The Guilt That Lingers

After my son’s addiction took hold, guilt became my shadow. It followed me everywhere—into conversations, into sleepless nights, into every memory that began with what if.

What if I’d seen the signs sooner?
What if I’d said no more often—or said yes when it mattered most?
What if I’d been stronger, softer, wiser?

Guilt convinces us that we could have changed the outcome if only we’d loved better. But addiction isn’t that simple. It’s a disease, not a reflection of our parenting or our worth.

I carried that guilt for years until I realized it wasn’t helping me heal—it was keeping me stuck. I began to speak to myself the way I’d speak to another grieving parent: gently, honestly, without judgment.

You did the best you could with what you knew at the time. You loved deeply, even through confusion and fear. That matters.

Forgiving ourselves isn’t about erasing the past—it’s about releasing the weight that keeps us from moving forward. Our children wouldn’t want us trapped in that pain.

Let go of guilt, little by little. Replace it with grace. Because love, even imperfect love, is still love—and it’s enough.