You Wear Guilt
You wear guilt like a noose around your neck. There it hangs, just waiting to be yanked by me and the tightening ligature around that slender neck will bring you back into line. I can then allow the noose to hang about your neck once again, ready to be used as soon as I decide that it is necessary. You do not even try to remove this noose, you would, of course feel guilty if you tried to do so and as a consequence it will always remain with you, on you and about you.
There is no slow squeezing when this noose is called into action. It is immediate, painful and chastising. It allows the sudden and instant exertion of control. What better way than to achieve this than relying on something that is intrinsic to another person. This noose burns, it constricts and it chokes and you know that it is not going to go anywhere. The only way to deal with it is to comply and then the noose will slacken but it will not grant you release.
You have carried this noose for a very long time. Once upon a time it was only a few strands thick, yet for all of that apparent fragility, it could not be cut nor broken, neither snapped or torn. As time went on, the strands multiplied so that the thickness increased until now it hangs about you, sturdy and effective. Nobody else wove those additional strands into it. You did. You brought it all on yourself because of the twisted delight you have to wear this noose. You regard it as an obligation. It is part of who you are and whilst the pain it causes you is something that you would prefer not to have to suffer, you know that when it makes you suffer, you gain comfort from its presence and effect.
You know that not everybody has such a noose. There are those who do not even have one. You wonder often what that must be like. Not to have the yoke about you which weighs you down, restricts you and governs you. What must such freedom feel like? Then there are those who have such a noose but they seem to be able to lift it off and leave it behind when it suits them. Others still find that the noose is weak and it snaps apart when it seeks to apply pressure against its wearer. No such release for you.
This is the noose that has you always compliant. Sometimes you fight against it, hoping that you might perhaps once, just once, be able to exert such strength that causes it to break, but it never happens. No matter what resistance you exhibit or how much you strain to tear it apart, you fail and have no choice other than to comply so that the pain recedes. It leaves its mark about you. There is no doubt about it. Even though the searing pain may have lessened, you can feel that tight grip still and you know that others can see where it has left its mark. Not all have this ability to recognise the mark of the noose, but a certain group do and they always want to exploit its presence. Oh there have been times when you have sought to hide this noose, mask its presence in the hope that you escape the attention of those who recognise it. Even if you manage to conceal the noose, the mark that it has left about your neck is like an indelible stain. You cannot remove it and it is the stamp that tells those who know these things that you carry such a noose.
You may not realise that it is you who has added those additional strands over the years, causing the noose to thicken and strengthen. Those strands are bound together, layer upon layer, wound about one another, so that they become more than the sum of their parts. The strands which are fashioned from your pervasive, deep-seated guilt, are added to because of those things which you say and do. Each time you think a certain way, which you cannot help but do because of who and what you are, another strand is added, then another, until soon the noose becomes thick and heavy. Each time you think the following
It is my fault; I did not listen.
I need to do more to help.
He cannot help it.
I need to ensure I understand.
If only I could be stronger.
If only I knew what to do.
I should be getting home; he will wonder where I am.
I should not be doing this.
I should not speak ill of him really; he is my husband.
I should not think these things, I do love him, I just feel so weak and this is when I have these thoughts.
I ought to have realised.
I must listen more.
I have to keep trying.
I owe it to him to help.
He isn’t as bad as people say.
If I just keep going it will become better.
I have to try because if I don’t, who will be there for him.
It is my duty.
I made my vows and I shall abide by them.
I must be doing something wrong to make him feel like this.
I just seem to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.
These thoughts and words, plus many more, cause the noose to become stronger. Thus it tightens and I yank it, pulling you in my direction so that you remain under my control, bound by this guilt to serve, to support and to fuel. An ever present burden which you add to yourself each and every day. A method by which you are manipulated, cajoled and coerced to fulfil my needs.
This noose is not there to hang you. No, there is no desire to bring about your demise. You are more effective to us functioning. Your guilt will not bring about your end, but instead it acts to maintain your imprisonment.
You make the noose grow.
I make the noose control you.
Can it be escaped? We think not. It is for life. Even though it may not tighten or constrict for some time, even years, it is always there and with the mark so prominent, another may come and utilise the control that the noose affords even though we may not be able to.
We will not lift it. It matters too greatly to us.
We will not lift it because it is your burden, perpetuated by you.
But it can be lifted. It is not simple or straightforward and we ensure we do not allow you the opportunity to address this chance to relieve yourself of this noose of guilt. It can be done. It is quite the task to achieve but for you, that journey begins by answering one question.
Who put it there in the first place?
13 thoughts on “You Wear Guilt”
Before he disappeared, I kicked him out of the house twice, shouting: “Get out!”
I did not mean it. I wanted to shake him up, wake him up, tear down this wall so that he was REALLY with us. Not only his body from time to time.
He would come back and he was close again… for a while.
I felt guilty for not being as understanding and patient as I should have been.
Now I feel guilty only towards our child that I gave her such a father.
I’m sorry, daughter 🙁
The traumas and narcissistic abuse, are like layers of rock gradually building up over millennia worth of volcanos and lava settling. Earthquakes as ‘chinks’ in my ‘armour’ yet the ‘fault lines’ remained, never totally closing. At the same time, the layers of rock were suffocating and compressing.
The above image is apt as a visual effect of the ‘invasion’ of narcissistic abuse, or of narcissism within an individual. Some people may have less and others have more of the black ‘veins’ of ‘infiltration’. Either way, the image appears to depict the ‘pain’ (or vulnerability) and the need to protect themselves from further abuse of those affected (whether it is conscious, or not).
This article was another one that I found I could understand about my own experiences, especially after ‘removing’ some of the nooses over a period of time of ‘learning’. It is a horrible thought that as children of narcissist(s), we are made to assume from a young age that it is something we did (from both our perceptions), that leads to a life-time ‘train of thought’ until educated ‘otherwise’.
HG, thank you for writing and writing your work.
How do you know all of this, HG?!
I am the Ultra. I am exceptionally clever, I watch and listen and receive huge amounts of information which I process and analyse.
HG, it’s a shame more people don’t notice the things that you do! That last line “Who put it there in the first place?” – spot on! Realising this is half the battle, it seems!
This should be posted in every women’s shelter.
Let’s not fight any more. I hate it when you’re upset and it bothers me when I’m apart of the problem upsetting you. I think you misjudge me but that’s how it is. Unfortunately.
You have mistaken contempt for upset.
And apart from a part.
I’m not fighting with you, HG. You are free to do whatever you want.
Thank you for telling me what I already know.