The Art of Not Making it Worse

We don’t talk enough about the quiet victories in recovery.

Victories that don’t look or even feel like winning in the moment — but keep you from losing.

Sometimes, progress isn’t about feeling better.

It’s about not making things worse.

It’s about holding steady in the middle of the storm — even when every part of you wants to throw yourself overboard.

Distress tolerance skills are exactly that: the art of survival in moments when fixing the problem isn’t possible, or the energy to fix it just isn’t there. They’re the pause button between “this feels unbearable” and “I’m going to do something I regret.”

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Why We Resist These Skills

Distress tolerance isn’t glamorous.

It doesn’t offer the rush of immediate change.

And for many people — especially those used to chaos or urgency — just “getting through” feels like doing nothing.

But surviving without making the problem bigger is not nothing. It’s strategy.

It’s tolerating what might feel intolerable long enough to protect the bigger picture of your life.

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When Not to Rely on Them Forever

While distress tolerance is crucial, living in that space forever can keep you stuck.

If all you do is tolerate, you don’t build the skills to solve, to heal, to move forward.

These skills are a bridge on your journey  — not a home. 

Not a place to stay long term.

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A Story from the Therapy Room

I once worked with someone who told me, “If I’m not actively fixing it, I feel useless.”

She had survived years of chaos by doing — by taking action, by forcing resolution.

So when I suggested a distress tolerance skill like self-soothing or paced breathing, it felt pointless to her.

But the first time she rode out a wave of emotion without sending a string of destructive texts or self-harming, something clicked.

It wasn’t about solving the problem in that moment.

It was about not adding new wounds while the old ones were still bleeding.

And eventually, because she learned to pause — to stop, take stock, and observe what was happening inside and around her (shout out to the STOP skill) — she was able to move beyond just surviving. We shifted into problem-solving, and that’s when everything began to change. Her relationships improved dramatically, not because she tolerated forever, but because she used distress tolerance as a stepping stone toward making new choices.

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The Reframe

Distress tolerance isn’t weakness.

It’s a refusal to make choices your future self will have to clean up.

But it’s not where we stop.

Distress tolerance is the beginning — the start of protecting healing, not the end of it.

It’s a place to catch your breath, not the place you’re meant to live.

So the next time you ride out a wave without making it worse, notice that quiet victory. It matters. And then ask yourself: what’s the next step beyond survival?