What to Do When You Feel Guilty for Living When Others are Dying

On Self-care, Healing, and Finding Joy in the Midst of a Humanitarian Crisis 

At least 17,487 Palestinians have been killed since Israel began ethnically cleansing Gaza by way of a mass genocide in response to the Hamas attacks in Israel on October 7th. 

17,487.

In just 65 days. 

This number does not include the thousands of civilians who have been permanently injured, children who have become orphaned, homes and businesses lost, grave illness that is running rampant due to the hospital bombings and lack of food and medical supplies, and so much more. My words cannot do justice to the heartbreaking tragedy occurring right now. And, if I’m honest, I feel guilty about that. As a writer, I should be able to find the words to convey the depths of this despicable, disgusting, heartwrenching crisis. I mean, that’s the least I can do, right? But, alas, I’ve found myself without words most days. Just void of anything meaningful to say and guilt for having a life that I still get to live while hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians in Gaza (and Sudan and Congo) are fighting for their lives every day. 

Every ordinary moment I live feels like something I should apologize for. I feel like I don’t deserve these beautifully simple moments. I don’t deserve to have a warm bed to rest my head at night, a fridge full of food to fill my belly, and a plethora of lip glosses to choose from in my purse. And I certainly have no business feeling like I have any challenges in my life when my challenges are elementary at best compared to living amid a genocide. Who am I to complain about my little stressors while I sip on an espresso in the comfort of my own home? 

I don’t think I’m alone in these survivor-guilt feelings. I think these are feelings that many of us relate to. Especially since we are watching this massacre occur in real-time as valiant Palestinian journalists, such as Bisan, keep us updated daily with devastating on-the-ground footage. During a crisis like this, self-care, moments of joy, stressors and challenges, mental health, and more can feel all but frivolous. All of a sudden, self-care indeed feels selfish. But, not in the typical, “I-have-a-million-things-to-do-and-a-family-to-take-care-of-selfish,” but “I am selfish to partake in self care when self-care is a luxury to those who are losing their lives by the thousands.” 

How dare I indulge in that soothing skincare routine with my candle burning and my Lo-Fi music in the background? How dare I go to the gym, write in my journal, meditate, and attend my weekly therapy sessions? How dare I buy that pair of jeans I’ve been eyeing? Matter of fact, how dare I be happy and enjoy this time of year with my family? Holiday traditions such as baking cookies and attending light shows mean nothing right now. People. Are. Dying. 

Well, yes, and…

Yes, people are dying and this is a grave time. And…you are still a human with needs. 
Yes, this is a tumultuous, grievous time. And…you are still a human with needs.
Yes, it feels agonizingly guilty to be able to live while others are dying by the masses. And…you are still a human with needs. 

You are still a human with needs. We are still humans with needs. And that is okay. 

It is okay to live in the tension of the both/and. It is okay to feel the heartache, the guilt, the desperation and recognize that ignoring your needs and your life is not what will save the lives of those who are fighting for theirs. Yes, it is so unfair that thousands of beautiful, innocent people can no longer live their lives as they were once able to, just as we are now. That truth also applies to many other similar circumstances that are unrelated to an unprecedented present-day massacre. 

I remember when my dad died. We are nearing the 10-year anniversary of his death and the sorrow I feel from losing my best friend and protector has never diminished. It feels just as painful today as it did when my world suddenly stopped. I remember feeling such anger that everyone else’s world got to continue while my world had instantly come crumbling down. I remember feeling such jealousy and betrayal when I watched other women my age enjoy moments with their fathers while my moments had been stripped from me forever. I remember wishing they would just stop and see me and realize how hurtful it was to watch their lives continue. 

While I was justified in my hurt, my grief wasn’t allowing me to think clearly. It would have been incredibly selfish to ask everyone I knew to stop spending time with their dads or continue living their lives just because I had lost my dad and my life felt like it would never resume again. If anything, I should have been encouraging them to go soak up every moment they had left with their fathers and live every day as if it were their last, or the last of their loved ones, because you never know when that tragedy will strike and time is snatched away from you. I was young then, and didn’t have the mental clarity I do now about my feelings. I was grief-stricken, and that’s okay. But I am so glad that everyone I would see on Facebook posting pictures with their dads on Father’s Day or posting exciting updates about their lives kept on living. They deserved that. And so do we. 

As unfair as it feels, we do deserve to keep living. Just as if something dire were happening to us, those unaffected on the other side of the world would also deserve to keep living. We are all humans, and we all deserve to live. 

We are humans who are still…

…hungry
…hurting
…tired
…stressed
…burned out
…in need of love
…in need of joy
…in need of community
…in need of an income
…in need of shelter
…need to take care of our minds, bodies, and spirits.

And feeling guilty for having and fulfilling those needs is not doing anyone any favors. It’s merely storing unnecessary feelings that will just cause more burnout and take away from your ability to do anything productive for yourself or anyone else. 

Now, don’t get me wrong: being a human with needs is not an excuse to ignore the plight of your neighbor both near and far. This is not a permission slip to pretend you can’t see the humanitarian crisis or ignore it to “protect your peace.” Please remember how you would want the world to respond if you were in the shoes of those in crisis. Ignorance is not an option when our neighbors are suffering.

Ignorance is not an option when our neighbors are suffering.

Our society hates existing beyond the binary, but that is where we exist as humans. Nothing is simply black and white in humanity. We must eradicate either/or thinking from our society’s standards. This is the power of the both/and. To be both grieving for your neighbor and pursuing personal joy for your well-being. To feel both guilty for having the privilege to tend to your needs and know that it is important to continue doing so. To be both front and center in your advocacy and need to take breaks to take care of yourself. To both refuse to ignore the plight of your brothers and sisters and refuse to ignore your own plight. To both pause certain unnecessary activities to make room for more humanitarian efforts and continue pursuing your most important activities that ensure your well-being is prioritized. 

This is your permission slip to exist in the tension of the both/and.
This is your permission slip to continue fighting for your humanity as you fight for the world’s.

So, what do you do when you feel guilty for living while others are dying? You feel those feelings. You feel them as intensely as you need to. You let that guilt wave bring out the grief that is welling up in your soul and you allow that grieve to pour over and fuel your activism, support, and solidarity for your neighbor who is suffering. And, you continue to live. You continue to tend to your needs, both big and small. You get your exercise, you nourish your body, and you attend your therapy sessions. If you need a new pair of jeans, it’s okay to purchase them. If you are able, find ways to combine your self-care and your advocacy. Make sure the brands you are purchasing from are not funding genocide. Take a portion of your grocery budget and donate it to on-the-ground organizations working to get food and supplies to suffering civilians. Listen to podcasts reporting on the crisis during your morning workout sesh. 

Let the tension you feel fuel the work that you do. Just don’t neglect yourself in the process. Neglecting yourself out of guilt does nothing but center your feelings, make you feel even more miserable, and take energy away from what you should be focusing on. In other words: it does nothing. 

So, take care of yourself and your neighbor. It’s as simple as that.