I have always thought of guilt the same way I think of physical pain. It is a useful warning sense. It tells us we are breaching something dangerous. A signal to stop and reassess what you are doing and make a change to keep safe, healthy, and happy.
But sometimes something goes wrong. An illness will damage nerves so that you feel pain even when there is nothing else wrong. The pain is the illness. The guilt is the illness.
So I pour myself a glass of cream. I make myself a plate of bacon. Add some mayo. This can’t be right.
But it so clearly is.
The pain is wrong. And knowing that is the cure.