Learning to Heal by Learning to Stay: What Recovery Taught Me About Trust
Category:Chiari Malformation,Creative Writing,Survivor,Trauma,WritingHealing through trauma.
Recovering from a major decompression brain surgery changed how I understand healing in ways I never anticipated. It wasn’t linear, and it certainly wasn’t gentle. My say-nothing nervous system was suddenly very loud. My sense of where my body was in space; something I’d never thought about before… became unreliable overnight. And it scared me to my core.
Medical care mattered. Time mattered. But what surprised me most was this:
how much my recovery depended on the way I spoke to myself.
I wasn’t trying to convince myself to feel better.
I was helping my nervous system settle, orient, and stabilize.
I wasn’t trying to reinvent myself or “think positively.” What I needed was to create a feeling of safety inside a nervous system that no longer trusted the world, or even my own body. That meant learning how to speak to myself with steadiness, patience, and presence, especially when things felt unpredictable or painful.
I started writing short phrases. Grounded, honest ones, and recording conversations in my own voice. I listened to them daily. Sometimes many times a day. The repetition wasn’t about encouragement. It was about familiarity. Over time, my nervous system began to recognize the tone, the cadence, the reassurance. It softened. Slowly. Quietly.
This became a daily practice, applied neuroplasticity in the most personal sense. Not something I did only on the hard days, but something I committed to consistently.
Because healing doesn’t respond to urgency. It responds to trust.
I find it striking how easily we dedicate hours to improving performance at work or refining skills for others, yet hesitate to invest that same focus in strengthening our own inner resilience. Recovery taught me that mental fortitude isn’t something you summon once. It’s something you train, gently and repeatedly.
I’m still learning what my new normal looks like. This journey is far from over. But one thing is clear: healing required a conscious decision to stay with myself through uncertainty, discomfort, and change—without pulling away, without rushing ahead.
That choice has shaped my recovery more than anything else.
