Post-Crisis Coping Strategies: Learning to Heal With Intention

WebMD

5 days ago

After my most recent sickle cell crisis, I found myself grappling not only with physical recovery but also with the emotional and mental toll it left behind. In hindsight, I thought I fully recovered in a couple of weeks. Still, three months later, I only recognize that I have fully recovered.
While finding my rhythm, I asked myself: What does healthy coping look like after a crisis? And, honestly, I didn't have the answer right away.
In the early stages of recovery, my default coping mechanism was video games. Now, I enjoy playing video games without a crisis or recovery from a sickle cell crisis. However, during this period, I was playing these games excessively. They gave me an escape from the constant pain and fatigue. For a while, they helped. But soon, they became all I was doing – not just to manage pain but to avoid life. Even after the physical symptoms eased, I found myself still stuck in that virtual world, disconnected from everything else that made me who I am. And that's when I realized it wasn't just about how I was coping but about what I was neglecting.
Getting back to a healthy routine was hard. The structure I'd once built of therapy, regular gym sessions, and social engagement had quietly slipped away. Without it, I didn't feel like myself. It took a lot of honest conversations and encouragement from my support system to help me start putting the pieces back together. I know I'm not alone in this. Many others struggle to reconnect with themselves post-crisis, unsure how to begin again.
For me, the return to "normal" felt overwhelming. I was involved in my community, constantly giving of myself. So, when I stopped functioning at that level, it felt like I was letting people down. I retreated into gaming to silence those feelings and to silence myself. But silence isn't always healing. Sometimes it's avoidance.
This reflection, in part, is a form of accountability. I need to remind myself of what truly helps me heal, not just physically but mentally and emotionally. That includes:
One of the most complex parts was realizing I hadn't been honest, not even with myself. When people asked if I was OK, I defaulted to "I'm fine." But beneath the surface was a tangle of self-blame, doubt, and frustration that I hadn't fully processed. Things were happening emotionally that I didn't recognize until much later.
Recovery from a crisis isn't just about the body. It's also about reclaiming the mind. And sometimes, when you're too deep in it to be aware, it takes the people around you to reflect on yourself: your strengths, your purpose, your joy. As much as I understand the fundamentals of healthily dealing with crises, I still have periods of succumbing to them.
One important realization I had through therapy was that the problem wasn't gaming – it was the absence of boundaries. It wasn't the activity but how I let it consume the time and space meant for other parts of my healing.
So now, I'm trying to be more intentional. Structure has always helped me, and I've started writing things down again – something I'd let slip. Setting time limits for rest, work, and even play helps me maintain balance. Slowly, I'm rebuilding routines, understanding that progress isn't about speed but direction.
Some days, it's still hard. But I'm learning to give myself grace. Recovery doesn't follow a straight line, and coping isn't one-size-fits-all. What matters is that I keep learning, adapting, and growing. I do feel more hopeful about things and have improved my boundaries.
Right now, I'm in a better place. I feel more grounded. I'm reconnecting with my mentoring, my faith, and the relationships that give me joy. While I'm still on this journey, I'm deeply grateful for the awareness, support, and tools that are helping me move forward.