I have not wanted to acknowledge that it has been a decade since my last bipolar episode. It seems like tempting fate to celebrate and bring attention to the fact that it has been a decade. But perhaps a wiser part of me feels like I don’t want to always live like I am being chased by my illness, fearing if I get settled in my recovery, that an episode will strike. Even though I don’t have full control over my mental illness, it is safe to say with the tools I have gained, with the support around me, and the medications that I take, that if I had another mental health episode, it will likely not be as bad as the last one. This is hope but also sound reasoning. I have tools. I have resources. Part of me that is afraid can rest knowing that I am doing everything I know how for my recovery.
Staying quiet about successes and only talking about the pain feels like the opposite of hope. But in my celebration, I don’t want to minimize the pain of the journey. I also want to emphasize the fact that it is not a failure if anyone is struggling to finding mental health stability.
The truth is I have been close to episodes in these ten years. Recovery has not been easy at times. I have had to make incredibly hard decisions because I knew that I was too close to my edge.
Reflecting on my recovery journey over the course of my life, a lot of the time I was moving quite blindly through my illness and recovery. A phrase comes to mind: hands grasping for wellness but eyes not seeing the path. And I was motivated by a hustle factor: I must make up for the fact that I have a mental illness. I felt I needed to be kinder, work harder, and always be “good.” And this didn’t allow for me to be a whole person, to allow myself to have boundaries and to live more authentically. I would fail to be perfect but I’d be devastated by these failures. This hustling came from my own shame as I tried to present on the outside that I was strong, capable, and succeeding despite my mental illness.
In my present recovery, I am in growing many aspects of my life from a new authentic and open way. There are lots of ways that “I don’t live up” to society’s expectations and yet I am becoming more authentically myself and am committed to my recovery in my own terms. I am carving out my own values and following what feels good.
Through writing and speaking more about my mental illness, I am healing deep part sof myself. It is incredibly vulnerable. But people judge whether you are yourself in the world or not. How do we live with this? Sometimes we just want to be like everyone else and we try fitting in. Sometimes we find people who feel like home, and who accept us. Sometimes we just step into our identity and face the judgement, the risks that accompany contributing our true voice.
You can see in the world right now, it can be very dangerous to be different, to stand up for yourself, your community, and the planet. And yet people find courage to do it everyday to contribute to a more compassionate world.
Since my last post, my article has been published by OC87 Recovery Diaries (find it under Essays at OC87recoverydiaries.com). In it I explore my last episode and what happened in my psychosis. This article has been broadcasted throughout the internet and is attached to my name. It is vulnerable to identify with something highly stigmatized and misunderstood. And yet it has also allowed for a deep release in me. It’s okay to own the hardest parts of my experience. And I am part of a large community on OC87 Recovery Diaries where there is incredible courage in sharing. I am totally blown away by what people will share of their trauma, of their experiences and of their illness and/or their substance use. It has helped challenge my internalized stigma, pushing myself to understand more compassionately other people’s struggles, even when it feels scary or uncomfortable.
The picture of the tree above reminds me that we often feel like a tree alone in the world with our differences, but if you get some perspective, you realize that you are part of a forest where their are other people who have similar experiences as you. This community is represented in the trees on the back left part of the photo.
So a decade of recovery has taught me….
Instead of hustling, try to find a life that is authentic and supports your personal and unique mental health recovery.
Work with your own shame and stigma. The more self-compassion you can be and the more authentic you are, the greater the chance of a positive response from other people.
We don’t have “control” of our illness. However, we can find tools that support our healing. The more consistently you are with your wellness habits and healing practices, the more likely recovery is possible. I truly believe this. The trick is finding the right tools and this takes support and exploration.
Find relationships where you feel supported and seen. It’s not about the number of friends, it’s the quality of the connection.
It is important to have hobbies, work, or family roles that you feel passionate about, that you enjoy. What gets you up in the morning? Even on hard mornings, I know that there are things I can do that will make me feel better, even just a little bit.
It’s okay to say “no,” have preferences and boundaries and to realize when you need to step back from something. Just because you have a mental illness, doesn’t mean you have to live pleasing people. You have a right to be a whole person just like anyone else.
And, most important, think of your own recovery wisdom, as what works for another person may not feel true for you. 💙
I have started my first art journal. I was given a large rectangle black blank page drawing book. I made my postage stamp art from last week and made a page of them. This week I am working on a mixed media piece, but it is not finished. I invite you to start an art journal if that feels like it would be a fun and meaningful part of your healing journey. Here is another postage stamp art piece. Simple and fun.
Therapeutic art making keeps me fluid in my creativity and life. Difficult things happen but I keep going on the page and with each art piece I make. That is perhaps the important part of recovery: it doesn’t have to be perfect. Instead you just need to show up and explore.
Keep getting drawn into life and what you love. Rest when you need it and pace yourself. Instead of pushing, know when you need to replenish. In this last decade, there were time my inner light felt very dim from enormous stress but I listened to that, made the hard choices, grieved the pain, and keep reaching for things that felt good and were healing.
Wherever you are on your recovery journey, celebrate in your successes, keep your recovery compass pointing at what you know keeps you well and, most important, let the love of self-compassion in 💙Meegan
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You write so well, dear Meegan. Your honesty and openness are remarkable. You provide loving support and understanding and compassion to yourself and others. Thank you, thank you.
With love,
Evelyn
Hi Evelyn, Thank you for your kind words and continued support. I so appreciate it and you ❤️