labor pains

When I think about recovery I think about the night I gave birth to my son Joseph. Yes it was painful, but it was also exciting because I was living in the highest state of expectancy of my life. I was bringing forth someone brand new that had never before existed.

Recovery is like that. You are becoming something you never were before. Someone brand new. And like childbirth it can be painful. Recovery requires growth. It requires taking a broad and deep look at yourself. To live in recovery you must look at how you talk-do you speak positivity into your life? You must look at who you spend your time with-are your friends and family in support of your goals? You must cultivate purpose -do you volunteer or work in an environment that honors your contributions? You must advocate for your healthcare-are you working in partnership with hour healthcare workers for the best possible plan for you? If you can answer yes to these questions then its smooth sailing for you, but if not, this is where the pain comes in.

If you answered no, then you’re going to have some recovery labor pains. Recovery got real for me when I took the training to become a certified peer specialist (CPS). In this two-week training they gave the participants a button at the start that said “I’m a walking miracle.” At first I just put it in my purse. It didn’t jive with the language I spoke back then about myself as someone with a mental health diagnosis. I didn’t have any positive talk about that so I couldn’t relate. By the end of the training I was color coordinating my clothes to match that button!

In that training I came to understand that the coping skills that I had used to thrive and survive made me an expert on me! And the training I was getting made me a competent peer specialist! Whoa, talk about bringing forth someone brand new that had never before existed! Those trainers had me fired up. I left that training with a new idea of who I could be and what I could do.

When I got home from the training I told everyone who would listen that I wanted to do what everyone had told me that I would never do. I wanted to work full time as a CPS. My family cautioned me against it. Some of my friends warned me that the stress would send me back to the hospital. My co workers expressed their fears for me. There was tremendous pushback.  Labor pains. But the seed had been planted. It was just a matter of time. And I cried because I knew if I were go grow into this vision I had for myself I was going to have to part ways with people who had been my support. I had to create new boundaries with old friends. I couldn’t share my new goals because they were naysayers. Some relationships don’t survive recovery. Some relationships don’t survive recovery because when you take a good look at yourself and change, you force those around you to do the same.

How do you move forward with this new version of yourself when your supporters stop supporting you? You realign yourself with people who are where you want to be. That’s what I did. I kept in touch with the people I went through the CPS training with. I had to create a new support system. It was painful but necessary. And all the while I was looking for opportunities where I could be involved in that reflected my new vision of me.

So now, four years later I’m still working my recovery. Still going through pains though not as dramatic, establishing new boundaries, letting people go and welcoming new supporters in.