There is only one way to achieve happiness on this terrestrial ball, and that is to have either a clear conscience or none at all.
OGDEN NASH, AMERICAN POET
Finally, the torment of suppressed guilt, especially when the above problems have been witnessed in others, can lead to these attitudes: I will be damned if I do, so I might as well not try, or more scarily, I’ll be damned if I do, so I might as well be even more evil or die.
In Chapter 7 I will be suggesting some more effective ways for dealing with suppressed guilt.
Summary: Suppressed guilt
• Suppressed guilt is the kind that is consciously felt, but is not outwardly expressed.
• It damages the mental health of the guilty person.
• It can have knock-on negative effects on the people with whom they interact.
• The longer the guilt is suppressed the more difficult it is to deal with and there is a risk that the consequences of outing it will be more negative.
Disguised guilt
This is guilt that has been suppressed, but the person feeling it is not currently consciously aware that they feel guilty. It becomes apparent only because of other mental-health symptoms or other problems. The mental-health symptoms can vary enormously from classified illnesses such as depression, OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorders) and addictions. The other problems may be more everyday issues such as persistent relationship difficulties, career issues, low confidence or anger mishandling. It is during the investigation of possible causes of these problems that buried guilt is uncovered as a contributing cause. Traditionally, and probably most commonly, this takes place with a therapeutic professional such as a psychiatrist, psychotherapist or counsellor. At the start of consultations clients often say, ‘I have no idea why – everything was fine. I have a good job and a great family. The first panic attack came out of the blue. I didn’t know what was going on. That started me off getting anxious. I just worry about what to wear, about getting lost, food contamination – you name it and I worry!’
Alternatively, they could deny they have a problem or lay the blame on others: ‘She thinks I’ve become anti-social and prefer my tablet to people. Yes, I like games, but I’m not addicted – I’m shattered after work and they relax me.’
Professional therapists are trained to look for hidden causes of problems, especially where there seems to be no obvious reason for symptoms. They are skilled listeners who will focus as much on body language and what is not being said as on what the person is saying. If the cause isn’t evident in their present life, they will also take an interest in the person’s past as well. In this way they may uncover guilt about a wrongdoing that the client may have completely forgotten about, or not considered relevant to their current issue. Sometimes this guilt is rational and sometimes it is not. Very often it is a mixture of the two.
In my twenties I was diagnosed with serious depression. Luckily for me I was referred to an excellent (and very patient!) therapist. The main reasons for my mental state were plentiful and complex and I don’t need to spell all these out now. But it is relevant to share with you how disguised guilt played a part in stopping me from moving forward once my depression had lifted.
Leading up to my depressive illness, I had made myself jobless. I had failed miserably (in my eyes) at two jobs that I had desperately wanted to succeed at. My first was as a childcare officer. One of my clients had beaten his first child so badly that she was taken into care. When the couple had their second baby he and his wife sincerely wanted to make sure that this couldn’t happen again. They both adored their new little girl. I visited them regularly and my colleagues and supervisor agreed that they had made great strides in their parenting and stress management. They didn’t think it would be necessary to admit the baby to care while I was on holiday. However, when I returned I was told that the father had lost his temper and killed the baby. No one for a moment thought this tragedy was in any way my fault. And in my rational mind I knew that this was true. But my guilt and despair were too great, and I resigned. I vowed to give up social work forever.
After working for some months quite happily as a shop assistant, a friend of a friend told me that a housemother of a children’s home was urgently needed. He thought I would be ideal and should apply. As I had spent the majority of my own childhood in children’s homes, I was keen to try. And try and try I did. But ultimately I failed. As staff our days were spent stopping the children from beating each other up. The quality care I had wanted to give them, and my staff, was an impossible dream. This time I blamed the system and underfunding and resigned. I felt angry and hopeless and eventually got so seriously depressed that I ended up in hospital.
My psychotherapist cleverly sniffed out guilt as a persistent issue in my troubled history. She unearthed a mountain of forgotten remorse and self-blame dating back to my early childhood. My habitual way of disguising my guilt was to become a rescuer of others. As a child it had started with my kid brother and sister and children weaker than me. By the time I reached adulthood my cause had become global.
As you have probably guessed, this habit is still with me. It is, however, no longer disguised. This means that I can control it and use it in a more focused and constructive way. An added bonus is that this personal experience has left me with a nose for sniffing out buried guilt! Here’s an example:
Jeff came to see me because his marriage was falling apart. It emerged that one of the main causes was that his wife thought he had a drinking problem. He didn’t accept that his drinking was an issue. He spoke defensively about it and said it was just part of his job. He had to drink sometimes, as that was the way you met and started relationships with new customers.
I encouraged Jeff to tell me a little more about his job. It was one that involved quite a bit of travel. We talked about some of the places he had been to. It emerged that one of them was Budapest. In sharing our impressions of this city he recalled having a one-night stand with a Hungarian colleague. He had virtually forgotten the incident. He laughed it off, saying he was young then and they had both been drinking a little too much that evening. At first he couldn’t even remember her name or the year it had taken place, but when we explored it a little more his memory became clearer. As it did, he started to fidget and his hand started covering his mouth. He then recalled that, at the time, his wife had been pregnant with their first child. I noticed that his eyes were looking watery and I quietly asked him how he was feeling. He said, ‘Guilty, I suppose, and a bit fearful.’ The fear that he felt was that he would end up like his dad, who was ‘a true alcoholic and womaniser’, and that he, too, might lose his family. He felt immense guilt about not having been able to help his mother more. She remained depressed and bitter until the present day. Jeff was feeling less and less inclined to spend time with her and so feeling even guiltier.
The good news at the end of this story is that Jeff and his wife did repair their marriage. Jeff found new ways to network for new customers and gained a clearer and more rational perspective on his responsibilities towards his mother.
As we know, many people are unwilling to go to a therapist, especially if their problem doesn’t feel like a big issue to them. Jeff did, but I don’t believe most people need to do so. If the disguised guilt is caught early enough, a partner or close friend who knows the person well may spot it. In Chapter 8 I will outline some guidelines and give some tips on listening in a way that helps people to open up.
Summary: Disguised guilt
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