The Truth About Recovery That Nobody Talks About.

If you’re in the depths of benzo withdrawal, it probably feels like healing is an active battle, one you have to fight every single day. It might feel like every moment has to be filled with effort, hyper-vigilance, and checking for progress. And if you’re not actively working on recovery or doing something to “fix” yourself, you might fear falling behind.

But here’s the truth that nobody really talks about: Healing is happening in the background, even when you’re not paying attention.

Even on the days when you feel like you’re getting worse.Even when you’re too exhausted to “work” on recovery. Even when symptoms flare and it feels like all progress is lost. Your brain and nervous system are constantly repairing, rewiring, and recalibrating. And the best part? They don’t need your permission to do it.

Why Healing Feels Invisible (But It’s Always Happening)

One of the biggest misconceptions about benzo withdrawal is that you have to actively force your recovery forward—as if it won’t happen unless you’re constantly engaged with it. And while dedicated work toward recovery is important, one doesn't "force" anything. The human body doesn’t work like that. We cannot force a broken leg to heal in a way that aligns with our mental deadline.

Think about how a cut heals. You don’t have to sit there and think, Okay, skin, time to regenerate! Blood vessels, repair yourselves! The body knows what to do. Healing is an automatic process—one that operates beneath the surface, whether you focus on it or not. Your brain and nervous system are no different. Neuroplasticity doesn’t stop when you’re resting. Your brain is rewiring even when you’re not consciously thinking about it. Every moment you’re alive, your neurons are adapting, adjusting, and slowly reshaping themselves. Your nervous system recalibrates while you sleep. The deepest healing happens when you’re resting, not when you’re anxiously scanning for signs of progress!

The reality is that healing often feels like nothing at all.

Unlike taking a pill and feeling an instant effect, withdrawal recovery happens on a microscopic level. You may not feel it happening, but that doesn’t mean it’s not working. One of the cruelest tricks of withdrawal is that healing doesn’t feel like healing—it feels like chaos. It's completely counter-intuitive. Symptoms fluctuate. Old symptoms return. New symptoms appear out of nowhere. You feel better one day, then worse the next.

Progress feels nonexistent, or worse, like you’re going backward.

But here’s the thing. This is what healing looks like. Recovery isn’t linear. It’s not a steady climb upward. It’s a storm, a rollercoaster, a messy, unpredictable process. I remember in my own recovery, I went through a brutal wave of symptoms right before I started turning a real corner. It made me doubt everything. I thought I was permanently damaged. But looking back, I realize it was just my nervous system reorganizing itself. It wasn’t a setback—it was part of the process. The North Star of healing isn’t found in tracking daily symptoms. It’s found in learning to trust that the process is unfolding, even when you can’t see it.

Question: What Happens When You Stop Chasing Healing?

Here’s a radical idea. What if you stopped obsessively monitoring your progress? What if you stopped searching for proof that you’re healing? What if you just… let go?

The truth is that healing thrives in the absence of pressure.

When you stop checking for progress every second, something incredible happens, you start living again. Your nervous system relaxes. The fear-based hyper-vigilance softens. You experience glimpses of normalcy, even while symptoms persist. This doesn’t mean giving up on healing. It means trusting that healing doesn’t need your constant supervision. Think about the last time you were deeply engaged in something you enjoyed—a book, a movie, a conversation, a creative project. For that brief time, you weren’t scanning your body. You weren’t stuck in fearful analysis.

And guess what? Healing was still happening.

This isn’t just wishful thinking—science backs it up. Neuroplasticity occurs in response to both active effort and passive experience (Doidge, 2007). This means your brain is rewiring even when you’re not thinking about recovery. The parasympathetic nervous system (rest-and-digest mode) activates best when you are engaged in life, not obsessing over symptoms (Porges, 2011). This is why people often feel temporary relief when they’re distracted or enjoying something.

Studies on chronic illness show that symptom hypervigilance worsens the perception of symptoms, even when physical healing is occurring (Craske et al., 2014). The more we focus on symptoms, the more the brain amplifies them. The takeaway? Healing is happening, whether you focus on it or not. So why not relax a little. Right now. I know your jaw is clenched, your shoulders and neck are tight. Take a deep breath. Exhale, and release the tension. Your clenching doesn't make you heal any faster. Quite the opposite. You now have persmission to trust in the process.

So how do you start trusting in background healing?

Step 1. Loosen Your Grip on Recovery

If you’re treating healing like a job, take a step back. Outside of your daily checklist, which in reality you can look at as good mental health hygiene, it's all about good mental, physical, and spiritual health. There need be no additional pressure, at least not psychologically. Recovery isn’t about sheer force—it’s about allowing. It's an ebb and flow between lulling and pushing, but even in our pushing, we move gently and with purpose, as if we’re practicing yoga. So be gentle. Loosen your grip. Reduce obsessive symptom tracking. Stop testing yourself constantly (“Am I better yet?”). Learn to shift from fixing mode to living mode.

Step 2. Engage in Meaningful Activities

Healing is most powerful when you’re doing things that remind you of life beyond withdrawal. Read books that inspire you. Create—write, paint, play music. Get into nature. Walk barefoot in the grass. Talk to people who make you feel grounded. Try and find some humor in life again, even if you have to go searching for it, or find yourself faking it till you make it. Every moment you spend engaged in life is a moment your nervous system is healing in the background.

Step 3. Reframe Symptoms as Signs of Progress

When symptoms flare, your first thought might be, “OMG! I’m getting worse!” But what if you reframed that? A wave of symptoms doesn’t mean you’re going backward—it means your nervous system is adapting and recalibrating. Recovery is filled with symptom flare-ups before major improvements. I hope you know that. Your brain is disassembling old pathways and building new ones—this is messy, but it’s progress. Symptoms are a sign of progress. Say that out loud for me.

Step 4. Trust That Healing Is Bigger Than You

This is where faith comes into play. Not blind faith, but trust in your body’s intelligence. The same force that heals broken bones, digests food, and breathes for you without needing your conscious thought is the same intelligence at work healing your nervous system. Healing doesn’t demand your constant attention and oversight. In the words of Dr. Leary, trust your nervous system.

Healing isn’t something you need to chase. It unfolds in the background—quietly, invisibly, and constantly, even if you don’t feel it. Even if today is difficult. Even if you believe you’re getting worse. Every moment you exist, your body works to restore balance. So today, I invite you to relax your grip. Allow healing to occur without micromanagement. Step back from the constant monitoring. And most importantly—start living again, even in small ways. Put on your favorite clothes, makeup, and fragrance. Reach out to that friend you haven't spoken to in a while. Maybe throw on a comedy film tonight when you're trying to find some distraction. Bottom line. Healing is happening.

You don’t have to force it. You just need to let it.

Until next time, my friends, keep going ~