Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Uncertain guilt...J.P. Bowie
Lisabet's post made me dig deep into my memory of the many years past since I lived with my parents. Does guilt always revolve around parents? Is the fact that perhaps you didn't live up to their expectations enough to make you feel guilt? I really don't know because I have no idea what my parents ever expected of me. It was never discussed, and so when I left home at nineteen and made my way into show business and toured the UK and hardly ever went home again, there was never a shred of guilt to give me pause. I was young and carefree, living my life the way I wanted to live it...no boundaries, no shame, no guilt.
That's not to say that I was out there doing drugs - maybe a little pot now and then. Getting hammered every night? No, couldn't handle it after the first godawful hangover. Having sex at the drop of someone's pants? Well, I was young and eager to explore all the possibilities. Breaking hearts? Ah, maybe one or two...and even today that can bring a twinge of remorse. The look of despair, the hurt expression, the slumped shoulders, I can remember well, and yes, I feel guilty. Of course, those I hurt went on and found someone more worthwhile,so why when I cast my mind back to those times, does it still make me feel ashamed?
Perhaps guilt is just part of the human psyche, something we inherit biologically, some primitive part of our Id that pokes at our brain now and then to make us do better, behave better, curb our tongues, stop us from lashing out, then feeling guilty.
When my parents grew old, and I was still not really part of the family unit, I did feel guilty. Guilty perhaps, for not being more available, for not doing more to ease them into their old age - ridiculous really, because no one can do that - but the fact remains that as the years went by and they had long since passed, those feelings of being remote, somehow outside the family circle have proved to be my burden.
I'm just not sure if it's really guilt, or just simply sorrow.