Guilt is a Crow

life, living with disability, ME/CFS, poetry, psychology, , , 24 Comments

I seem to be stuck in an unhealthy cycle – I push myself beyond my limit and then crash. I’m driven by expectations I’ve set for myself and then taunted by guilt when I can’t fulfill them. There is no room in this toxicity to stop and appreciate accomplishments.

Guilt is a crow
pecking at my shiny places,
mocking my sensitivity.
She stalks,
goading me into action,
then cackles with delight
when I stumble.
I am her trained pet,
and I don’t know how
to untether myself.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

24 thoughts on “Guilt is a Crow”

  3. It’s hard to shed guilt, most unwarranted, but we bring it on ourselves for no real reason. We must remember to take care of ourselves and not let outside sources intervene.

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  8. I get it. It’s so hard to say enough to yourself. I have to stop telling myself that I’m going to hurt anyway, so why not push myself.

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