guilty

I've been feeling guilty. I believe that this is why I have felt such despair as of late.
But I did not become aware of, and therefor acknowledge this guilt until recently, when I finally admitted to myself what was really bothering me. What was the root of it all.
On Wednesday morning, sadly at work, I bawled. I wept like I have not wept in years. It was in this moment that I finally gave voice to my current struggles, the struggles that had been suffocating me. That morning, I finally told someone about the demons in my head, the clouds of debt and unworthiness that had been following me, since returning from my summer of travel. My insecurity in my new life, my knew being.
I came back from Italy a different person. More aware of who I am, more in tune with my feelings and inner longings. But I also came back to a new life. Two days after returning, I moved. But days after, I was traveling again, not giving myself a chance to welcome this new life, this new freedom from the chains that I had felt in my old living situation, which had weighed me down for almost three years.
When I walked into my door at the end of my travels, the song Catalyst by Anna Nalick was playing on my iPhone, 3 cats ran to greet me, and I felt instantly, utterly alone. This, along with one other unmentionable circumstance, was the start for me. The start of this month of despair. Of unmanageable anger and grief. Yet no tears came. No gut wrenching, deep soul cleaning tears would form. My insides became harder and harder.
For once in my life, it seems, I reached out to people. I did not want to go through what I was going through. The odd thing is that the Christian friends that I reached out to, though they prayed for me, they were not THERE for me. They did not call. They did not check in. I reached out and felt alone. I did not know that they were praying. There was no communication. This destroyed me more. And I thought to myself... this is why people say that the church fails them.
A handful of incredible other friends were there for me, though. They reached out to me, in the same way that I would have reached out to them if I had been in the same boat. Dropping their plans and taking me out for supper, just to talk to me and be with me over veggie burgers and mashed potatoes. They stayed up with me till 1 am on my bed, while we talked and cried and laughed, even though they had to get up early the next morning, even though they were going through their own struggles. There were people that were there. To these people, and you know who you are, I am incredibly grateful. To the others that I reached out to, I am thankful for the prayers. Incredibly important. Yet I needed verbal communication. I needed you. Maybe I was at fault, because I didn't communicate that. Yet... I feel that I did... Sometimes we need to not expect things from people. Then there will be no disappointment when they do not react in the way that we wish for them to.
On Wednesday morning, I woke up. And I cried. I finally told my Mom about my fears, my feelings of inadequacy, my feelings of worthlessness, the thoughts that I will never amount to anything... yet the thing that really hit me was how guilty I felt about feeling so down about all of these seemingly minute things, when, in my mind, other people, other friends, they have REAL problems. I felt guilty for feeling the very real feelings that I was harboring on the inside.
The ironic thing is that I sat this summer in the courtyard of the convent in Italy, with a dear friend, ten years my junior, as tears splashed on my shirt and she admitted to me that she felt angry about the feelings that she had about certain things. And I told her, with complete certainty, that her feelings are real. That if she feels these feelings, then no one could tell her otherwise. They are real. And true. And she is allowed to feel how she feels. And that it is OK.
Last night a friend told me the same thing.
Why do we allow guilt to destroy us? I hadn't admitted my feelings about these things, very real feelings, because I felt guilty. And this month nearly destroyed me. But getting these things off of my chest, finally vocalizing them, suddenly I was better. The burden was lifted. The weight was suddenly shared. Friends came around me and yoked themselves to me and helped me carry the burden. I am forever grateful.
We need to be open with people. We need to talk. We need to be real. In the wake of all of the bullying and pain that is at the forefront of the news today, there is a desperate need for people to open up to other people, but also for people to be there for those around them. If these certain friends hadn't been there for me, I don't know what I would have done.
Open up. Encourage people. Be there for those people around you. Hanging out with a depressed person can be incredibly discouraging and even down right annoying. But when they get through what they are going through, they will look back and be able to thank you for giving up your time for them in the way that you did. For being there for them when no one else was. It is incredibly important that we give of our time for our friends. Reach out to them. You have no idea what friend is sitting at home tonight, on thanksgiving Sunday, with nowhere to go, feeling sad and alone. Pick up the phone. Call someone. Write a letter. Encourage someone. Smile at a stranger. Be a light. Treat others the way that you want to be treated. Be the difference that you want to see in the world.
Happy thanksgiving and lots of love
Deena