I thought healing and mental health recovery meant reaching a point where I would never struggle again.
When I first entered treatment, I thought I would leave a completely different person. Not just better, but also fixed and healed. I expected to feel whole in a way that I never had before. I imagined walking out of those hospital doors as an upgraded version of myself, someone who no longer struggled and had everything figured out.
I thought everything would feel lighter all at once, like the heaviness would just be gone one day, and I wouldn’t have to fight so hard just to feel like myself.
I didn’t expect healing to take time. I thought it was something that would just happen eventually.
I Thought Treatment Would Fix Me
I believed treatment would change me at my core, like it would turn me into a different version of myself.
But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
In treatment, they would say things like “you won’t leave fixed because there was nothing broken to begin with,” and for a long time, I hated hearing that. I did feel broken. I wanted something to fix me. I wanted there to be a clear solution.
I thought healing meant getting rid of every symptom. I wanted treatment and therapy to feel like a reset button, where I could walk in one way and walk out completely different. I thought if I worked hard enough, followed all the rules, and did everything right, I would eventually reach a point where I never struggled again.
When I first started realizing that recovery did not work that way, I felt a deep sense of disappointment. The finish line I had imagined no longer seemed to exist, and I kept coming back to the same question: “Then what is all of this for?”
What Recovery Actually Looked Like
I’m so grateful that recovery is so much more than being “fixed.”
Treatment didn’t turn me into a new person. If anything, it brought me back to the roots of who I’ve always been.
It helped me reconnect with the most authentic version of myself, the version of me who loves crafts, reading, anything pink, and laughing. The version of me that existed long before mental illness convinced me I was someone else.
Depression changed the way I viewed myself. It became difficult to recognize who I was under the weight of depression. So when things started to improve, it wasn’t about becoming a different person. It was about rediscovering the person I had always been.
That realization changed the way I thought about recovery.
But it also forced me to accept something I didn’t really want to accept.
Even after treatment, I was still going to have hard days. I was still going to feel overwhelmed sometimes. I would still experience disappointment, stress, grief, and uncertainty. Recovery did not make me immune to being human.
If I’m honest, that was a reality I hated for a long time.
Recovery Isn’t a Finish Line
Being in treatment didn’t mark the end of my recovery journey. If anything, it was the point where I began to understand how recovery actually works.
Through plenty of unmet expectations, I learned that recovery is not a destination you eventually reach. There is no single moment when everything is resolved, and you can confidently say, “I’m fully healed.”
Instead, mental health recovery is ongoing. It’s a process of learning, unlearning, and making the choice to care for yourself again and again. It evolves as you evolve, taking different shapes in different seasons of life.
The Pressure to Be “Fully Healed”
People often talk about my life in terms of “pre-treatment” and “post-treatment.” To be honest, I use that language too. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it; it helps make sense of a really important turning point in my life.
But sometimes, without even realizing it, that language can create pressure.
Pressure to be a different person now and have everything together. Pressure to prove that treatment “worked” by showing up as someone who no longer struggles with any symptoms of mental illness, even years into recovery.
Pressure to fit this idea of what a “fully healed” person is supposed to look like.
Even now, at 23 and a few years into recovery, I still feel that pressure sometimes.
Why “Fully Healed” Is a Myth
There are still moments when I catch myself thinking, “What is wrong with me? Shouldn’t I be past this by now?”
In these moments, I remind myself of this:
The idea of a “fully healed” person, the version of someone who never struggles, never has setbacks, never feels overwhelmed, is a myth.
It’s a standard no one can actually meet, regardless of whether they’ve experienced mental illness or not. And yet, so many of us (myself included) quietly measure ourselves against it.
The longer I chased the idea of being “fully healed,” the more discouraged I became. Every hard day felt like I was somehow getting recovery wrong. Instead of recognizing that struggle is part of being human, I treated every setback like evidence that there was still something wrong with me.
What Healing Actually Is
When hard moments come, I stop asking how I can avoid every difficult emotion and instead ask how I can experience these emotions without turning them into evidence that I am failing at recovery.
Healing isn’t about never feeling anxious, sad, overwhelmed, or discouraged again. It is about learning that those feelings can come and go without defining me, and trusting that I can still move forward when they do.
For me, letting go of the pressure to be “fully healed” has been one of the most freeing parts of my recovery. It allowed me to stop constantly evaluating myself and instead start accepting who I already am.
I’ve learned that some days will feel light and easy, while others still feel heavy. Growth and struggle can coexist at the same time.
If I spend my life chasing the destination of being “fully healed,” I miss so much along the way. I miss out on appreciating the version of me that is still growing, still figuring things out, and still showing up every day.
A Reminder If You’re Struggling
The truth is, I have never met someone who would describe themselves as fully healed. And I don’t think I ever will.
That doesn’t mean healing isn’t real, or that growth isn’t worth pursuing. I absolutely believe in working towards becoming the healthiest version of ourselves.
At the same time, being human means we are always evolving. We continue to change, learn, grow, and navigate new challenges throughout our lives.
And honestly, that’s what allows us to connect.
We don’t connect through perfection. We connect through honesty and shared experience.
So, if you’re reading this and you feel like you should be more “healed,” more put together, more “recovered” than where you are right now, I want you to hear this:
You are not behind, and you are not doing your recovery journey wrong.
You are not broken, and you don’t need fixing. You are allowed to be in the middle of your recovery and still be worthy of a full and meaningful life.
Healing isn’t linear. It happens slowly, imperfectly, and rarely in a straight line. Sometimes it even feels like you’re moving backwards before you move forward again. That doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human.
Instead of asking yourself, “Am I fully healed yet?”
Maybe the question can be:
“Am I showing myself kindness today?”
“Am I learning, even in small ways?”
“Am I allowing myself to be human?”
Because healing was never about becoming someone else. Healing is about coming home to yourself again and again and again.
If This Resonated With You
If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear from you. What has healing looked like in your own life? What does healing mean to you now? Let me know in the comments, or you can message me here.
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