If Healing is Not Linear, then What is It?
The healing process is often described as not being “linear.” But what does that even mean?
Some say it is comprised of its ups and downs like the making of a roller coaster. Picture yourself, one moment at a trough, heavy and teary eyed, then the next you are at a peak, light and laughing. At least, that is what I picture when I hear that analogy. And internally, I reject it. “Oh beware!” They’ll warn. “Grieving, healing, and moving on will take you on a journey. Just let it happen.” And they make you promise you heard them. They add in the statement, “it’ll get better before you know it!” But little do they know, when we as humans are in the process of grieving or trying to heal, those are the last words we want to hear.
When we are in the process of grieving, we long for lineality. We crave consistency and dependability from ourselves and those around us. We become volatile. We just want to wake up and be happy the next day, the day after, and the day after that. We want the pain to go away, simply put. Our bodies are not made for feeling ghosts of the past, or for seeing them too. If there was a straight line of healing, I would say sign me up in a heartbeat. But unfortunately there is an inevitability and a truth to the healing process’s structure. And that is, if you are comparing the process to a tangible figure, one that is not linear. No, it may not be literal zig zags of one day on and one day off. No, it may not consist of peak waves and then sand storms. No, you do not become manic if you are in the process of healing or taken over with grief.
Yet, it is of the utmost truth that healing is not linear. But instead of comparing it to a line drawn for our eyes to see, I want to use the word “linear” in a comparative context. For each of us, healing looks different, meaning it does not solely exist in one dimension, or one right way, or one best way. It doesn’t follow a clean, predictable, measurable sketch. It gets to look however you want and need it to. It gets to be your own creation. It is just for you.
My first experience with overwhelming grief came following the death of my childhood dog, Ginger. I remember how it felt the day of her death, the day after, the week after, and then it gets blurry from there. At points, looking back a year or so later, I think about how I have healed from that experience. My grief did not look like my brothers nor my parents. Sure, we cried together and talked about her to keep her memory alive. But it was by myself that I felt I healed the most, mending my own broken heart. It was without comparison to their healing that I let myself grieve without judgment, nor guilt, nor questions creeping in. Healing only came after I looked inward.
There is no step by step process for healing. No guideline. This is something we often forget when we are consistently told that “healing is not linear.” It is in this “piece of advice” that leaves space for unwanted questions, not solace nor solution. All we are left wondering, then, is what is healing?
In my opinion, the process of healing cannot look a certain way. Healing simply is, and it is different within all of us. It takes its toll and its time. It leaves its own impression on our foundations and changes us. Yet it has the capability to never wear the same mask twice. It, instead, falls into us: into who we have become in the face of grief. It invites us in to feel. It invites us to be one with the present. To let ourselves be free to be broken down, to be tired, and to be consumed. It is a process in which you alone get to explore. And maybe for you healing looks like gratitude. Or podcast binging. Or ice cream with friends. Or saying permanent goodbyes to graves and photographs. Maybe for you, it means to continue: waking up, carrying on, choosing to keep going in the same manner as before. For some of us, it is okay to pretend, and for others, it is preferred to feel everything all at once.
Recently, I have been told that carrying grief often feels like carrying a backpack full of rocks…another analogy, but bare with me. I was also told that healing is not defined by the act of taking this backpack off, placing it down, and walking away from it. Healing is instead the act of becoming strong enough to carry it without notice. And one day, if you feel an extra rock back there whose weight presses down into your shoulders and tests the focus of your mind. It may feel heavy. It may feel uncomfortable. But extra weight takes time and practice to become steady, all the while you take time and practice to become stronger. And it is so true that with each rock, we stand taller; broadening our shoulders and stacking our spines to carry the backpack again tomorrow whether it be heavier or lighter.
So while healing is said so often to not be linear, with a change of definition on the key word, it becomes less of a warning for the impending journey ahead and more so an invitation to heal in your own way. At your own pace. In your own shape. On your own timeline, bearing a finish line or not. With your own key phrases you say to yourself in the mirror.
To keep us questioning, especially on the topic of healing. I extend to you the question of, how will you choose to heal from moments in the past, present, and future? And how will you continue to grow within it? These are our living questions for today.