Recently, I attended a mental health support group and one of the topics was recovery – not necessarily recovery from alcohol or drugs, but the mental health journey.
I’ve been working on recovery for about five years, and it’s never easy. Everyone has a different definition, but for me it means doing everything I can to stay mentally healthy and following a health plan (if I have one). For me, that means taking my medication, going to therapy, practicing self-care, avoiding the unhealthy behaviors that caused my mental “breakdown,” eating healthy, and getting enough sleep or not sleeping too much.
Writing this doesn’t seem like a big deal, but sometimes I feel like I’m hitting red flags. If I neglect to do the things on my list, I can experience symptoms of depression, an increase in unhealthy behaviors, and mood swings. Taking the wrong medication or neglecting my self-care can lead to suicidal thoughts, which can be terrifying for me and my family.
I once thought that six weeks in a psychiatric hospital and a few electroconvulsive therapy sessions would be enough. I’m sure my family and friends thought the same. To be honest, I had never heard the term “recovery” in relation to mental health until I started volunteering with NAMI Greater Corpus Christi. Naming my journey helped me understand that healing and recovery are linear. Setbacks will happen and bad days will be had.
And that’s exactly what we discussed in support group that night. I brought it up after telling a silly story about how I’d taken a photo with my family at my child’s awards ceremony, and then when I got home and saw the photo, I was so embarrassed. I looked fat and ugly, and I was embarrassed that so many of my friends saw me that way. After seeing the photo (which, in retrospect, wasn’t that bad), I took off my clothes and tossed them in the donation pile in my closet. I showered and restyled my hair. I got on the scale to see if I’d gained weight.
My body dysmorphia and anxiety, which led to a severe eating disorder, controlled me. Logically, I know I’m not fat, ugly, or gross. And I know that. But looking at those pictures also triggered my depression and anxiety. I cried even more ugly after the shower and avoided looking in the mirror that day. Now you can see why my therapist’s wallet is getting fat.
Even now, 1,825 days after being released from the hospital, I know this can happen, and my support group, although we were all at different stages in recovery, still understood and supported me, which was exactly what I needed.
It was then that I truly understood that recovery is not just for people with mental illnesses – we are all recovering from something – alcohol, drugs, losing a loved one, loss, a breakup – and acceptance and support (without judgement) is the cure, or at least a step towards healing, for everyone.
The day after the “incident,” I was laughing at the story to friends at the nail salon, and realized it wasn’t so bad and that I just needed to pamper myself.
It’s much easier to do if you have support from loved ones or even strangers in a support group, and sometimes that’s the best support you can have.
Will I fail again? Sure, but that doesn’t mean I have to start all over again. I just have to pick up the pieces and keep moving forward at my own pace. I have a track record of 1,825 days where I know I can make it.
And unlike the outfit I wore the other day, I can live with it.
Heather Loeb has experienced severe depression, anxiety, eating disorders, personality disorders, and has battled mental health stigma for over 20 years. She is the founder of Unruly Neurons (www.unrulyneurons.com), a blog dedicated to normalizing depression, and an affiliate leader for NAMI Greater Corpus Christi.
