We’re not letting a bad day f*ck up our recovery.

We don’t owe anyone an apology for having a bad day. 

Some days you’ll get triggered. I do. 

Some days you’ll be particularly sensitive. I am. 

Some days you’ll convince yourself that you are absolute sh*t at what you do. I do this, too. 

What we need to remember about our trauma conditioning is that it will take advantage of anything it can to deepen our sense of unworthiness, of unlovability, of incompetence. 

This definitely includes bad days. 

Trauma Brain will grab on to a bad day, point to it, and say “SEE? I TOLD you you were absolute dog sh*t.” 

The truth is, we’re gonna have bad days— not because we’re “absolute dog sh*t,” per Trauma Brain, but because humans have bad days. 

I’m a pretty good therapist, I think. And I have some sh*t sessions. 

I’m a reasonably good writer, I think. And I write some pretty mid blogs and tweets. 

It happens. 

Here’s the thing: our trauma conditioning absolutely DELIGHTS in latching on to our not-so-stellar moments, performances, and days, and amplifying every negative thing we feel about ourselves. 

Then, Trauma Brain pulls another dirty trick: it actually gooses us into feeling shame FOR feeling shame. For feeling sh*tty about feeling sh*tty. 

That’s some next level shaming, there. Trauma Brain has mad skills at making us feel like garbage. 

(Trauma Brain out here with these mad make-us-feel-like-garbage skills, and some people think they’re going to handle Trauma Brain’s shenanigans without working their recovery? Couldn’t be me.) 

So we have a bad day; we feel bad about it; then we feel bad for feeling bad. All the while our nervous system is struggling to manage even one level of this sh*t show— with limited bandwidth from the get go, may I add, since trauma famously does a number on our basic emotional regulation. 

All of which is to say: feeling especially bad about a bad day isn’t a character flaw. It’s a trauma thing. 

What do we do about it? 

We remember that a bad day isn’t the end of recovery; it’s not in itself a sign that recovery is off track; and it’s not evidence that we lack skills, tools, or toughness. 

A bad day’s just a bad day. I’m writing this after a bad day. My own trauma conditioning is trying to convince me that I’m such a bad therapist that I don’t even have useful things to write about trauma, recovery, or life. 

We step back. We breathe, blink, and focus. We listen to something soothing or meaningful. 

We remind ourselves that this will smart less with the passage of time. 

We pet a cat. We remind ourselves of who we are and what we’re all about. 

We affirm that we are more than our least favorite moments as a human. 

We check in with our personal mission statement, and, if possible, we connect with people who share that mission. 

We drink some water. We move our body. We pay attention to our breathing. We get some sleep. 

And we wake up and recommit to our trauma recovery— the same way we do every morning. 

Because you know what? F*ck our abusers and bullies. 

It’s gonna take more than a bad day to pull me and you out of recovery.