The Yo-Yo of Healing

I never was good with yo yo’s. Nothing has changed as an adult.

People tell you sobriety brings clarity. Peace. Stability. They talk about “good days” like they eventually line up neatly, one after another, forming a steady life you can trust. And sometimes that happens.

But sometimes healing feels more like a yo-yo.

One day I wake up clear-headed, grounded, almost hopeful. My prayers feel close. My body feels calm. I think, Maybe this is it. Maybe I’m finally turning a corner.

And then the next day hits.

Anxiety creeps in without explanation. Old thoughts return. My energy drops. The weight of everything feels heavier again, and I’m left wondering how I could feel so okay yesterday and so undone today.

It’s exhausting to live this way—always recalibrating, always bracing for the drop.

The hardest part isn’t the bad days themselves. It might actually be the good days. For they bring me hope. Hope that disappears too quickly and jolts me back to real life. I’d rather not have the good days than to continue to deal with the constant drastic emotional change from good to bad.

When a good day comes, it shines. When a bad day follows, it can feel like betrayal—by your body, your mind, even your faith.

I’ve caught myself asking, What am I doing wrong? Why isn’t this sticking?

Some days, my only victory is not quitting. Not numbing. Not turning away from the work just because it hurts. In a world obsessed with forward motion, staying still can be an act of courage.

The yo-yo doesn’t mean I’m failing.

It means I’m human. It means my body is relearning safety. It means I’m walking a real healing path, not a performative one. Steady growth is happening beneath the surface, even when the days don’t line up neatly.