Healing and Recovery
Recovery (from a traumatic experience and a major medical event) can look different in every moment. (Though this can apply to all forms of recovery.)
Recovering and healing means giving yourself space.
Even if that means you’re different now, or even if it doesn’t make sense to others.
Recovery means healing mind, body, spirit, and emotion—none are exclusive of the other.
Recovery can look like giving yourself space to rest.
Space to heal.
Space to grow.
Space to reflect.
Recovery can look like making new boundaries for yourself.
Refreshing your environments for yourself.
Allowing yourself to eat, speak, laugh, and cry as you feel and need to.
Surrounding yourself with good energy and good people.
Recovery can mean sleeping extra.
Recovery can mean asking for help, even when you typically don’t know how.
It can mean staying up at night with anxiety, writing out words of affirmations to yourself to overcome the thoughts.
Recovery can mean crying to your partner about the stupid worries that creep up that might not even make sense.
Recovery can mean that your favorite TV shows now just remind you of real-life trauma and medical emergencies, and you just can’t watch them anymore.
Recovery can mean that scrolling on TikTok or social media is no longer “fun”, but just feels chaotic and messy and triggersome.
Recovery can mean that everything in your life changes.
Recovery can mean that you’re taking the extra time to heal your wounds, to heal your mind.
That every detail of your life currently revolves around giving to yourself, loving yourself in this new space.
Catering to your soul.
Filling your mind with peace.
Recovery can mean joy for being alive.
Recovery is relearning who you are—because that is forever changed.
Healing the mind, body, and spirit can look so different in every moment, no matter the cause or the root of the journey.
There is no right or wrong way to heal.
Give yourself space to be exactly where you’re at.
To listen to your needs.
To clear your mind.
To soothe your soul.
Healing is beautiful, even if every micro-moment doesn’t feel that way.
You’ll look back one day and appreciate the slowness of this time, this rest.
This time for planting soul-seeds for the garden of tomorrow.