Around midsummer of this year, I was undergoing an inexplicable spell of irrational guilt.
These types of episodes have come to me before, but they’re infrequent, thankfully. What happens is this: some tiny aspect of who I am or a deed I’ve done (or have failed to do) bubbles up into my consciousness, and for one reason or another, I become ultra-fixated on it and begin to silently condemn myself.
These patterns of thought don’t (or never have) resulted in full-blown self-loathing, but they gradually erode my self-esteem and self-efficacy. Suffice to say that they aren’t fun and I hope they leave me the hell alone in the future.