A lot of the time when we consume the content of people who publicise their journeys to recovery, we’re under the impression they’re “healed.” We believe they have everything together, life flows effortlessly for them and that their circumstances are perfect… but would you be surprised if I said that’s far from the truth?
As a content creator who documents bits and pieces of their recovery, I can tell you firsthand that most of us only share what we want being seen. We’ll post on the days we feel good; sharing vlogs of ourselves at the beach enjoying the sun or grabbing brunch at the new vegan restaurant that just opened up. But do you know what we WON’T upload? The bad days. Why? Because it “ruins” the aesthetic.
Nobody wants to hear about the meltdown we had over something trivial or the episode that was triggered by plans going south. 9 times out of 10, influencer or not, a person is likely to be shamed for venting on media; crying on camera as opposed to journaling or talking to a trusted friend.
However because I know this is a common thing among “recovery influencers” (I assume they’re categorised as), I personally share and talk about the “ugly” parts of recovering. Why? Because it’s easier said than done and everybody’s journey looks different. I want to provide a more authentic perspective and not the “everything is perfect” that’s constantly being fed.
Because the truth of the matter is even though I’m nearly 2 years into recovery and I rarely have bad days, not every day is good for me. There are days where I’m depressed, hurting, lonely and more. I have days where I’m not good to myself or others but that doesn’t take away from all I’ve achieved. The goal is progression, not perfection.
And if it’s the ugly parts of healing they won’t tell you about, it’s the part where you feel like you’re regressing. They won’t tell you about the stages of anger and grief you oscillate between or the periods of isolation you experience trying to better yourself. They don’t tell you about the people you lose as a result of seeking better or the pervasive loneliness that follows when having to be selective about your associates.
Healing looks different for everyone and there’s going to be “ugliness” to it, but that’s okay because it should be normalised. I’m currently experiencing one of the ugliest parts of healing because despite being eager to create a loving and nurturing relationship with others, I feel myself growing emotionally reserved every day. It hurts but I’m doing my best to remain open. It’s difficult for me as someone still overcoming hyper independence and avoidant tendencies, but I know it can be done.
Even with the feelings of loneliness, depression and anxiety weighing heavy in my chest, I’m going to do my best to remain kind in my interactions. I’m quite frankly exhausted from everything but I’m dedicated to my recovery so I’ll bare the exhaustion as long as necessary.
