeah, I live a pretty charmed 
life.

	That's the amazing thing about guilt, you know?  It makes the good seem 
bad/evil/dirty.  Sometimes I listen to those around me complain and feel the 
most extraordinary sense of shame that I cannot sympathize.  I'm sorry, I've 
never been beaten to within an inch of my life.  I've never been emotionally 
abused by a lover.  I've never had a good-for-nothing uncle with a gambling 
problem that begs for shelter and then steals from those relatives that take him 
in.  I don't have a drinking problem and I'm not addicted to sex.  And the 
problems I have in my life seem so trivial when compared to any of these things.  
So what if self-esteem is sometimes a real issue for me.  At least I've never 
been gang raped.  And so what if my paycheck doesn't stretch enough to allow for 
x, y, or z.  At least I'm not some abusive boyfriend's punching bag.  So what if 
I have stubborn, ridiculously overzealous parents.  At least I've got a job.  
'At least' has to be one of my least favorite expressions in the English 
language.  Funny how it never makes me feel better to hear that someone else is 
doing worse.  Somehow complaining about the problems with my apartment never 
seems right when I remember that a lot of people have no place to go at night.  
I work at a job that allows me to take free classes, and anyone who's been 
through the educational system (or plans to) KNOWS what a blessing that is.  

	So, why do I feel so guilty?  Why do I feel like I never have a right to 
say anything to anyone?  Why do I always feel the need to scream 'it's not my 
fault' at the top of my lungs when co-workers half accuse me of having it easy.  
I'm so lucky.  Things always go my way.  I've never had to work for anything.  
I'm always so happy.  Always so damn happy.  Why don't I ever complain?  Why 
can't anyone reach me?  What makes me so Goddamn special?  Don't I ever have any 
problems??  Don't I ever feel lost or scared or angry?  Why me?  Hand-picked by 
God Himself to float on a sea of fuckin serenity, untouched by the concerns of 
this world, as I wait for eternal salvation.

	You've got to be kidding.

	The guilt comes from knowing that my life will never be as horrible as 
everyone else's.  And, ironically enough, the anger comes from being judged by 
others as undeserving of any measure of understanding because my life will never 
be as horrible as everyone else's.  You ever sat around and made up shit to say 
just because you wanted a little taste of that compassion?  That milk of human 
kindness that curdles because so few are deemed worthy to drink it?  It's enough 
to drive you mad - no, it's enough to drive you to do something drastic to make 
yourself worthy of a listening ear that won't try and compare your problems to 
theirs.  But that's the easy way out of the crushing guilt and shame.  And I've 
always been too...  whatever...  to take the easy way out.

	Despite what you may be thinking, this is not just a bitching manifesto.  
It seems pointless to me to identify problems and not trying to fix them.  
Life's never so simple that things will always work out, but the trying is what 
makes us human, right?  So, I'm going through another typical day of listening 
to those around me and I received a bit of insight on this matter.  It came in 
the form of some jerk who used to work in my lab.  I guess that's proof positive 
that even assholes have their moments.  The guy loves to talk and he loves to 
hear himself talk.  But yesterday he was having a real problem with his 
girlfriend and wanted my input, to which I informed him that I don't do well 
with these types of conversations.  When he pressed the issue, I got mad and 
told him exactly why I couldn't help him.  I figured that would shut him up, but 
of course it didn't.  He said a lot of stuff after that, most of which I kinda 
tuned out.  But one thing that struck me - what is all boiled down to, I think - 
was 'you can't feel guilty for having what everybody wants'.

	It was like something out of a movie, I swear.  So simple, but it made so 
much sense.  I couldn't even reply; I was literally that floored.  No, I don't 
have a dark, twisted past.  But I don't have to.  I don't need to have the 
actual experiences to understand hurt, pain, betrayal, misery.  Every encounter 
with each presents a microcosm from which I draw the strength to answer to each 
of them.  It's really about stepping outside of my own little world for a moment 
and seeing into someone else's own little world.  Oh and that means without the 
'at least', without the comparison.  How dare you, how dare anyone deny what 
I've felt in the past or the present!  The pain is real, no matter where it came 
from.  And there are no 'at leasts' to make it better anymore than there are 
'just becauses' to excuse it.

	He also spoke to my greatest fear without even realizing it.  I was always 
to scared that I'd appear to be flaunting my blessings in front of someone.  It 
sort of feels like I'm counting money in front of a homeless person when I talk 
about the good things in my life.  At the very least I'd call a behavior like 
that rude, and I can't stand rudeness, in myself or in others.  But the purest 
form of understanding negates boasting.  It has to, because you are stepping out 
of your sphere to allow compassion to take effect.  It's not like I dance down 
the street everyday, singing 'la-dee-da!  My life is so great, sucks to be you' 
or anything crazy like that.  Sympathy flows between people that have had the 
same experience.  But the next best thing to it, and just as powerful, is 
empathy - the ability to understand it WITHOUT having gone through it.  Empathy 
is a hard trait to master because it requires a vulnerability that most find 
impossible because of the hurts of the past, but when its achieved, it is a 
force to be reckoned with.

	I think appreciation is the key to gaining empathy.  Another thing my 
coworker told me yesterday is that he never minds hearing about the good things 
in others' lives, even though he's been through hell, as long as that good is 
never taken for granted.  That seems fair.  After all, it's when I forget just 
how fortunate I am that I run the risk of become flippant and insensitive to the 
pain of those around me.  I really had to think on that one too.  How do I keep 
things like this from getting me down?  I'm generally a very happy person.  I 
get upset, but I can never stay angry for long.  It takes too much energy to 
hate in my opinion, and it never gets you anywhere anyway.  But that's another 
rant for another time.  

	As most find with the really challenging questions in life, the answer was 
staring me right in the face once I stopped trying so hard to find it.  
Appreciation comes from memory, and since it's remembering how fortunate I am 
that usually triggers the guilt in the face of other's misfortunes, then 
memory's got to be the answer I'm searching for, right?  

	So I can remember the loneliness of high school and the depression that 
went with it when I start to complain about my friends.  I can remember what it 
was like to have to accept hand-outs from family and friends because I had a 
need that I couldn't meet when I start to get pissy about my job.  I can 
remember any multitude of times that my mother or father held me and comforted 
me when I was going through something when they argue with my life decisions 
like they do (loudly and incessantly I might add).  I can remember what it felt 
like to be so lost and helpless when I begin to question my faith.  I can 
remember kind words from unexpected sources when I start to doubt my talents and 
abilities.  I can remember an eighty-hour bus ride back to a place I didn't want 
to be from a place I can't stand to be without whenever I get the urge to put on 
my traveling shoes before the time is right.

	Maybe your list is different than mine, who knows?  I certainly don't 
'cause I'm not you.  It's not about having the same things, or the same number 
of things to be grateful for.  This is just a small sample of things I look to 
so I don't lose the gift of empathy anyway.  Sometimes I struggle and I have to 
REALLY get back to basics.  Like, 'I woke up this morning' or 'I said good 
morning to someone as I was passing them on the way to work and they said hi 
back'.  But really, it's the attitude that counts.  See, just the way that one 
bad thing can displace a whole heap of good stuff that has happened to me, I've 
always believed that one good thing has the power to push away worlds of hurt if 
I let it.  Love, in the form of compassion, has the ability to do that.  

	I shouldn't feel guilty for having what everyone wants.  That doesn't mean 
I should be flip about it either.  Like in all things in this grand universe we 
live in, there is balance.  I think I just got one step closer to finding mine.

Senie [CreatorAtWork@yahoo.com]