In an effort to trace my frequently overwhelming demons of guilt and anxiety I’ve been trying to trace it back to their origins. The first time I remember feeling guilty is when my grandpa died when I was 5. I felt I hadn’t given him enough attention or love. His death was sudden and accidental. Head injury. Brain bleed. Which is a bizarre thing for a child to think…I think. I’m not entirely sure what normal kids think about.
The anxiety was originally just manifested by severe separation anxiety from my mother. This is mostly because I had horrid asthma when I was little and acutely aware that if not addressed properly I would just…die. after my grandpa dies I realized that you didn’t need to be sick to die. I was horrified that my mom could die while I wasn’t there. Every time she left me anywhere I would have what I know now is a panic attack.
I grew out of the asthma eventually. The guilt and anxiety. ..not so much.