I am so fucking tired of the healing journey.
Not the actual work of figuring your shit out. That part is real and it matters. I mean the aesthetic. The endless, monetised, algorithm-friendly performance of being a person who is always, perpetually, forever in the process of healing. Like the destination was removed from the map on purpose.
Which, honestly? It was. The whole industry runs on you never being okay. Coaches, courses, journal prompt subscriptions, retreats, frameworks for your frameworks. None of it has a finish line because a finish line would be bad for business. Staying broken, or at least staying in the language of brokenness, is the product.
And people buy it because it feels productive. It feels like self-respect. “I’m doing the work.” Great. Are you also eating food and sleeping and going outside? Because in my experience that is actually where most of the work happens, and none of it costs anything.
The stuff that genuinely helped me was not a course. It was sleep. Water. Sunlight. Moving my body in some direction. And having one friend who will tell me when I am being annoying, which is an underrated resource that no wellness brand will ever sell you because it does not scale.
That is mostly it. Boring, unglamorous, free.
The precious treatment of rest is what really gets me. People scheduling rest. Optimising rest. Writing in their rest journal about how they are learning to rest. Just… lie on the sofa. Watch something stupid. Eat the pizza. Have the drink. You don’t need to detox either, that’s what your liver does. You are allowed to be a normal animal for an evening.
The point is not that healing is fake or that therapy is pointless or that you should just vibe your way out of serious mental health stuff. Do the work. Go to the therapy. Feel the feelings. But do it like it has an end in sight, even a rough one. Do it because you want to get somewhere, and somewhere looks like an ordinary Tuesday where you are not thinking about your healing journey at all.
Let life be the healer sometimes. Touch some grass, literally. Stop performing recovery at yourself.
You are probably more okay than the algorithm needs you to believe.
← Back to the Journal