There’s this quiet expectation that after enough therapy, enough self-awareness, and enough “doing the work” that something clicks.
Like one day you wake up and think, “Ah. There it is. I’m healed now.”
Wouldn’t that be nice?
The truth of the matter, however, is you can spend years healing and still have days, weeks, even, where you feel completely stuck.
And it’s not the feeling of being a little off or even slightly triggered about something. I’m talking about that heavy, foggy, what-is-even-happening-right-now kind of stuck. And when it hits, more often out of the blue. It can really be confusing as hell.
Because you have done the work. You’ve become a pro at spotting your triggers, your patterns, even your attachment style. And you’ve had breakthroughs. Real, hard-earned ones.
So when you suddenly find yourself right back in that old headspace, where you are shut down, overwhelmed, or disconnected, it doesn’t just feel bad. It actually feels like an epic failure.
Like you’ve somehow become a stranger in your own head.
The Lie: “I Should Be Past This By Now”
That thought? It’s a liar.
We are conditioned to think of healing like a mountain climb: you sweat, you struggle, and eventually, you reach the summit where the air is clear and the work is over.
But the reality is healing is more like a spiral.
Or honestly? It reminds me of the childhood board game Snakes and Ladders.
You hit a ladder, and you’re flying. Progress. Momentum. You feel like you’re finally getting somewhere.
Then out of nowhere. You land on a snake. And suddenly it’s a long, fast slide back down to a place you swear you already left behind. You’re staring at the board thinking, “I was just up there. How am I back here?”
What is important to remember though, in Snakes and Ladders, even if you slide down, you don’t go back to “Start.” You are still in the game. You still carry every move you’ve made before. All the knowledge and awareness. The tools. The understanding.
None of that disappears just because you hit a rough patch.
A Different Kind of “Winning”
That slide?
It’s a temporary moment. Not a permanent address.
And the instinct is to climb back up as fast as possible. To fix it. Solve it and get back to where you were.
But in doing that? It usually just makes it worse. Because now you’re not just stuck, but you’re frustrated at yourself for being stuck.
What I’ve been learning (and I mean actively learning, not perfectly executing) is this: Sometimes the win isn’t climbing. It’s landing.
It’s being able to say, “Okay… I’m on a snake right now. This sucks. It’s dark. I’m sliding.”
But just by naming it, something actually shifts. You’re no longer in freefall, and that feeling that you are failing in your healing is flipped on its head. You become more aware of actually being in it, present, and not abandoning yourself in the process.
And Then There’s This Question
Lately, there’s been another layer to all of this for me. Something I didn’t expect.
After years of focusing on healing, I’ve started asking, “What’s my purpose now?”
Because when so much of your life has been about surviving, coping, and figuring yourself out, it takes up a lot of space. And when that intensity starts to ease, even a little, it can leave behind this strange gap.
Not emptiness in a hopeless way. More like standing still and realizing, “I don’t actually know what direction I’m supposed to go next.”
And that can feel like being stuck in a whole new way. Not just emotionally. But existentially.
So If You’re Here Too…
If you’re stuck… sliding… questioning everything… including your purpose… welcome to the club.
Remember this important fact. You are not broken. And you’re definitely not back at the beginning.
You’re still in the game. Still holding the dice. Still moving, even if it doesn’t feel like it. And maybe, just maybe, this part isn’t about getting somewhere faster. Maybe it’s about learning how to stay with yourself… even here.
And if today is one of those days where you feel stuck and don’t know why?
A Small Shift That Changes Everything
Instead of asking, “Why am I like this again?” Try asking, “Since I am currently like this… what does this version of me need right now?”
It’s a small shift. But it changes the tone completely.
Because now you’re not judging yourself. You’re instead responding to yourself. And sometimes, the answer isn’t deep or profound. Sometimes it’s a simple nap. A glass of water. A walk. Or just permission to be “unproductive” at healing for a few hours.
That doesn’t mean you’re failing the process.
It means you’re humanizing it.
And if today is one of those days where you feel stuck and don’t know why?
That counts too.
Photo by VD Photography on Unsplash