The Self-inflicted Guilt Trip

After spending my entire Saturday with another lady impacted by cancer, we swapped stories and experiences about our very different, yet very similar situations.

Something we discussed that I’m not sure anyone is ever fully ready to share is the taboo subject regarding finances.

I cannot ever say thank you enough to all who have donated money to my family. No amount, big or small, went unnoticed. Sometimes it was a card in the mail with cash signed, “your friend” and sometimes it was a group of friends who went to the bank and paid our mortgage.

And while eternally grateful for every single penny, somewhere along the way it shifts your mindset and worry. Now, I feel owned. I felt like I had to explain to every single person I came across that I didn’t use their money to go to Disney. I didn’t use your money to take my girls to Cracker Barrel, and I didn’t use your money to buy a new Christmas tree. I did use your money to pay an anesthesia bill that my insurance company wouldn’t cover because I guess they thought I should’ve done a double mastectomy while conscious. I did use your money to pay my girls’ over-due lunch balance. I did use your money to buy MJ new glasses when hers broke. I did use your money to replace our 12 year old mattress I could no longer tolerate sleeping on after surgery.

While my heart tells me I owe no one anything, my head says otherwise. I know the majority of people donate because they want to. A large chunk of people donated anonymously and I feel guilt about not thanking them.

And then there’s less than the 1% of you who have felt the need to actually bring it up in conversation and hold it over my head. And believe me, sir, once the collection agencies stop calling and I’m able to save up the amount you wrote that check for, I will in fact give you that money back, because I personally, with ALL my mental illnesses, cannot get past the fact that you think so little of me or my family.

I honestly thought I was the only person to feel this way, and blame my own faults and insecurities. But turns out, I’m not the only one who has felt this way… and after our conversation yesterday, I wonder how many others feel the same.

I was sharing this conversation with my parents last night and my dad reiterated how my blog helps others see the side of the story they will hopefully never experience. I then reminded him how hard it is to share because there always has to be the one (or two) person(s) who ruin it. 

For every tenth person who thanks me for sharing, I can only remember the one person who publicly posted my blog is pathetic and attention-seeking.

If I really wanted attention, I would have definitely chosen a different route that didn’t include my darkest, most shameful thoughts and feelings. The attention I’m seeking is in hopes of normalizing and accepting mental disease.

It is also my hope that one day I can truly, honestly give myself the grace so many of you have. I started my blog six years ago to bring light to mental illness and struggles. Then over the past year it became my cancer outlet. But one thing that didn’t go away is my constant, daily struggles. It’s cancer, plus mental illness. 

It’s constantly thinking I’m not good enough, or I go about things the wrong way. I share too much, or I’m too vague. I bring up uncomfortable topics, I say things I shouldn’t. But that’s who I am. That’s how I live every single day. It’s how I struggle, and it’s how I prevail. I say the awkward things. I say the uncomfortable things. 

And after about the fifth or sixth time of crying yesterday, I had to admit to my cohort that THIS is the very reason I blog. I struggle speaking aloud and verbalizing my thoughts without crying. Typing is my therapy. My hour-long sessions with my therapist Mike are usually about 45 minutes of me trying to speak through tears. But writing allows me to type out my thoughts, and even if I’m crying the whole time while doing it, at least no one sees that part.

I look forward to the day that hopefully my blogs no longer include the word cancer; but my blogs will never, ever not be my truth. Right or wrong, too deep or not deep enough, appropriate or inappropriate, it’s always going to be me. And there will always be the self-inflicted guilt trip, because that’s who I am: just a writer of a pathetic, attention-seeking blog. *Insert wink*