Catching My Breath: Learning to Let Go of Guilt

Catching My Breath: Learning to Let Go of Guilt

lived-experience #mental health #recovery #self-compassion #healing #resilience

Catching My Breath: Learning to Let Go of Guilt

It’s September already. I blinked and August vanished somewhere between a hospital bed, a hand brace, and a pile of things I didn’t do.

I’d hoped to “use the time well” after my thumb surgery—maybe write more, catch up on admin, even get ahead on content. I had a vision of one-handed productivity and imagined myself propped up in bed with a planner in one hand and a warm cup of tea in the other.

Instead, the days blurred. My body asked for stillness, but my mind spiralled. I watched my mood dip, my irritability creep in, my patience with myself (and others) evaporate. The most persistent symptom? Guilt.

Not just “oops I missed a post” guilt. No, this was the industrial-strength kind:

  • Guilt for needing help.
  • Guilt for not bouncing back.
  • Guilt that after tapering off my medication, the old depression and anxiety came back wearing new outfits.
  • Guilt for the way that affected my relationships.
  • Guilt for not managing my guilt.

It sounds ridiculous when written out like that. And yet—I know I’m not alone.

Veterans, trauma survivors, anyone who’s spent years masking or managing… we don’t just feel emotions. We audit them. We calculate the cost. We wonder who we’ve disappointed and whether our pain has become inconvenient.

So here I am, catching my breath—still healing, still irritable some days, still not back at full speed. But no longer carrying the weight of “should.”

The path forward wasn't a dramatic epiphany. Instead, it came in small moments of grace—tiny tools and practices that helped me loosen guilt's grip, one finger at a time.

A Gentle Plan for Letting Go of Guilt (When You’re Not at Full Strength)

Letting go of guilt isn’t a one-off decision. It’s a practice. One I come back to, over and over. Some days it works. Some days it doesn’t. And that’s okay.

Here’s what’s in my guilt-release toolkit right now:

1. Journaling Without Judgment

I don’t always know what’s going on until I write it down. My journal isn’t neat or inspirational—it’s messy, raw, and often full of angry scribbles. But getting the guilt out means it doesn’t rot in.

Sometimes I use prompts. Sometimes I just write, “I feel…” and go from there.

Even one line helps.

2. Meditation (Even If It’s Just Two Minutes)

Meditation doesn’t fix the guilt, but it reminds me I am not my thoughts.

I use the Calm app, and most mornings I sit—sore hand and all—for a few minutes, just breathing.

When my mind says, “You’re behind,” I gently think, “Yes. And I’m still worthy.”

3. Reset Routines Without Punishment

Instead of going back to my pre-surgery productivity schedule, I’ve started with:

  • 1 hour of focused work
  • 1 act of kindness to myself
  • 1 moment of connection (even just a text to someone I love)

That’s it. If I do more, great. If I don’t, that’s still a win.

4. Talking to Someone Who Gets It

Sometimes guilt shrinks the minute we say it out loud. Whether it’s a friend, my psychologist, or a peer from one of my veteran groups, speaking honestly reduces the shame.

And if you don’t have someone like that? That’s what this space is for. You’re welcome here.

5. Reframing the Inner Critic

I used to believe guilt made me a better person. More responsible. More aware.

But I’ve learned that guilt drains energy I could use for healing.

So now, when I catch myself spiralling, I ask:

“Is this helping me heal—or just making me hurt?”

If You’re Feeling It Too…

If you’re reading this with a familiar lump in your throat—know that you’re not broken.

Guilt is a very clever liar. It sounds like responsibility, but it’s often just shame in disguise.

And the more we carry it silently, the heavier it gets.

So here’s my permission slip (and maybe yours too):

  • You’re allowed to pause.
  • You’re allowed to recover slowly.
  • You’re allowed to be proud of small steps.
  • You’re allowed to not be everyone’s everything right now.
  • You’re allowed to feel guilt, and still choose not to obey it.

This month, I'll be exploring this theme deeper—sharing stories, tools, and reflections on the journey from self-judgment to self-compassion. I'd love to hear your voice in this conversation:

  • What's your relationship with guilt like right now?
  • Which tool from the toolkit resonates most with you?
  • What practice helps you show yourself grace?

Share your thoughts by sending me a private message. Your story might be exactly what another reader needs to hear.

Remember: If you're walking through your own rough patch right now, you're not behind. You're not failing. You're human. And that's not just okay—it's exactly where healing begins.

With gentleness,

—Helen

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