I Didn't Want to Go Back

I’m going back to IOP.

And if I’m being honest? I don’t want to.

Not because I don’t think I need it. Not because I don’t think it could help. But because it means admitting… I’m not okay again. And that part hits different.

There’s something about walking back into a place that’s meant to help you that also feels like you failed a little. Like… shouldn’t I have this figured out by now? Shouldn’t I be further along?

But healing doesn’t work like that. And I hate that it doesn’t. Because I know the skills.

I know what I’m supposed to do. I can literally hear the coping strategies in my head sometimes… …and still not do them. That’s the frustrating part no one really explains. It’s not a lack of knowledge. It’s the gap between knowing and actually doing.

And right now?

That gap feels huge.

Going back to IOP feels like starting over… even though technically, I’m not. It feels like sitting in a room, being seen in ways I’m not always ready for. It feels like slowing down when part of me just wants to push through and pretend I’m fine.

But I’m not fine.

And maybe the strongest thing I can do right now is stop pretending that I am.

So yeah… I’m going back. Not because I failed. Not because I’m broken. But because I’m trying.

Even when I don’t feel like it. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Even when part of me wants to run the other direction.

This is what effort looks like for me right now. Messy. Reluctant. Honest.

And maybe that counts for more than I give it credit for.

~Tj🩷