Halfway through her sixth month of therapy, a client of mine sat down on our video call, looked at me with quiet exhaustion, and said, *I think I am worse than when I started*. I had been waiting for this moment with her. I had been waiting for it because, in twelve years of doing this work, I have come to recognize it as one of the most reliable signs that real change is happening.
I want to write this post for the person who is in that exact place right now. The person who started therapy with cautious hope, who felt some early relief, who is now sitting on a Tuesday afternoon convinced that the whole project is failing. If that is you, I want to say something gently and directly. You are not failing. You are almost certainly in the middle of the work — the part nobody warned you about.
Healing is not a line. It is not a graph that goes steadily upward. It is a spiral. It is a path that returns, again and again, to the same landscape, but at slightly different altitudes each time. The terrain looks familiar — and it is familiar. But the version of you who is walking through it has changed. The view, even when it looks the same, is different.
The reason regression happens in therapy is, paradoxically, that things are working. Here is what is actually going on, biologically and emotionally. When you begin trauma therapy, the protective layers that have been keeping you functional begin, slowly, to soften. The hyper-vigilance you have lived inside relaxes a few notches. The internal armor that has kept everything contained loosens. And as it loosens, the things you have been holding underneath start to surface.
This is supposed to happen. It is, in fact, the work. But it almost always feels, from the inside, like something is going wrong. Feelings you have not felt in years come back. Memories that have been quiet stir. Symptoms you thought you had managed return. The temptation, in this moment, is to conclude that therapy is making you worse and that you should stop. I want to ask you, very gently, not to.
What is actually happening is that material that has been frozen is starting to thaw. The thawing is not a comfortable process. It is necessary. The feelings that are emerging are not new wounds. They are old wounds finally coming into a temperature where they can begin to heal. The work, in this stage, is not to do more. It is to allow.
There are a few things that help in this stage. Let me share them.
The first is to name it. When you find yourself thinking you are going backwards, say out loud or write down, *I am in the part of the spiral that feels backwards*. Naming it does not make it less uncomfortable, but it does keep you from being tossed around by it. The naming creates a small distance between you and the experience.
The second is to slow down. Many of the people I work with respond to feeling worse by doing more. More journaling. More reading. More appointments. More self-improvement. This rarely helps. What helps in this stage is rest. More sleep. More walks. More slow mornings with tea and no agenda. The nervous system is doing significant integration work. It needs energy to do it. The work cannot happen if you are still on full performance mode.
The third is to stay in contact with your therapist. This is the moment that some clients quietly disappear. They do not cancel. They just do not book the next session. Often, it is because they are embarrassed to admit they feel worse, or they have started to wonder whether therapy is helping. Please tell your therapist what you are experiencing. The honest naming of feeling backwards is one of the most productive conversations the two of you can have. It is often the conversation that opens the next layer.
The fourth is to remember the spiral. Look back, honestly, at where you were three months ago. Six months ago. A year ago. Almost always, my clients can identify changes that were unimaginable when they started. The very fact that you have enough internal stability to recognize what you are feeling now is itself a piece of growth that was not available to you before.
I see this pattern reliably with clients across Wisconsin and Colorado. Adults in Madison, Waunakee, Denver, and many smaller communities — people who, six months in, decide that virtual therapy in Wisconsin or telehealth therapy in Colorado must not be working for them, when in fact they are simply in the most difficult and important part of the work.
If you are in that valley right now, please stay. The view from the other side is worth every Tuesday afternoon that felt like going backwards. I promise you, with everything I have learned from years of doing this work, you are not going backwards. You are just going through.
If any of this resonates, I want you to know that what you are feeling makes complete sense — and that things can genuinely change. I offer virtual EMDR and trauma therapy for adults across Wisconsin and Colorado, including Madison and Waunakee. If you are ready to take the first step, I would love to connect. You can schedule a free consultation directly at https://alchemy-practice.clientsecure.me/ — no pressure, no obligation, just a quiet conversation to see if working together feels like a fit.