Healing after decades of abuse is not a straight line — it’s a roller coaster.
Not the cute, gentle kind at a fairground.
The big one.
The one with the climb so high your stomach flips, and the drop so steep it steals your breath.
Some days are incredible — the climb.
You feel powerful, hopeful, alive again. You recognize parts of yourself you thought were lost forever. You laugh, you breathe deeply, you look around and think, “I’m finally coming back to life.”
These are the days when your nervous system is regulated, your brain chemistry is aligned, and your inner world is opening again.
But then there are the other days — the drop.
The kind that hits you out of nowhere.
A memory, a tone of voice, a moment of silence, something small — and suddenly you’re plunging down the steepest part, feeling fear, doubt, exhaustion, or confusion.
This isn’t “going backwards.”
It’s your nervous system trying to relearn safety after years of danger.
The Neuroscience Behind the Roller Coaster
Chronic abuse trains the brain to survive, not to thrive.
Your amygdala, the part of the brain responsible for detecting threat, becomes hyper-reactive. It has spent years on high alert.
Meanwhile, the prefrontal cortex — the part that reasons, calms, and evaluates — was pushed into the background during trauma because survival took priority.
So now, as you heal, your brain is running both systems at once:
- The old wiring that remembers danger
- And the new wiring that’s slowly learning peace
This creates emotional ups and downs.
Not because you’re unstable, but because your brain is recalibrating.
The Climb: The Good Days
These are the days when you feel the sun on your face again:
- You laugh without forcing it
- You feel safe in your own skin
- You trust your intuition
- You make plans, dream a little, breathe a little deeper
These are the days your nervous system recognizes calm.
Your brain releases dopamine and oxytocin — the “hope and connection” chemicals.
You feel lifted.
Alive.
Your true self emerging again.
The Drop: The Hard Days
Then come the moments that feel like plunging down the track:
- Sudden sadness
- Fear without a clear reason
- Feeling overwhelmed
- Wanting to retreat
- Needing quiet, warmth, and safety
This is not regression — this is recovery.
Your body is processing decades of stored stress.
Your brain is rewiring itself.
Every drop is part of the journey.
Psychology calls this integration.
Your mind is trying to fit new safety into old wounds.
The Plateau: When You Finally Reach a Comfortable Level
And then — slowly, quietly — the roller coaster begins to level out.
Not by skipping the hard moments, but by reducing their intensity.
You notice:
- The drops don’t feel as deep
- The climbs feel more accessible
- Your reactions soften
- Your fears calm faster
- Your body feels lighter
- Your life feels steadier
This is what emotional regulation looks like after trauma.
Not a flat, perfect line — but a manageable rhythm.
You begin to live more in the middle zone:
stable, grounded, peaceful, present.
You still feel, but you aren’t knocked down by every emotion.
You still remember, but the memories no longer control you.
You still react, but you recover quickly.
You still have ups and downs, but the ride no longer terrifies you.
This is the point where healing becomes not just survival, but transformation.
