The Reality of Recovery

     During my most recent bout of extremely high anxiety, my mom and I continued to discuss my mental health. A few of our conversations brought up my recovery from my Primarily Obsessional OCD. We both agree that I have made progress. Yet, sometimes I still am not doing as well as my mom and I both wish. I still have really bad days during which I am either hysterical, medicated, or sleeping with no moments of naturally occurring peace in sight.
     Sometimes, when I'm really struggling, my mom will say something like, "I can't wait until you don't have these thoughts anymore." She may also say something like, "There has to be a way to get better faster." I think the same things sometimes, especially on my bad days. It would be great to just suddenly not have my intrusive thoughts, and it would be great to change the way my brain functions more quickly. I have discovered that those are not realistic ideas or expectations.
     These ideas are pretty common in our society. I know when I went to my intake appointment these were my expectations, even though I studied psychology in college. I assumed the recovery process was going to be moderately quick and moderately painless. I assumed that recovery meant that I would no longer have intrusive thoughts, and that I would no longer experience symptoms of OCD or anxiety. I assumed therapy and medication could be this quick and magical cure.
     The reality of my recovery from OCD is that, according to my research, I could be in therapy for around 2 years, and even then my OCD won't be cured because OCD doesn't have a cure. I will probably always have anxiety symptoms and intrusive thoughts. The goal of treatment isn't even to eliminate intrusive thoughts but to change the way I react to them. The goal is to accept the thoughts and not to become anxiety-riddled, hysterical, and to not get sucked into ruminating on the thoughts. The goal is to treat intrusive thoughts the way I treat other random thoughts, like the non-OCD population does when they have the same thoughts. (Some days I can do that now. Other days I can't.)
     The reality of recovery from any chronic illness, like a mental health condition, is that symptoms may always be present, but managing the symptoms can become easier. There is no quick fix for something like anxiety disorders or depression or eating disorders or PTSD. Recovery takes time because it's actually hard work full of learning, homework, lifestyle changes, and changes to our very thought patterns that we have to intentionally implement. Medication can help if you choose medication as part of your treatment, but the reality of medication is that it is a trial and error process until you and your doctor find the one that works best for you. The process is completely worth it when you find something that enables you to function at your desired level, though.
     The reality of being recovered is that being recovered doesn't mean that I'll be done with therapy (or medication if you choose medication). I may need to go back to therapy throughout my life to maintain my recovery, just like any person dealing with a chronic physical illness continues doctor visits to maintain wellness. (Medication may always be part of maintaining wellness as well, and that is okay.) I may also still have some bad days after being considered recovered, but (hopefully) the way I manage the bad days will make them feel less severe so I can shake them off sooner. (Sometimes I'm in a place where the bad days can be shortened to a bad few hours or something like that, but not always.)
     The reality of my recovery looks a lot different from the ideas I had about recovery when I first had my intake appointment. I can't say that I wasn't disappointed by the reality check my therapist served up, but I can say that I am much better at working toward recovery because of that reality check. I have a better picture of what recovery from my mental health condition looks like, and I think that makes it easier to recognize progress. I also think the idea of recovery that I have now has done a lot to help me not be so hard on myself  during my journey toward wellness and recovery.
     I'll end with this: Recovery from any chronic condition, especially mental health conditions, takes a lot of time and effort, and the process looks different for everyone. Recovery may not look the way that you pictured in your mind in the beginning, but that's okay. You wouldn't expect someone with asthma to never have asthma symptoms just because they were being treated for their asthma, so you shouldn't expect yourself to never have symptoms of whatever mental health condition is part of your life.