We often think of recovery as something linear. Step-by-step. Measurable. A clear path forward. And yet, so many of the people I’ve worked with over the years have found themselves saying:
“Why does it feel like I’m getting worse?”
“Why am I crying more now than I ever did before?”
“I’m eating again, but I still feel so anxious all the time.”
If you’ve ever asked these questions—please know you’re not alone. And even more importantly: this does not mean you’re failing.
In fact, it might mean that you’re healing.
🌱 The Messy Middle Is Still Movement
When someone begins recovering from an eating disorder, we often see early progress in concrete areas: eating more consistently, interrupting behaviors, attending appointments, or gaining weight if needed. But as physical healing begins, emotional work rises to the surface. The feelings that the eating disorder numbed or controlled for so long? Now they’re here—and they’re loud.
This part of the journey can feel terrifying and discouraging. It’s when recovery stops being about numbers, and starts being about the heart. About identity. About unmet needs, painful memories, relational patterns, and long-held beliefs about worth and safety.
So no, it’s not a straight line. It’s more like a spiral—you may circle back to familiar struggles, but you’re doing so from a new vantage point each time.
🧠 Why It Can Feel Worse Before It Feels Better
Here’s what I want you to know:
Progress in recovery often looks like discomfort.
- It looks like feeling more instead of less.
- It looks like crying over a meal that used to feel “safe” because you’re finally challenging the rules.
- It looks like setting a boundary and then panicking over whether it was “too much.”
- It looks like wanting to go back to the disorder because it was predictable—even if it was destructive.
These moments aren’t signs that you’re off track. They’re signs that you’re walking away from something that felt familiar, and toward something that is truly healing.
💡 Redefining What “Progress” Looks Like
If we only define progress as “feeling good,” we’ll miss the truth of what recovery really is. Here are some alternative ways to measure movement:
- You name your feelings—even when they’re uncomfortable.
- You reach out for support instead of isolating.
- You tolerate the urge to use behaviors without acting on them.
- You eat the thing that scares you and survive the anxiety that follows.
- You start to wonder who you are without the eating disorder.
These moments might not feel triumphant—but they are sacred. They are the heart of the work.
💬 What I Tell My Clients
When you say, “I feel like I’m going backwards,” I’ll often say:
“No—you’re just deeper in the work now.”
When you say, “I thought I was stronger than this,” I’ll say:
“You are. Strong enough to feel what you used to avoid.”
And when you say, “It doesn’t feel like I’m healing,” I’ll remind you:
“Sometimes healing looks like breaking—because the shell you lived in is no longer big enough for who you’re becoming.”
🙏 Be Gentle With Yourself
You’re not doing recovery wrong. You’re just in a part of it that doesn’t come with tidy milestones or applause. But you’re still moving. You’re still showing up. And that matters more than you know.
If this season of recovery feels heavy, I hope you’ll remember:
You are allowed to be tired. You are allowed to struggle. And you are still moving forward.
Because healing doesn’t always feel like progress. But it is.