Guilt…my other middle name

I am almost always covered in a thin layer of guilt. a film of guilt floats on top of the ocean of my soul as if I have had an oil spill and now have a bunch of helpful vegetarians on gap year trying to save penguins in the inner recesses of my mind.

I was reading this meme yesterday that said something like “stop being friends with people who don’t check up on you regularly”. I’m one of those people, I envisioned every friend, family member and acquaintance unfriending me in real life after reading that. See I’m not good with keeping in touch. I mean we already established that I’m a sucky friend. So the guilt is somewhat warranted. 

I am not good with checking in unless your picture pops up on my social media feed. I spend my days working and my nights half working. I haven’t had a “proper break” in like two years and the other day I had so much caffeine (to keep going) that I could physically feel my heart beat in my chest. I also may or may not have have a mental breakdown somewhere in November.


Although I haven’t popped in in a while,I do care though. I see you post a picture of your child and I hate myself for being shocked at how big they are now. I realise that your hair looks different and berate myself because I can’t recall what it looked like before this. I hate that i have to cut my days into tiny little sections to get all my tasks to fit in which ultimately means I can no longer chat over dessert and then catch up tomorrow and berate ourselves for eating dessert. 

I even feel guilty for feeling guilty and heaven forbid I do something with friend A then suddenly I feel like I somehow betrayed friend B.


My guilt consumes me, it’s always been a symptom of my anxiety anyway. I’ve felt some form of guilt almost constantly since I can remember feeling anything. Lately my guilt has faces. The faces of people who I love dearly but have not had time for, but until I fill my own cup I won’t be able to pour anything for anyone. I try anyway and end up a dried out husk with nothing but dust to give to my ever so patient boys.

I’m working on switching off, on smelling the roses for more than just a review, to read more than instructions and to take a damn nap without laying there for 40minutes listing things I could have better spent my time on…

I am working on it but usually my guilt eats at me at around 1am when it’s too late to do  anything about it.

Dear friend,Just know that although I don’t always show it I care deeply and just pray that you never forget  that even though I don’t  always reach out, I am forever in your reach. 

5 thoughts on “Guilt…my other middle name

  1. Mandy Lee Miller says:

    My beautiful friend. You are NOT a bad friend. Not even a little. You are a friend that we know is always there if we need you. Life is insane for all of us. I have a half written blog post from late last year (that I do need to finish) called “it’s not you, it’s me”. Pretty much this exact blog post except with more “woe is me” on the endless to do list. Friendship works in more than one direction. Your friends are perfectly capable of reaching out to you too. It’s not all on you. Love you lady (and your beautiful way with words) xx

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