The Truth About Healing: It’s Messy, It’s Real, and It’s Worth It

Let me tell you a secret—healing isn’t some magical, glitter-filled montage set to inspirational music. It’s not journaling once and suddenly manifesting your dream life. Healing is raw. It’s ugly crying. It’s soul-crushing truth. And it’s also the most powerful thing you’ll ever do for yourself.

When my life fell apart, it wasn’t when I found out my ex had cheated on me with a colleague—although let’s be real, that would be enough for most people to spiral into a full-blown meltdown. It hurt, yes. But at the time, I clung to one thing that still made sense: my career. I was a police officer. That was my purpose, my identity, my everything. I thought, “As long as I have this, I’ll be okay.”

But then, I lost that too.

I got removed from a course I had worked my entire career to get onto. The message was loud and clear: You’re damaged goods. And that? That shattered me. That was the moment I broke.

Identity Crisis, Party of One

Being a cop wasn’t just a job—it was who I was. I wore it like a second skin. It brought me meaning, structure, a sense of pride. When that was stripped away, I didn’t know who I was anymore.

What came next? Oh, just your typical “soul-crushing existential breakdown on your parents’ couch in your 30s” phase. You know, standard stuff. I left my home, my marriage, my dog—basically, my entire life of the last six years. I was heartbroken and hollow, curled up on a couch that was not a bed by any means!

And then came the nightmares. The night sweats. The flashbacks. The constant, relentless anxiety. Panic attacks that knocked me off my feet. Depression that settled into my bones. And yeah… I even thought about ending it all.

Let’s Talk About That Darkness

I want to be real here. Suicidal thoughts don’t come from wanting to die. They come from wanting the pain to stop. And in that space, the only thing that kept me tethered to this earth were my animals, my family, and one very good friend. That lifeline—no matter how small—is everything.

Then one morning, I decided. I’m going to fix this. I didn’t know how. I just knew I couldn’t run anymore. I couldn’t keep numbing out, disassociating, pretending I was fine. I had to feel it. All of it.

The Hardest Work You’ll Ever Do (But Also the Most Worthwhile)

Let me tell you something: true healing doesn’t look like what you see on Instagram. It’s not pretty. It’s not polished. It’s not five minutes of meditation and a green smoothie.

It’s sitting in the pain.
It’s facing yourself—the wounded parts, the shadow self, the stuff you’ve buried so deep you forgot it was even there.
It’s letting go of versions of yourself that no longer serve you.

Being in the police force broke me in ways I didn’t even see until I stepped away. I had disconnected from everything—family, friends, myself. The uniform was my armour, but it also became my cage.

The Mask We Wear

I wore a mask for so long. “I’m fine,” I’d say. “Totally fine.” Meanwhile, I was falling apart inside. I was terrified people would see through it—see the brokenness, the sadness, the truth.

So if you’re in that space right now, if you’re reading this and thinking, Yep, that’s me, I want you to know: you’re not alone. Healing isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s why most people avoid it. It’s why so many “healers” are actually really good performers. Because facing yourself? That’s the real work. And it’s not glamorous.

Let It Out (All of It)

True healing asks you to cry. A lot. To scream. To shake. To write it out, speak it out, feel it in your body.

I started practicing somatic work—finding where the pain lives in my body and giving it space to exist. I used breathwork. I sat in nature with no phone, no distraction. I cried so hard some mornings I wondered if I’d run out of tears. (Spoiler alert: you don’t. You’re like an emotional fountain.)

And slowly, bit by bit, the heaviness started to lift.

Here’s the Truth…

You can’t fake your way to healing.
You can’t bypass your way to peace.
You can’t suppress and expect it to disappear.

Your body remembers. Your nervous system remembers. Everything you’ve ever tried to bury is still there, waiting to be seen, felt, and released.

Read “The Body Keeps the Score.”
Find a trauma-informed somatic practitioner.
Scream. Cry. Journal. Move. Dance. Rage. Breathe.

Do whatever your body is asking you to do.

Healing Isn’t Linear—It’s a Freakin’ Rollercoaster

There are still hard days. But now, I have tools. I can ground myself. I can sit with my emotions instead of running from them. I’m not afraid of the dark anymore—because I’ve sat in it. I’ve learned to listen to it. And I’ve found my way back to the light.

I’m no longer hiding behind an identity. I’m no longer pretending to be okay. I’m no longer scared of letting go of what once made me feel safe.

And now, I’m here—evolving, flowing, and ready for the next version of me.

If you’re ready too, just know this: it’s going to be messy. But you’ve survived the worst already. Now it’s time to come home to yourself.

💡 Key Information and Facts:

Trauma and the Nervous System
When we experience trauma, the body shifts into survival mode (fight, flight, freeze, or fawn). This impacts the autonomic nervous system and can stay "stuck" long after the threat is gone. As Bessel van der Kolk explains in The Body Keeps the Score, trauma isn't just a psychological issue—it deeply affects the body. He notes:

"Being traumatized means continuing to organize your life as if the trauma were still going on—unchanged and immutable—as every new encounter or event is contaminated by the past."
— Bessel van der Kolk
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The Stigma of Mental Health in First Responder Professions
Many first responders are conditioned to "tough it out," leading to suppressed emotions and untreated PTSD. A 2018 study by Beyond Blue found that police and emergency service workers in Australia are more than twice as likely to experience high levels of psychological distress compared to the general population.
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Signs of Suppressed Trauma or Burnout:
Subtle signs people ignore-

Emotional numbness

Chronic fatigue

Loss of purpose or identity

Hypervigilance

Disconnection from loved ones

Trouble sleeping or relaxing


Somatic Healing and Breathwork

Somatic healing: Involves bringing awareness to the body to process stuck emotions and trauma. The body holds memory, and healing often needs to go through the body, not just the mind.

Breathwork: A science-backed way to regulate the nervous system. Certain techniques (like deep diaphragmatic breathing) can calm the vagus nerve and shift the body into parasympathetic "rest and digest" mode.

Healing is Nonlinear
Healing is not a straight upward climb—it's full of setbacks, plateaus, breakthroughs, and returns to old patterns. Use this analogy: "Healing is like peeling an onion—each layer gets you closer to the core, but it might make you cry first."

The Impact of Identity Loss
Psychological concept: “Role engulfment” happens when a person’s identity becomes overly tied to one role (e.g., police officer, parent). When that role is lost, people often experience a deep existential crisis.
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Crisis as a Catalyst
Jungian psychology refers to “the dark night of the soul” as a necessary phase of transformation. Falling apart often precedes deep spiritual awakening or alignment. Carl Jung stated:

"There is no coming to consciousness without pain. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious."
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Post-Traumatic Growth (PTG)
Post-Traumatic Growth is the positive psychological change that some individuals experience after a life crisis or traumatic event. It doesn't deny deep distress but suggests that adversity can yield changes in understanding oneself, others, and the world.
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