If you flip a coin 4 times, and the first three come up heads, there is a built in human bias to assume that the next flip will be tails. Even though the coin has no memory of previous throws, the human mind still assigns a bias to the series as a whole. Similarly, withdrawal symptoms create their own momentum. The timeline of withdrawal is much longer than a short series of coin flips, but the principle can still apply.
For many people, withdrawal occurs in windows and waves. It oscillates between times when symptoms are lighter and times when they are more severe. Since the mind always seeks to find or create patterns in what it experiences, it’s natural to try to anticipate the next cycle, and predict what it will be like. This can be good and bad. In the middle of a wave, it gives the mind something to look forward to. Instead of being mired in a wave, the mind can anticipate the symptoms improving. Likewise, a window can be seen as an opportunity to consolidate gains and take stock of overall progress towards recovery.
The relief that you get from lighter symptoms can be squandered by anticipating the next wave, though. In many ways, it’s a one sided bias. There is fear of slipping into a wave during windows, but no anticipation of a new window during a wave. There is an emotional weight associated with each stage. It’s like our perception of a coin flip instead of the actual binary nature of the flip. While you’re in a wave, that negative feeling gains a sense of permanence that it shouldn’t. Even though waves inevitably give way to windows, except in the case of a chronic conditions (withdrawal is usually episodic, not chronic), there’s no anticipation, just suffering in the moment. That fear persists into the next window, coloring our interpretation of the window. Instead of recognizing it as an improvement, it’s seen as a brief respite or interlude before the next wave.
One of the big mental tasks in making progress during withdrawal is to separate waves and windows. Instead of viewing them as two sides of the same coin, inevitable partners, they should be viewed in the larger context of recovery. The window/wave pattern is a sign that the brain is recovering. Once the symptoms begin to break up, the waves should get shorter/milder and the windows should get longer/better. Waves and windows should also be viewed in isolation from each other, like a coin flip. Feeling better is not the cause of the next wave, just as feeling bad is not the cause of the next window. Those cycles are signs of deeper restructuring taking place in the brain. There are things that you can do to mitigate waves and extend windows. Mindfulness can help. Being aware of the cycle between waves and windows can mitigate the bad, and extend the good. It’s important not to obsess about your emotional state, but be cognizant of the ebb and flow of emotions. At the same time, waves and windows need to be dealt with individually. You can’t always be looking forward to the next change. At first glance, a window seems like an easy thing to deal with. You’re feeling better! Normal! What’s to do? Actually, windows are opportunities to take stock.
Windows represent your progress towards normalcy during withdrawal. It’s very hard to compare your mid window state with “normal”, though. We all live in a relative mental state. It’s very hard to step outside yourself and compare the way you are now with the way you’ll be after recovery. It is possible to perceive changes from one window to another, though. Keeping a journal can help quantify your well being during a window. It’s human nature to avoid dwelling on negative emotions when we’re feeling good, so it takes a bit of discipline to go back to your journal during a window. Many people post on withdrawal sites until they start to feel better, then only come back when they experience a wave. Just like a course of antibiotics, it’s important to keep the mindfulness momentum going during a window, even if you feel better.
Dealing with waves is a defensive thing. Being mindful that the symptoms of a wave are not a normal part of your mental makeup is a good strategy. In normal thought, we only consciously perceive a small portion of what happens in the depths of our minds. Our cultural and mental makeup parses most thoughts, and they don’t become conscious thoughts. Anger, fear, anxiety, even psychosis, are all parts of everyday thought. We only see the small part that our conscious mind actively thinks about, though. Psychotic, angry, and fearful thoughts are normally not part of our daily interactions, so we don’t give them much “processor time” in our active minds. We present the side of our minds that we want to the outside world. In a wave, the normal checks and balances are suppressed. Instead of automatically suppressing thoughts we don’t want, the mind presents everything all at once. It’s important to actively take over the parsing role until that automatic system has a chance to re establish itself.
So, in a strange way, waves and windows should be seen in the larger context of overall recovery and also viewed as binary things (heads or tails). It’s not easy to take the long view of withdrawal while still dealing with each individually. One of the symptoms of withdrawal that makes it particularly hard is the suppression of cognition. We simply don’t think as quickly or deeply as we normally would. It creates a vulnerability to the symptoms that makes the waves more powerful and the windows less satisfying. Even if you fail to have much of an effect on the cycles in the beginning, that effort will pay dividends over time. It’s hard to keep trying through multiple “failures”, but you’re building a mental reserve that will eventually have an effect on the whole process of recovery.