Wednesday, February 9, 2011

[gnawing]

At first I thought I was going to write a post about guilt, and then I looked it up. Guilt was the wrong word, I didn't do anything wrong, but the definition only seemed to imply wrongdoing. So I looked for synonyms and their meanings, and realized this post is actually about remorse.

If you would have asked me to sum up my feelings a few years ago amongst other things, anxiety would have been high on the list. I’ve always been a bit of an anxious person, getting worse in college and coming to a head during wedding planning. I was even having anxiety attacks, unable to breath, freaking out, full blow anxiety attacks. So, I overcame the horrible feeling of embarrassment and got help. Feeling ridiculous, I went to the doctor and got medicine. It helps, it really does. Although I still feel like I’m being a baby and I should suck it up. Very few people that I know in real life know that I take medication for anxiety, because I feel like a mental case if I tell them. But, call me whatever, it helps.

Lately though, if I had to choose one word to describe my feelings, it would be remorse. No, not buyers remorse [I think my husband wishes it was that!] but I just feel guilty all of the time. Literally all.of.the.time. Sometimes for big things, most times for the small stuff. The definition from merriam-webster.com hit the nail on the head. [gnawing] that’s exactly what I feel. For not staying up late enough, for not wanting to workout, for not seeing my family enough, for not returning calls/texts/emails, for nagging on my husband, for spending money on wants when so many others can’t even buy needs, for not cooking dinner for my husband, for gaining weight, for not feeling ready to start a family even though my husband is begging, for making little issues bigger than they need to be, for ending relationships with friends, for wanting a house when I have a nice condo, for not running far enough or fast enough…it goes on and on.

Don’t get me wrong, I know we all have questions running through our head. Am I trying hard enough to have a relationship with my inlaws? Is it a big deal if the car is dirty? Does it matter if I sit and read this book for a few hours and let the laundry wait? And I know people will always compare themselves to others; whether it be the size of the house, the ability to stay home with their children, the number of vacations you take, or even how skinny the neighbor with 5 kids is. And I am happy, truly, honestly, whole-heartedly HAPPY with my life. I have an amazing husband, an adorable dog, the most supportive and caring family in the world, a job I enjoy, friends to call, we love life & explore when we want to, but I can’t help but wonder if this is normal? Does the gnawing ever go away?

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