On Carrying Shame

I found this in my Drafts folder. I don’t remember who I wrote this about. But I do remember feeling this way. And today, it feels like a message from another one of my selves, telling me what I need to hear.

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I did something I feel terrible about. I hurt somebody and I did so in a cold, incisive manner that would impress me with its finesse, if hurting someone wasn’t a horrible thing to do. I’m horrified by how well, how easily and how unplannedly I did it.

Years ago, a friend gave me the thought that sarcasm was the recourse of the weak and it’s an idea I’ve tried to keep in mind. I was an awfully sarcastic person before that and I’ve tried my damndest to keep away from that.

This comes from the same place. An insidious, highly intelligent attack strategy aimed at maiming a person’s emotional well-being. That is for someone who is a master of words. It does not give me pride to know that. Using words that I love so much for such damage is a terrible thing to do.

I think I’m most upset because I thought I had put away and then disconnected that side of me years ago. I lived through the time before that not realising this side of me and then acting as if it were a normal, natural way to be. It’s a terrible flaw to feel entitled to your flaws. With this last action, it’s like Ms.Hyde surfaced, leering.

“So you thought I was gone? That’s cute.”

I wish I could say I was drunk or one of those things to excuse myself but I wasn’t. I was wounded by someone and I have spent days teaching myself to take deep breaths, not give in to my flinch response and to stay true to my better self. Yesterday, I didn’t just lash out, I attacked. I do not like seeing this petty, petulant side of myself. In striving hard not to succumb to it, it has been easier to imagine I do not have such a side at all. It’s horrible uncovering self-hatred even to a long unseen side of yourself.

One of the things I read just now, amidst wallowing in this guilt was,

“You must be as kind to yourself as you would be to another in a similar situation.”

I guess I needed to let myself suffer a bit. There’s great drama in feeling like a fallen angel. Deep breath. In, out. Tomorrow is another day. Ms.Hyde will be waiting but I guess strength is not about wearing blinkers or editing yourself. It’s about carrying the worst parts of you along with the best.

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