Why Moving Forward Feels Like Moving Backwards

Healing isn’t always linear.

I am in a phase of my journey where I’ve been questioning everything.

Am I really healing?

Is healing even possible?

Sometimes it feels like I take two steps forward and three steps back. Some days I’m amazed by the progress I’ve made. I feel proud of myself, energized, hopeful. Other days, I fall right back down, convinced I’ve failed again—that maybe this is all hopeless.

Lately, I’ve been feeling more anxious and overwhelmed. I’ve been isolating again and craving space and quiet.

But not for the same reasons I once did.

When I was in the depths of my healing journey—in the dark hole many call “the dark night of the soul”—I isolated because I was consumed by my shadows. It was a period of deep darkness. Heavy darkness.

The only way I can describe it is this feeling of complete consumption, like I had crawled directly into the center of my pain and it swallowed me whole.

During that period, I was shut down. Distant. Disconnected. Some may have called it depression.

But beneath it all, I was doing deep inner work. I was searching for myself—for the real me hidden beneath years of pain, conditioning, trauma, and survival.

I was trying to find the woman I buried so many years ago.

Since then, I feel like I’ve finally started crawling out of that darkness and into the light. I faced many of my shadows and made it through to the other side.

But once I got there, I found myself facing something unexpected.

I realized I had spent most of my life disconnected from myself—living in a constant state of dissociation.

As I started reconnecting with my body and emotions again, I wasn’t prepared for how intense it would feel.

I wasn’t prepared to realize just how much I had been blocking out.

Now I feel everything.

The anxiety around people.

The sadness of old memories resurfacing.

The fear of the unknown.

I never considered myself an anxious person until now. Suddenly everything started feeling overwhelming—too loud, too chaotic, too much.

And I realized something important:

Life didn’t suddenly become harder.

I just stopped numbing myself enough to ignore it.

Feeling is uncomfortable. No one wants to feel anxious or overwhelmed. At first, I thought, *What is wrong with me?* I thought healing was supposed to make me feel better—not worse.

But then it hit me…

I am healing.

Actually healing.

I am beginning to thaw.

I am reconnecting.

I am waking up.

This anxiety didn’t suddenly appear—it was always there. I just couldn’t feel it before.

The best way I can explain it is like getting an epidural during labor.

Imagine being in unimaginable pain—so much pain that your body starts panicking. You ask for the epidural, and slowly the pain begins to disappear until you feel almost nothing.

That’s what coping mechanisms can do.

Like an epidural numbs the body, we often use coping mechanisms to numb our emotions. But what we don’t realize is that the damage and stress are still happening underneath the numbness.

You may not consciously feel the pain anymore, but your body still does.

Your nervous system still does.

When you suppress emotions and stay in survival mode long enough, your body carries that stress. Elevated cortisol levels, chronic muscle tension, nervous system dysregulation, weakened immunity—the effects can be endless. Over time, chronic stress and unresolved trauma can contribute to serious physical illness.

Healing feels like removing the epidural.

You go from feeling nothing… to suddenly feeling everything.

And it is painful. Raw. Overwhelming.

But eventually, something begins to happen.

You start breathing through it.

You begin listening to your body instead of running from it.

You begin learning how to support yourself instead of numb yourself.

That’s where I am right now.

The epidural is out, and I am feeling it all—the real, raw truth of what has been living inside me for years.

Some days I still panic. Some days it still feels overwhelming as all the emotions come flooding in.

But I’m learning how to breathe again.

I’m listening to my body.

I’m learning to rest when I need rest.

I’m setting boundaries when things feel too heavy.

I’m learning how to take back control of my body… and my life.

And that is huge.

In the moment, it can feel like I’m going backwards.

But the truth is, I’ve taken massive leaps forward.

I am beginning to feel again.

I am beginning to reconnect.

I am beginning to truly live.

And if you can relate to this, I want you to know something:

You are not going backwards.

You are healing.

Even when it feels messy.

Even when it feels overwhelming.

Even when it hurts.

Keep doing the hard work.

You are setting yourself free. ❤️