Recovery Stories
The Never-ending Vacation (excerpt)
Not so long ago, my life was structured by chaos and sheltered by fear. This is why I currently awaken with a sense of displacement. What is this? I wonder. Where are the thoughts of not wanting to be here, of hating my life, myself? Where is the fear of having to face another day? Where is the re-experiencing of a gazillion little irritations and traumas to my tattered self-esteem; the treadmill of belabored pain? Where is the continual anxiety around the possibility of having to endure more failure and pain; from staring long and hard directly into the face of hopelessness and despair?
One miserable day no different than any other in years of miserable days, I decided to take an extended vacation from my illness. This was a hard earned vacation. Though mental health issues had swamped my being with helplessness for years, only recently had I begun to accept that I did indeed experience the list of labels bestowed upon me at a distant time: Major Depression, General Anxiety Disorder, Post-traumatic Stress Disorder, and others.
This morning upon waking, after that momentary sense of displacement, I gazed at the ceiling and reviewed my calendar for the day. What will I work on within myself today? Are there specific opportunities for self-work today? What did I do well yesterday? What do I not feel good about? What areas still need to be brought to light and reprocessed? To what or who am I grateful? Then that displaced side of myself that still identifies with my illness says, “ This is so weird,” but in a little tiny voice.
Since beginning my recovery journey, where my former self was filled with a sense of futility and fear, I am now filled with a sense of accomplishment, possibility, and value. I go about life’s mundane details with joy and deliberateness. I give myself reasonable amounts of time to get my work done. I continue to process and to get peer-support. I give peer support and gain insight into my own weak areas from doing so. Self-care and self-nurture are a huge part of my process; through very specific and consistent self-care I work to optimize my health so that treatment and its side-effects are minimized and bearable.
Yet I continue to have so many residual habits that do not support my recovery. I am not perfect. Life remains chaotic in some areas where it doesn’t need to be. But I now know that I can dramatically affect positive change in my life and both my mental and physical health. There are behaviors and beliefs I will undoubtedly still trip myself up on that I don’t yet recognize but am confident that I will. I keep working and growing and will continue on this vacation for the rest of my life.
I will never be “recovered” but that is fine, as long as I remain on this journey; this vacation. I like my recovering self more than I ever thought it possible to like myself. I feel that I have rebuilt my world because of the foundation provided by my recovery process. I love it. I breathe it. I live it. I love myself.
Currently, I am tacking through the harbor of what has been a very satisfactory rest stop out, once again, to the open sea. It was a nice place to recapitulate and to begin to fit into my new skin, but it is time to go. Issues are gnawing under the surface, demanding attention. The winds are not as strong as in the beginning. Recovery creates its own momentum. It is a dimension with its own natural time-frame and order.
I scan the sea and sky. Though the weather of recovery is never clear, I know I can catch myself when those inevitable illness storms blow. That niggling, healthy life-force within will set my course, and I will move forward no matter what direction I take. On this Sea of Hope most any direction points toward recovery.
All I had to do to start my journey was to realize that I may be a person who has a diagnosis, but I can prevent the diagnosis from having me. Not as easy as it sounds, it took many decades for me to get there. But my illness really, truly no longer has me. This is my never-ending vacation - my evolution toward mental wellness.
Recovery is not the exclusive territory of an elite category of human beings with significant issues around mental health. (Not everyone gets to be so special.) I’ve come to appreciate that all the best stories are recovery stories. Whether about the beginning of the universe or the adventures of Hercules, they all embody recovery, though some may be disguised as related concepts like “overcoming”, “transforming”, “transcending”, and “rehabilitation”. Recovery is the thread that runs through all lives and cultures. Recovery is a culture in itself; a culture of which I am proud to be a part.
