Sometimes our problems can seem like they are just too complicated to sort out or that maybe because our manilla file folder is exceptionally thick, we might just be stuck or deemed to live in toxic cycles forever until we die.
I was a cornucopia of all things unhealthy and adverse, with a past much more cringe-worthy than anything whimsical.
But I am doing it, and by doing it I mean I am doing it with fear, anxiety, depression, and with the after-effects of traumatic experiences and social stigmas.
I am happy. I am healthy. I am sober. I still struggle.
Am I doing it perfectly? Nope.
Am I always consistent? Maybe; possibly. Okay, sometimes more often than not.
Does having boundaries and living as intentionally as I can mean that I am doing it better than other people or the way I am doing it is the right way? No fucking way.
What it means to be in recovery is different for everyone.
I am doing it the right way FOR ME.
Isn’t that the point?
Our job is to make sure other people understand they can do it too. Our job is to finally show the world that we don’t look different. You can’t spot us in a crowded room; that we aren’t less than or less anything.
It’s important to spread the word and this message that everyone is worthy of having a healthy life. Everyone. That means all humans.
In the eleven years and some change that I have been on my recovery journey that is what I have observed. Recovery is all about trying things on. Unbecoming what we weren’t or who we thought we were supposed to be. Becoming more of what matches our soul and our identity and our purpose. That’s all recovery is. It’s all it should be.
It’s what we’re here for and we aren’t excluded because we have mental health disorders, or any other struggles or hills, or ridiculously massive mountains to climb.
We can live well.
I can, you can, (hell, even my mom’s life has turned around because of consistent mental health monitoring and care). If you know anything about my life or my childhood, that is a MIRACLE. BUT IT HAPPENS and it’s glorious and it’s REAL.
We have to love ourselves enough to seek counseling or therapy.
To try medication or vitamin regimens.
We have to walk through the doors of meetings whether they are SMART, Celebrate Recovery, AA, NA, Al-Anon, GriefShare, or other group involved meetings.
We need to read, or rest, or write. ?
We can paint, or tag, or draw.
We can walk, exercise, fish, go to concerts, host dinner parties, or do sober freaking pub crawls if that is what it takes to create for ourselves a healthy, balanced life. We just have to care for our souls and our bodies and our minds.
I just want to encourage someone out there who might need some encouragement. If things aren’t working now, that’s okay. It doesn’t mean they never will. Don’t be afraid to try something new, to add, or edit your personal recovery regimen. I firmly believe that my recovery from drugs and alcohol has been just as much of a mental-wellness journey as it has been a spiritual one. This narrative fits my beliefs as a backer and advocate of holistic recovery. Basically, to say I back holistic healing means that I do not believe that there is any one thing to ‘cure’ or ‘fix’ addiction or any other mental health disorder. Rather, I have decided that for me, as complex as I would have been had I been a manilla folder on some social worker’s desk, there is no one thing that could have helped me rebuild my life. My recovery has been about psychological, physical, emotional, and spiritual transformation, care, and upkeep.
I am a survivor of childhood trauma.
This includes witnessing drug-abuse and domestic violence, experiencing neglect, verbal abuse, and sexual abuse, divorce, and the death of an immedite family member before I was ten.
I have tried over and over again to self-medicate anxiety, severe depression, and an inability and lack of desire to let people into my heart and life, by isolating and numbing.
I pushed away feelings of despair, emptiness, anger, and replaced them with complacency and disinterest in the name of wanting to die but desperately needing to be seen. I accepted realities that I thought I deserved, including years of domestic violence.
I don’t always feel like I am thriving, killing each day that comes my way. I don’t always feel like I fit. There are times when I question if I could be doing better or learning even more, or giving back in other ways. but I know who I am apart from the pain of my past and separate from my diagnoses. I sit here today talking to the internet, sober, happy, healthy. I am not speaking as a survivor, but someone who has learned how to overcome adversity. I am not simply scraping by, tirelessly trying to find my footing.
There is a difference between thriving and surviving, and living my life in recovery versus living a life enslaved by my pain, shame, or mental health disorders.
Recovery isn’t linear. Mine doesn’t look like yours. That’s okay. Healing is not a one and done kind of thing. There are no gimmicks, mantras, retreats, crystal rocks, or exercise routines that can replace inner transformation. Inner transformation doesn’t cancel out everyday struggles, and everyday struggles aren’t indicative of failure.
I guess what I am trying to say is that May is mental-health awareness month.
I tried to think of the best way to help contribute or to make a ripple and I realized something.
I have.
I am.
I will continue to.
I encourage you to keep doing the same.
Creating a different, more accurate picture of mental health matters-
it matters for the people too weary and fearful to reach out, who are stuck in shame and secrecy.
It matters to children who feel ashamed of where they come from or who their care givers are.
It matters to the people like me, who are living abundant, transformed lives in recovery.