It’s been over five years now since my workplace occupational health psychologist sat me down and gently named what I’d been dragging around for years: complex PTSD.
Since then, therapy has become a part of life's rhythm—a bit like doing the laundry, except instead of sorting socks, I sort emotions. Some weeks, the load is light, and others are like last week……’piled high and grimey’.
After my latest therapy session, I was utterly overwhelmed. My nervous system went into meltdown. My only response was to sleep it off. After sleeping I tried to ‘keep calm and carry on’, though my enthusiasm levels were somewhere between “meh” and “I think I’ll just hide under a blanket”
And then the old distress snuck in:
Will I ever sort all this out? Will I ever reach the finish line?
I’ve got so many things I want to achieve. I want to send my illustrations and ideas off to a publisher. I want to get fit and healthy. But one emotional wobble seemed to knock everything off course, even my healthy eating habits. The little voice in my head started whispering: Maybe I can’t do it. Maybe I’ll never get there.
To top it off, I’d fallen behind on promises I’d made, including writing this blog post! I’d told those of you who commented last week that I’d choose one of your contributions to illustrate. So, slightly begrudgingly (mostly because I’d made a promise), I sat down and scrolled through the comments.
And that’s when it caught my eye:
"Every post is a winning post."
It struck me. Because, of course, it’s true. I might not have reached the destination yet, but I’ve passed many posts along the way. And each one of them has been a win.
I started flipping through my old journals, revisiting the illustrations and captions I’d made during tough seasons:
The girl gazed out from the plateau and realised just how far she’d come.
Remember, when it’s tough, every step is a win.
The girl felt like giving up, but she remembered why she started.
And sitting there with my sketchbook in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other, something shifted. As plain as day I saw the progress I’d made.
I was reminded of a quote I recently came across:
"Remember how far you’ve come, not how far you have to go. You are not where you want to be, but neither are you where you used to be."
— Rick Warren
And it’s true, isn’t it? Even when we don’t feel like we’ve moved forward, we have. Maybe not at the speed of light, but forward all the same.
Since my diagnosis, I’ve improved my illustrating skills massively. I’ve found ways to use art not only to inspire myself but to encourage others, too. I’ve made slow, steady strides toward health — losing weight, becoming more flexible, and actually sticking to Pilates (which, for the record, is not easy with a core made of jelly).
No, I’m not “there” yet — wherever there is. But I’ve learned something important: the journey isn’t about sprinting to the end. It’s about noticing the markers you’ve already passed and giving yourself permission to rest at the ones you’re standing beside.
So, thank you, Jill, for reminding me that every post is a winning post. You inspired this week’s illustration and gave me the nudge I needed to lift my head up and look back—not in regret but in recognition of progress.
And if you’re reading this and feel stuck, lost, or worn out, I get it. Life can be tough. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is pause, breathe, and rest. But while you’re resting, glance over your shoulder and see just how far you’ve already come.
You’ve done more than you think. Let that stir some hope for the road ahead.