By Sumaiyah //
My guilt is pretty delusional. It thinks I am lonely and needs friendship. It thinks it should occupy a big space in my heart and life. It also thinks I have a lot of free time and that I enjoy mentally going through the things I am doing, or not doing. Again, again; then one more time again for luck.
It especially rings my doorbell (with a bag of chips) whenever I think about my daughter.
“Ooh, Kinder Surprise Eggs again, she loves it; I know, but I heard sugar kills a kid’s brain.”
“Aw, so sweet, you helped her paint. Too bad the activity only lasted 20 minutes. She was on YouTube Kids more than twice as long. Actually longer, but that’s between you and I. You know, screen time also kills creativity. What a waste of all that time painting.”
Yes, my guilt is not very kind. It pretends that it is just being observant, giving constructive feedback and promising me that it just wants me to be better.
We always end up in a cuddle, with that bag of chips between us. Again, my guilt has seduced me into spending time with it. As tears fill my eyes, I forget that my daughter is in front of me – playing with her Play-Doh now, making all sorts of shapes that would have made me giggle. She once made (with help from Daddy) pancakes, a bunny rabbit and her favourite – a spider.
In these COVID-19 times, my guilt has decided to isolate itself in my house. It is like a djinn, watching me and gleefully, whispering, reminding me of things I am not managing particularly well.
My guilt’s favourite activity is commenting on my social media activity, saying, “Wah, your friend can cook chilli crab pasta.” and “YOWZA, this friend is a mother of 3, but look she has lost ALL her pregnancy weight”. It becomes increasingly excited, sometimes it breaks out in song and dance – creating many dramas.
This is well-known: my guilt’s sworn enemy is my gratitude. I called my girl gratitude up – it’s been a while since we had coffee. It was awkward at first, summoning her suddenly. But I knew in my heart I needed her. We started to chat in secret in the mornings, and I poured out my heart and soul to her. She asks me the most beautiful questions: “What makes your daughter’s eyes light up? When your heart sings, what do you notice you are doing at that very moment? Hey, have you looked at the clouds today? Who is your favourite person in the whole universe, past or present?”
Guilt was not happy. It shook its head in disappointment. It blasted break-up songs, threatening to leave. I played its game. I sang even louder: “I got myself together, got a new attitude, hope that I see you never, I’m so over you…”
Gratitude was that girlfriend everyone loves though. The one who lights up rooms. The one with the calm, yet bubbly presence – you just want to be with her when she does pottery or yoga, or even go with her for a tortuorous run.
Gratitude felt empathy for guilt. Gratitude thanked guilt for all it had ever done, for its intentions to help.
I just stood there, dumbfounded. I had been prepared to do some kungfu fighting. Guilt smiled. It was also speechless and with dazzling positive vibes swimming around.
Said my guilt, “I will always be within you, your old loyal friend. But gratitude has taught me a thing or two about gentleness. I have a lot to learn. I am going to go away now. I have to understand myself. Perhaps I will learn mindfulness meditation, maybe prayer, maybe poetry?”
So we gave it our best wishes.
And I let my guilt go.
Sumaiyah is a certified peer support specialist who is in recovery from schizophrenia and depression. She is a proud mother to a beautiful daughter and enjoys writing, reading, and drinking warm coffee and tea. Journaling is an immensely helpful coping strategy for her.
Sumaiyah’s story is part of our #CopingCovid19 series, click here to read more stories about people coping wth Covid19 and their mental health.