Why I Kept Watching for Symptoms to Come Back — and Why That Didn’t Mean I Wasn’t Healing
Relief arrived, but vigilance stayed.
Things were better.
Sleep was steadier. Days felt more predictable. The constant intensity had eased.
And still, I watched.
I waited for the moment things would fall apart again.
Watching for symptoms didn’t mean I didn’t trust healing — it meant my nervous system hadn’t learned yet that improvement could last.
Why Vigilance Didn’t Turn Off Automatically
For a long time, attention mattered.
Noticing changes early had protected us.
My body learned that watching closely was part of staying safe.
Vigilance had been useful for too long to disappear overnight.
My system held on to habits that once made a real difference.
When Good Days Felt Temporary
A calm stretch would pass.
Instead of enjoying it, I waited for the shift.
Relief felt provisional.
This echoed what I described in why I didn’t heal in a straight line.
I trusted improvement, but not its durability.
Expectation of relapse can linger long after danger has passed.
Why Scanning Became a Form of Control
Watching gave me a sense of readiness.
If I caught something early, I could respond.
Letting go of scanning felt like giving up control.
Awareness felt safer than ease.
Monitoring wasn’t distrust — it was protection that hadn’t updated yet.
How Vigilance Quietly Sustained Tension
The more I watched, the more I noticed.
Neutral sensations felt loaded.
My system stayed slightly activated.
This connected closely to why I felt like I had to protect my progress.
Attention kept the alarm half-on.
Healing settled further once I stopped checking whether it was still there.
What Shifted When I Let Safety Prove Itself
I didn’t force myself to stop watching.
I noticed when watching faded on its own.
Uneventful days stacked quietly.
Nothing bad happened when I missed a check-in.
Trust rebuilt through repetition, not reassurance.
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