When Therapy Doesn’t ‘Cure’ You: Why It’s Not Your Fault
Why still struggling doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.
You ever sit there after a therapy session and think, ‘Why am I still like this?’
Like, you’ve done the work. You’ve shown up, talked through the hard stuff, maybe even tried journaling, mindfulness, or whatever tool your therapist swore would help. And yet, some days, it feels like nothing has really changed. Like you're still carrying the same weight, just with fancier coping mechanisms.
And worst of all? You’re expected to feel better just because you’re in therapy. People assume that if you have access to help, you should be fixed by now. That every session should chip away at the struggle until one day, you wake up completely healed.
But it doesn’t work like that.
And then comes the doubt.
“Maybe I’m not trying hard enough.”
“Maybe I’m doing therapy wrong.”
“Maybe I’m just too broken to be helped.”
But here’s the thing—therapy was never supposed to ‘cure’ you.
What Therapy Actually Does - And Why It’s Still Worth It
Therapy doesn’t erase your pain. It doesn’t rewrite the past or remove the scars. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you immune to bad days.
What it does do is give you a fighting chance.
It helps you understand why your brain reacts the way it does. Why certain words, places, or situations trigger a storm inside you. Why your nervous system stays on high alert even when nothing is wrong. Why you push people away when you want them close.
It teaches you to pause before reacting, to catch yourself in spirals, to separate your past from your present. It gives you tools—some of which work, some of which don’t. It gives you a space to say the things you’ve never said out loud.
And sometimes, it’s just a place where someone finally listens.
But let’s be real—therapy is exhausting.
There’s this idea that therapy should always make you feel better. Like every session should end with relief, clarity, or some big emotional breakthrough. But if you’ve ever sat in your car after therapy, staring at the steering wheel, completely drained and hollow—then you know that’s not always the case.
Sometimes, therapy rips you open. It forces you to look at things you’ve spent years avoiding. It makes you face yourself in ways that are deeply uncomfortable. Some weeks, it leaves you raw and shaken, wondering if it’s even worth it.
And that’s where the doubt creeps in again.
“Why do I still feel like this?”
“Why isn’t this getting easier?”
“Why am I still struggling if I’m doing everything I’m supposed to?”
The truth? Healing isn’t linear. It doesn’t move in a straight line, improving a little more each day until you magically reach some healed, enlightened version of yourself.
Some days, you’ll feel okay. Some days, you’ll feel worse than you did before you even started. That doesn’t mean therapy isn’t working. It means you’re doing deep work. It means you’re untangling things that have been buried inside you for years.
Therapy isn’t about “fixing” you. It’s about equipping you to live with what you’ve been through.
The Frustration of Complex PTSD, Anxiety & Depression
And yet, even knowing all of this—it’s still frustrating as hell.
Because complex PTSD doesn’t just go away. The things that happened to me—they don’t get erased. They shaped the way my brain learned to survive. They made me hyper-aware of danger, trained me to expect abandonment, wired me to assume the worst because, for a long time, the worst was all I knew.
Therapy has helped me untangle that. It has helped me recognize that not every raised voice is a threat, not every silence means rejection, not every setback is a confirmation that I’m destined to suffer.
But the damage? The imprints of trauma? They still show up.
I still have severe anxiety that makes my heart race over things that aren’t dangerous. I still have depression that whispers, “What’s the point?” even when I know better.
And I used to think that because these things still existed, I was failing. That because I wasn’t fully better, therapy wasn’t working.
But I’ve learned something: therapy isn’t about erasing the struggle—it’s about changing how you handle it.
A Moment That Made Me Question Everything
I remember one therapy session where I couldn’t even make it through.
We had started talking about something I thought I was ready to face—something from my past that still sat heavy in my chest. I was fine at first, but as I kept talking, the words started catching in my throat. My hands were shaking, my heart was pounding, and before I even realized what was happening, I shut down.
I couldn’t keep going. I just sat there, unable to breathe, eyes burning with tears, feeling like I was drowning in my own memories.
And the worst part? I left feeling like a failure.
I told myself I should have been able to push through. That if therapy was really helping, I wouldn’t be falling apart like this. That if I were stronger, I wouldn’t have broken down at all.
But looking back, I see it differently now. That wasn’t failure. That was proof of how much I’d been carrying. Proof that my body, my mind, my heart—had been holding in so much for so long that just speaking about it was overwhelming.
Therapy isn’t just about talking. It’s about facing yourself. And sometimes, that’s the hardest thing in the world.
But walking out of that session didn’t mean I had failed. It meant I had reached my limit that day. And that’s okay.
A Closing Note for You
If you’re feeling frustrated with your healing process, if therapy isn’t “working” the way you thought it would, if you’re still struggling even after doing everything you’re supposed to—please hear this:
You are not failing. You are healing. And healing isn’t a straight line.
You don’t have to be okay all the time to be making progress. Some days, progress is just getting through the day. Some days, progress is recognizing that you’re struggling but not hating yourself for it.
So if you need a reminder today: you are doing better than you think. And you don’t have to do this alone.
I’d love to hear from you—have you ever felt like therapy wasn’t working? How do you handle the frustration of still struggling? Let’s talk in the comments.
With love,
Salwa
If you ever find yourself needing something gentler to hold onto…
I’ve been slowly building a little space called the Quietly Becoming Toolbox. It’s a Notion-based collection of calming tools—simple reflections, grounding prompts, small things that help when the world feels heavy.
No pressure, no fixing. Just support, in the quiet way I know how.
You can take a look here
The monks taught this long ago: healing is not climbing a ladder. It is learning to sit beside your brokenness without flinching. Some days you will speak. Some days you will shake. Both are holy. Progress is not the absence of pain. It is the presence of compassion for the parts still in pain. Rest. Rise again. You are walking the path.
This is such a beautiful look at the inner workings of therapy, dear Salwa. Thank you so much for sharing.
Based on what I just learned from your very raw but real piece, to even 'show up' at therapy requires courage. So in my mind, to simply show is an achievement on its own that deserves to be celebrated as a win.
Your article also makes me think about a different level of this... maybe one day you'll write about it? It's this...
I originate from Africa/West Africa, and truth be told there are unthinkable levels and instances of trauma and dysfunction in our culture. Yet somehow we tend to place a stigma on therapy... You know, think of the need to attend it as a weakness, something to be ashamed about?
So we end up 'bequeathing' our trauma and dysfunction to subsequent generations... and worse end up normalizing it. I wonder why. Why do we put such a negative connotation to something that has the potential to help us... Just a thought 🤔.