Naz introduced guilt (and shame) as self-conscious, negative emotions that are directed at the self, which involve being critical, ashamed, and self-depreciating. Often, the anger is self-directed. In the context of trauma, guilt and shame have been extensively studied in relation to childhood abuse as well as more recently in the context of ‘survivor’s guilt’ post trauma, for example accidents, war, casualties, and cancer.
Naz found little research carried out on guilt
in the context of cancer, but because guilt and shame are known to be risk
markers for depression, they have been studied implicitly in depression. With
the exception of a couple of studies, there is hardly any evidence or very little related to
'guilt' in breast cancer.
Our common experience of feeling guilty
manifested itself in myriad ways - from that first diagnosis when we ask why
me? And - what did I do wrong? Our long list of guilty feelings poured out: why
didn’t I find my cancer earlier? How awful we had found it to share the burden
of our illness with our loved ones, causing them anguish and worry. Then for
those of us who have come out the other side of treatment, there’s survivor’s
guilt – why am I doing ok when another didn’t make it? Those of us with secondary
breast cancer feel a sense of guilt about the impact of our illness on our
children, including the painful knowledge that we might not be able to support
and guide them into adulthood. Those of us with faulty genes shared our guilt
about finding out, the worry that relatives may have the gene too and whether
we’ve passed the fault on to our children.
Catholic guilt was mentioned and a deeply
ingrained sense of responsibility for getting cancer. Then, of course there’s
our work – we feel we let down our employers, our colleagues. We are
continually apologising to everyone around us for having cancer. Our guilt
spreads to the everyday stuff - that we don’t feel well enough to get
everything done that we used to do, that we have to ask for help, that others
have to care for our children, that we can’t exercise as much as we used to,
that we can’t eat as well as we’d like to, because we don’t have the energy to
cook, that we can’t engage fully with all the social events going on around us,
that we have to pace ourselves, rest and relax (we are lazy, is how we
unhelpfully see it.) The list goes on and on.......
But as our list grew, some of us began
counteracting with questions, suggesting to one another that we had no need to
take on so much guilt, and with this came the realisation that we are full of
good advice for others, but reluctant - or find it difficult - to listen to
ourselves.
And then came the voice of reason: ‘Why is
guilt an acceptable emotion and others not?... I think that guilt is a harsh
emotion to inflict on yourself just to make others feel better. Other people's
emotions are their responsibility - don't make them yours.’ This point made a
real impact on many of us, and brought us back to the negative futility of the
guilt. Some of us shared that we don’t feel guilty, we know that getting cancer
isn’t our fault, we didn’t do anything to deserve it, it’s just the hand we’ve
been dealt with in life.
Naz questioned whether guilt serves a purpose,
whether it can have a useful function in some cases? Our discussion came up
with no easy answers, and our conclusions perhaps were more around how we can
be resilient about our feelings in general – our anger, our sadness, our
frustration, our sense of unfairness, our regret. We wondered whether embracing
these emotions night allow us to be more truly be in touch with ourselves and
to reframe our guilt. We often talk about self-compassion in our group, and this
discussion highlighted once again how hard we can be on ourselves and that if
we are kinder to ourselves, perhaps we can stop wasting so much of our precious
energy on feeling guilty. Our discussion concluded with a powerful reminder
that we are strong, powerful, vibrant, passionate women with rich and full
lives.
This week our discussion explored our guilt and the
sense of responsibility we feel for the worry and pain our loved ones experience
as a result of our diagnosis with primary, or secondary, breast cancer.
Guilt can be one of the strongest emotions we experience - we feel
guilty for bringing this disease into the lives of our families and its impact
on our husbands, our partners, our parents, our colleagues, our employers. We
feel guilty for exposing our families and friends to worry, fear and
uncertainty. Those of us who are mothers are haunted by our sense of having
allowed an unspeakable horror into our children’s lives; those of us who want
to be mothers feel guilty that we may be unable to give our partners a family.
Some of us described feeling as though we had failed our loved ones in
some way. Rationally, we know we are not to ‘blame’ but we can’t help but
wonder what it was we did, or did not do, that might have caused us to develop
breast cancer. We find ourselves questioning our life-style choices, our
experiences and asking whether they could have contributed to our diagnoses.
The questions that follow us are: why me? why not me? where did I go wrong? did
I bring this on myself? Is this a punishment? We find ourselves taking on
responsibility for developing primary breast cancer, for facing side-effects
and complications, and if our cancer returns, for developing secondary breast
cancer.
Naz explained that we are not as well-equipped to cope with guilt as
other emotions. This is because guilt carries with it a strong emotional and
cognitive component that justifies this emotion. Usually, our cognitive brain
systems regulate or down play emotions that run high, but with guilt, our
cognitive systems often serve to re-affirm our guilty feelings. This is one of
the main reasons that feelings of guilt can last for a long time - for years
post trauma.
Unwittingly, the expectations and reactions of others can re-affirm our
guilty feelings. We are advised to - ‘stay strong’, ‘be positive’, ‘your family
needs you’, ‘you need to keep going because of them.’ But often we don’t feel
positive or strong and these 'sympathetic' comments increase our guilty
feelings, we feel we shouldn’t complain, we are supposed to feel ‘lucky’ -
because we have a ‘good cancer’, because we didn’t need chemotherapy, or
radiotherapy, or haven’t had a mastectomy.
The media, we decided, plays a role in exaggerating these unrealistic
expectations: are you strong enough? Brave enough? Tough enough? to ‘battle
cancer.’ Women with secondary breast cancer described their emotional anguish
as a result of the unspoken, offensive subtext that accompanies these messages
- that they were somehow not strong enough or brave enough to stop their cancer
coming back. The reality is that our power in influencing cancer outcomes and
recurrence is very limited. So we feel doomed to failure. Yet we suffer in
silence, unable to talk openly about the realities of secondary breast cancer.
Those of who have finished active treatment described how we want to
meet the high expectations that we and others hold of ourselves. But we are
exhausted, thrown into an ocean of uncertainty, trying to find a safe harbour
to shelter from the storm of cancer which can be a long and turbulent. We want
others to understand, to empathise, but we find ourselves mute and numb, unable
to communicate how we feel and what we are going through. Some of us described
feeling ‘survivors’ guilt’ when we have lost friends as a result of breast
cancer.
So can
guilt ever be made to disappear?
We can try to prioritise our own needs. We can share our vulnerability
so that others see our interior experience as well as the tough image that we
project outwardly. We can remind ourselves that we have very little control in
the development of this disease. We can forgive ourselves.
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