Why Relief Felt Less Safe Than Struggle

Struggle had a rhythm.

I knew what to expect when things were hard.

Relief disrupted that predictability.

Hard was familiar. Better was uncertain.

My nervous system trusted what it recognized, not what felt new.

When Improvement Triggered Vigilance Instead of Calm

I started watching more closely.

Scanning for signs that things would slip back.

This constant monitoring mirrored the state I later described in why my kids’ symptoms never fully disappeared at home.

Feeling better didn’t turn vigilance off — it turned it up.

Relief felt risky because it hadn’t lasted before.

Why I Questioned Progress Instead of Trusting It

I told myself it was a fluke.

A coincidence. A temporary lull.

I had learned not to believe good days meant anything permanent.

I didn’t want hope to get ahead of reality.

Doubting improvement felt like self-protection, not pessimism.

How Pattern Helped Ease the Fear of Backsliding

What helped wasn’t optimism.

It was repetition.

Small improvements showing up again and again, without effort.

This echoed the gradual shifts I didn’t initially trust in why small steps felt meaningless.

Repetition creates safety where belief can’t.

Consistency mattered more than intensity.

What Changed When I Let Improvement Be Fragile

I stopped demanding permanence.

I let improvement exist without asking it to promise anything.

That’s when my nervous system finally softened.

Better didn’t have to be guaranteed to be real.

Allowing improvement to be imperfect made it feel safer.