Recovery

Burn Awareness Week Part 2

Recovery is such a roller-coaster ride. At first, I thought it meant reaching a point where I was completely healed, like I could just move on and leave everything behind. While healing is definitely part of the story, I’ve come to realize there’s so much more to it than simply being “over” what happened. Recovery isn’t a straight path—it’s messy, unpredictable, and often feels like you’re taking two steps forward and one step back. There are moments when you think you’ve finally got a handle on things, only to find yourself falling back into old patterns or needing to reset because things didn’t go as you planned. It’s painful, frustrating, and at times, it feels like it’ll never end. But as hard as it’s been, I wouldn’t change it. The winding, unpredictable journey has shaped me in ways I never could have imagined. Each setback taught me resilience, each twist in the road led me closer to understanding myself, and each time I had to reset, I came back stronger. The path may have been crazy, but it’s the only one that has brought me to a place of true healing and self-acceptance.

Why I needed to Recover:

This seems like a basic question, right? Why does anyone need to recover? But for me, the answer was anything but simple. I needed to recover—for myself, yes, but also for the people who cared about me. I was stuck in a toxic cycle, fighting myself every day, and loathing who I had become. The mental illness that developed, shaped by my environment, pushed me into a dark place where self-harm and negativity became my only companions. I was trapped in my own mind, unable to see beyond the pain. But recovery became my lifeline, a way to rebuild not just my mind, but my entire life. It was about finding my way back to a place where I could breathe again, rediscover who I was, and reconnect with the people who mattered. It was about learning to heal, not just for me, but for the ones who believed in me—even when I couldn’t believe in myself. The journey wasn’t easy, but it was necessary, because I had to reclaim my life, my peace, and my future.

Finding my People

One of the most important aspects of my recovery was finding my people. As a Grey's Anatomy fan, the quote "You are my person" always resonated with me. It's the idea of finding that person who understands you without needing an explanation, the ones who love you unconditionally, and those who stand by your side no matter what. Those are the kinds of people I found. In my recovery, I learned just how crucial it is to have a support system. As I’ve talked to people who’ve gone through recovery from drugs and alcohol, they all share the same truth: doing it alone is nearly impossible. You need your people. I’ve been lucky to have had the opportunity to attend camps since I was seven years old, where I met kids who had faced similar struggles—kids who had the same scars, emotional or physical, that I carried. For the first time, I realized I wasn’t completely alone in my experience. Still, those connections were fleeting, limited to once a year, and after that, we all went back to our separate lives. It wasn’t enough to feel like I had a true community. I always felt isolated, even among people who understood me. It wasn’t until my journey into recovery that I truly found the people who would become my constant support—those who would show up for me not just once a year, but every day. Those are the people who made recovery possible, who helped me rebuild and reminded me that I wasn’t alone anymore.

Then, I found WBC—the World Burn Congress. It’s a burn survivor conference held every other year (and every year when I was younger) that became a true turning point for me. To be honest, I signed up for the first one without telling my parents. I was under 18, so I needed them with me, but I was 16 and determined to attend a program in Indianapolis, Indiana—hours away from home. My mom received a call saying I’d been accepted for a scholarship, and in a panic, I nearly let the moment slip away. But thankfully, I caught her before she hung up the phone, and we were off to Indianapolis for our first conference. From that moment on, I haven’t missed one since. WBC was where I found people from all over the world who loved me for exactly who I am—people with scars, some smaller, some bigger, but all of us connected by the same experience. It was the first time I ever met others who truly understood the world I had been living in. For the first time, I didn’t feel isolated by my scars or the story I carried. It wasn’t just about surviving; it was about being accepted, loved, and supported by people who had walked their own difficult paths. This sense of belonging, of finally finding my people, was priceless. It wasn’t just a conference; it was a lifeline—a reminder that I wasn’t alone in my struggle and that healing was possible with a community like this by my side.

I finally took the time to reach out and find others—not just sitting back and hoping people would come to me, but truly putting myself out there. Anxiety, as it always does, tried to tell me that no one would want to be my friend, that I wasn’t worthy of having people who cared about me. It whispered all the doubts, made me question my value. But I pushed through it with everything I had, because deep down, I knew that life was not meant to be lived alone. I fought against those voices, because I realized that the connections I was seeking weren’t just about finding comfort—they were about discovering my worth and embracing the idea that I deserve love, support, and friendship. Looking back, I can’t imagine life without the people who have completely transformed my mindset and who I am. These friendships have changed me in ways I never thought possible, helping me see the value in myself that I struggled to find for so long. Now that I had found my people, the next step was to focus on myself—deeply, truly, and fully. It was time to go beyond just surviving and start the journey of self-discovery, to understand who I am at my core, and what I want from life. It was time to dive deeper into the person I had always been meant to become, shedding the layers of doubt and fear to finally embrace my truest self.

Finding Myself

Finding myself has been one of the hardest parts of this journey. It’s not just about healing—it’s about redefining who I am. What do I want people to think of when they think of "Kelsay"? Do I want them to see the girl who was burned, the one who’s constantly weighed down by depression, the one who hates her life? Or do I want them to see someone more than just her scars? Do I want them to think of a girl who hides her pain, who’s always struggling but never letting anyone see it? No. I don’t want to be a pity party or something people feel sorry for just because I’m alive. I’m not here for people to offer sympathy simply because I’ve survived. I AM ALIVE. That alone is a victory. I wasn’t supposed to make it through, and yet here I am—breathing, growing, learning. So why would I spend my life hiding inside a shell, living as if I’m dead on the inside? That’s not the life I want to live. It was time for me to take a deep breath, step out of the shadows, and seek out who I am beyond the pain, beyond the scars. It was time to finally break free from the past and discover the person I was always meant to be—strong, alive, and unapologetically me.

I decided to attend a retreat called Angel Faces, and it became a pivotal experience in my journey. Angel Faces helped me rediscover who I am, not just as someone who has endured physical pain, but as a woman who has navigated through deep emotional and mental struggles. Each retreat I attended revealed more about myself, peeling back layers I didn’t even know were there. It gave me the space to reflect, to process, and to heal in a way that felt both empowering and freeing. Truthfully, I’d love to attend another retreat soon, because I could use that refresh—sometimes we all need a reset, a reminder of who we’ve become and how far we’ve come. But more than anything, Angel Faces helped me dive deep into my soul, offering me the clarity I needed to understand what life is truly meant to be like. It taught me that recovery isn’t just about surviving, but about thriving, embracing the full spectrum of life’s experiences, and recognizing that I deserve happiness, peace, and self-love—just as I am. That retreat gave me the courage to envision a future where I’m more than just my past and my scars, but a whole, strong person ready to face whatever comes next.

Finding myself has been a challenging process—one that’s required me to face parts of my story I never wanted to touch. On top of the burns, I’ve endured so much more trauma throughout my life—experiences that have left scars, both seen and unseen. There have been sudden deaths that shook my world, friends who left without explanation, the deep pain of sexual assault, relentless bullying, and so much more. Each of these pieces of my story, though painful, have shaped who I am today.

I’ve come to understand that recovery is not a destination; it’s a long, never-ending process. It’s messy and unpredictable, and there’s no clear-cut path forward. But each step, no matter how difficult, brings me closer to healing. I’ve learned that healing isn’t about erasing the past, but about finding a way to live with it, to make peace with it, and to grow stronger because of it. The journey is ongoing, and while it’s far from easy, I’ve found that every step I take, no matter how small, is worth it. And even though recovery can feel endless at times, it’s also about accepting that I deserve to keep moving forward—toward a life where I’m not defined by my trauma, but by my strength to rise above it.

Still Seeking Recovery

I am constantly finding myself. It’s a journey that requires me to fight every single day for my life, to keep pushing forward and discovering who I truly am. Each year brings its own struggles, challenges, and changes that shape me in ways I could never predict. The person I am today is someone I never could have imagined just a few years ago.

If you had asked me in 2020 what life would look like right now, I would have never expected, nor could I have anticipated, the place I find myself in today. Back then, I couldn’t have seen how the twists and turns would lead me to this version of myself—the one who has endured, grown, and fought for her place in this world. Life is unpredictable, and the road to recovery isn’t a straight line. But in every unexpected moment, I’ve learned something new about myself, something that has helped me become stronger, more resilient, and more at peace with who I am. The journey is far from over, but I’m no longer afraid of what lies ahead.

Recovery happens over time, and in 2020, I endured surgeries that completely changed how my body looks. It was a process that took years—years of rediscovering not just my body, but how to love it again. I had to figure out what the “new normal” meant for me, and it wasn’t just about the physical changes; it was about adjusting mentally and emotionally to this version of myself. Physically, my body is still recovering. I still have open wounds that cause issues, and I deal with physical pain every day. I don’t know when that healing will be complete, but I trust that it will come—slowly, steadily, in its own time. Some days are harder than others, and there are moments when the pain feels overwhelming. But I’ve learned to be patient with myself, to honor my body for what it’s been through and for the resilience it continues to show. Mentally, though, I’ve started to love my body again. It’s not an easy shift, and it hasn’t happened overnight, but I’ve begun to see my body for more than just its scars and imperfections. I’ve come to understand that it’s a symbol of strength, survival, and healing. Loving my body again is about accepting all of it—the good, the bad, and the painful—and realizing that I am worthy of love, exactly as I am.

To all those who are still struggling with their recovery or constantly seeking it—there is hope! The rollercoaster ride of recovery can feel long, unpredictable, and at times unbearable. But I can tell you, it is worth the ride. Even if it’s just one thing you overcome at a time, you are still recovering. Every small victory, every step forward, no matter how small, is a reason to celebrate. And each celebration is a reminder to keep going, to keep pushing, because you are getting closer to the life you deserve.

For me, I’ve lost people in that “my people” group—people who meant so much to me, and their absence broke me in ways I never expected. But even in those moments of deep loss, I had to keep finding my people, keep connecting with more, because isolation is dangerous. I’ve felt myself get lost in the darkness at times, and as a result, all those negative thoughts start to creep in. There have been moments where I struggled with my life, but there have also been moments where I have loved it, where I’ve found joy and peace despite the pain. Recovery is never a one-way path. It’s winding, full of ups and downs, and sometimes, it feels like it takes two steps forward and one step back. But I can promise you this—it will always be worth fighting for. The journey might not be easy, and it might take longer than you want, but one day, it will all come together.

So don’t give up on whatever you are fighting for. Keep moving forward, even when it feels impossible. Because one day, the healing will come, and you’ll look back and realize that every battle, every tear, every struggle—it all led you to a place where you are stronger than you ever thought possible.