Okay, so, I actually only logged onto my computer in the last 20 minutes (it’s 4p now) because I had to check with when my job requires us to submit our hours online (weekly or bi-weekly; it’s bi-weekly, by the way) when I remembered, via the tab on my Firefox browser above, that, oh shit, right, I need to do a blog post!
So, this is going to be a smorgasbord of posts because I have a LOT on my mind and a lot to say and some of it is on topic and some of it just isn’t. Let’s try and live with that even though it’s uncomfortable, shall we?
So, what’s been happening?
My friend Vanessa is still in the hospital and I am visiting her today, it’s her birthday actually! I have made her a happy birthday and get well soon card that some people from program signed and for which I still have to fill in some of my final thoughts and color a couple more pictures in it.
The visiting hours for Vanessa are 6:30p – 8p. Which means I’ll be leaving by 5:30p to get there as it’s a little bit of a hike with a giant bridge (eeeps!) that I have to go over to get there, but it’s not a suuuuper bad ride.
Next, my friend Madeline has gone back inpatient too. She was in back in June and was out for a week or so and just had to go back in yesterday. Unfortunately, and she double unfortunately wasn’t sent to a good hospital so there’s that. But she’s safe. And she’ll be starting at Passages soon too, and I think that will really, really help her.
So besides thinking my friends are dropping like flies, with more struggling and more that have second thoughts about reaching out, I also started my period today and my back and front is killing me.
And my first shift for work starts Saturday.
And I had a psychiatry appointment today.
And I’ve been scalp picking like a motherfucker lately and I’m not sure when…when I’m going to stop.
But this isn’t all bad, really! I don’t know if I’m trying to convince myself of this or you as well, but, we’re here.
And I guess I have to celebrate and rejoice that although fragmented, all of my friends ARE still here. Still alive, still breathing.
It’s true that I can’t breathe for them. It’s true that I can’t love them THROUGH their pain–not to say I won’t support them or to say I won’t care about them, but rather that love is not a strong enough force in making people realize how amazing and wonderful and lovely they are. I don’t think that’s come out the way I wanted it to.What I’m trying to say, is that love isn’t often enough to save people from themselves. And it sucks, a lot. And it doesn’t mean you’re not there for them, because YOU ARE and you remind them how much you care and love them and you also accept that at the end of the day, they’re their own person and all decisions are ultimately up to them.
It’s a powerlessness that knows no bounds. A helplessness often chalked up to enabling. And it’s hard. It’s really, really hard. But all we can really control is ourselves. And sometimes having to do that is a mission to the moon all by itself.
I was talking to my Dad today about this in the car (I asked if he could drive me to my appointment to help conserve gas for me; fun fact: my psychiatrist got to meet my doggo! :D) and I’ve never spoken about it online before (although I’ve wanted to), so here it all goes:
I’m not going to be 100% positive and supportive 100% of the time.
That’s a really, really difficult thing to say.
I’m basically saying that I have my OWN doubts sometimes, regarding my friends. Regarding the people I interact with, the people I don’t even know yet.
Sometimes I wonder if they will recover. Sometimes I’m unsure that they can find stability, like I have. Sometimes I don’t know what to say. Sometimes I doubt their strength.
But I don’t tell them that.
I guess I put up the continued front that I do believe in them 100% of the time, and I DO believe in them, don’t get me wrong, it’s just not always 100% every day, all the time.
And I think that’s probably something that makes me human.
We can’t be happy and positive ALL of the time. It’s natural to have doubts, to second guess ourselves, to wander into the darkness.
And I don’t know if it’s right or wrong to hide that doubt from people. I don’t know if adding that doubt to their already full plate would be detrimental to their recovery journeys or helpful to be reminded that they’re not alone in wondering the worst and they’re not bad for having second thoughts, for having struggles. It’s really all a part of the process itself, to be honest.
But I guess I fear what that reaction might come across as–and some people might react warmly or coldly to it, not every person is the same and can we truly guess who will react one way versus the other?
So for now, for now I keep it in. And I feel relief at the fact that I’m often not face to face with my loved ones when I have these doubts, because they’d probably read it on my face. And I’m not sure if they should see that or not. And I keep it in and thank the universe that I’m speaking to them through text message because then when I have my doubts, I can step away for a while, recharge myself, return to my burnout regimen and once I’ve feeling more clear-headed, then I can tell them that I trust them, I believe in their strength, and I have hope for them that they will get better and things will be okay again soon.
And I genuinely do believe in that. And when I have my own doubts, I turn to music where others have that hope for me, too.
Songs like, “Have it All” by Jason Mraz (the video below has a lot of incorrect song lyrics but I still love listening to this copy of it!):
To me, this song is so positive, happy, upbeat and wishing the best for our loved ones on one hand, and also to the rest of humanity on the other. 🙂 ❤
Now, I will segue into today’s chosen thumb.
“Shine. Then, shine brighter”
This quote, that I pulled from the recesses of my own mind, means to me that when the going gets tough, when life feels like shit, when you’re so lost in the darkness–that you dare yourself to shine on. You dare yourself to brighten up, you dare to feel hope, you dare to trust in the process, have faith within your bones and give yourself up to the night sky where you are then carried by the light of the stars and become one with the universe, with all its hopes and promises and better tomorrow’s ahead. Having hope, to me, is believing that things will get better, when they have before and ESPECIALLY when they don’t seem to have happened before. Hope is the reason to keep going. Hope is fighting when all you want to do is lie down and stop the fight. To stop the war.
Hope, to me, is roaring when your voice feels hoarse. Hope, to me, is wandering through the dark woods, knowing that you’ll make it through to the other side–and believing that you WILL when you feel like all is lost and you are broken. Hope, to me, is trying for one more second, one more minute, one more hour, one more day. Hope is the stars twinkling in the night, finding their shine even within the darkness (or even because of the darkness).
And rainbows–well, rainbows are my very foundation. I love rainbows, I love color. There’s a reason that my slogan for my blog is based out of a rainbow lighthouse:
The rainbow lighthouse would be my logo to everything that I’ve built–to this blog, to my Youtube channel, to my Twitter, to my projects—everything. It’s where my dreams build upon harder ground. It’s where things are bright, and shiny and colorful.
Color to me is transformative. I used to draw back in 2015 with blue or black ink.
Now, I use watercolors and I use lots of COLOR and I make everything into something extraordinary, in the way that only I can truly do. Color to me is in your face, and I think that’s really how my soul radiates badassery and power these days, ahaha! 😀
The tree with the hands was the perfect thing for this thumb, as well. I’m so happy and proud that I found it because it reminded me of this drawing I once did (all the way back in 2015!):
I was probably getting ready for all my tree and roots metaphors this far back in the day! XD
I remember showing this particular drawing to Steve as we waited in the Counseling Center for the ambulance to show up.
I didn’t know then where I’d be now but it’s been one helluva ride and I wouldn’t change a thing.
My story, my life, has a brighter light than most. Most people struggle with acceptance and getting help and getting treatment.
The majority of my recovery, that hasn’t been the case for me. I had people rooting for me early on, I had people’s hope, I had people’s love. I didn’t go through trauma. I didn’t have a genetic vulnerability to mental health.
I just got handed a shit stick in life and I transformed it into my passion. I took the cards I was dealt and flipped them differently. I often sought help directly from myself (or, as it were, indirectly through other individuals). I know that wasn’t entirely the case last year but I hope to call upon it further in the coming years when I move forwards inch by inch. I think I can help others. I think by sharing my story, my voice, that I can help someone else out there. Whether it’s just making those conversations with people, simply sharing what did and didn’t work for me, by writing walls of text onto an Internet bubble, I think I can do that. I know that I have already. And I hope for more time in the future to share all the darkest bits of myself, and focus instead on all the ways I’m growing, shining brighter and brighter with all the color and sparkle in the world!
So, I hope you, too, will choose to shine with me. I hope that you will have hope for yourself and others, too. And when you falter, and when I falter too, I will hold onto hope for the both of us. And it’ll be us against the world, against our minds. And we’ll make it through.
Because that’s what survivors do.
Welcome to RecoverytoWellness. Welcome to Recovery. Welcome to Humanity. Welcome to empathy, kindness and compassion. We’re happy to have you here. Please, choose to stay a while.
Thank you soooooo much for reading!!!
Sending you all love and positivity! ❤ ❤ ❤ xxx