I didn’t go to confession for about fifteen years, during the time that I was away from the Church and engaging in all sorts of sinful activities. Many, many, many grave sins during that time.
I went back to confession on the spur of the moment, about six months after returning to regular mass attendance, and right around the time that I had a “reversion” experience in which I wasn’t just going through the motions.
Father was great. I confessed a few of the biggies, and I felt surprised that Father didn’t make a big deal out of hearing the horrible things I’d done. I hadn’t prepared ahead of time, and I think he sensed I wasn’t aware of what might or might not be a mortal sin, so he helped me by asking a couple questions. There wasn’t any “counseling” that I recall. But after he gave me absolution, there was a hearty “welcome home!” I’m smiling just thinking about it. He also encouraged me to make confession a regular habit, and to learn more about the faith, which I have (on both points).
The whole confession only took about five minutes. And I didn’t cry at all, which surprises me, now that I think about it.
If you haven’t been in a while, or ever if you’re a convert, I encourage you to just go. It’s not that big of a deal in what actually physically takes place in the confessional. You talk. The priest talks. He says a prayer.
But the unseen action of the sacrament, the effect on the soul, is often palpable.