Healing from Trauma takes Work
As a former facilitator for the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) Connection Recovery Support Group, I began each meeting by reading a list of objectives provided by NAMI. One of the objectives states: Understand that mental health conditions are no one’s fault and can be traumatic experiences. To be clear, not everyone who lives with mental illness has experienced a traumatic event as a result of his/her mental health condition. For those of us who have, however, the trauma can be debilitating, which makes it difficult for the affected individual to return to his/her state of normalcy.
On two separate occasions, about six years apart, I lived through traumatic experiences due to severe manic symptoms of bipolar I disorder. My healing journey this most recent time looks entirely different than my healing journey the first time. Following the traumatic episode that I experienced in January of 2017, I attempted to return to life as usual immediately following my discharge from the hospital. For me, “life as usual” looked like a full-time second-year PhD student who worked what felt like full-time hours as a graduate research assistant for a health policy center and who was heavily involved in church, including serving on the leadership team for the middle and high school youth ministry. My attempt at returning to my life pre-traumatic event was an absolute fail. I appeared fine for maybe two weeks, after which my mental health began to rapidly decline. I was becoming increasingly depressed and anxious by the day. I sought therapy from an on-campus pscyhologist. She was an outstanding therapist who was really helping me. Unfortunately, due to red tape, I was unable to continue my treatment with her.
Unable to finish school, I applied for an emergency withdrawal from my classes with the intent to return in the fall semester. I did return, but my mental health got so bad that I was having frequent anxiety attacks, and eventually, I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed to shower much less make it to class – which was very unlike me. I made the difficult decision to give it all up. I withdrew. For good.
I moved back home and lived with my mom until I could get back on my feet. I was no longer working, so I was not making any money. On top of that, all of my friends that I knew from home had moved to other states. But honestly, even if I did have friends close-by, I was not going to make plans to see them or catch up. The last thing I wanted was for people – especially people I knew – to know what I had been through and to see me depressed and failing at life. I was ashamed and confused. I felt worthless.
My mom became my best friend during the most broken period of my life, and she was pivotal in my recovery. She got me involved with NAMI, which allowed me not only to share my story with crowds of strangers but also to help myself while helping others as a support group facilitator. My mom also encouraged me to find employment – at a veterinarian’s office of all places. Little did I know at the time, that vet’s office, that leap of faith, was going to open so many other doors for me. I was introduced to ultrasound, which I ended up going to school for while working at another veterinary hospital so that I could pay my way and make some money. I still work in ultrasound currently, and I don’t plan to stop using my degree any time soon.
I don’t remember how long it took me to start opening up to my friends and people close to me about what I had experienced in 2017. I was “under the radar” for quite some time, though. Sharing my story with one person and receiving such support in return gave me the strength to share with another person and another person and another person. I am not saying that you should necessarily tell the world about all your experiences and/or struggles, especially if you don’t want to or are not ready to. Not everyone deserves to hear your story. Not everyone is going to accept you. Not everyone is going to have your back.
Now that I have experienced essentially the same trauma over again, I know what to do as far as how to heal. It’s pretty much the exact opposite of what I did the first time. As far as obligations go, I really only had myself and my child to care for upon discharge from the hospital. In addition to that, I have great support from family and friends both near and far. I am still living in Alabama, where my parents are, and I have now formed new friendships and relationships with people I did not know before who live close-by. Even before the traumatic experience that I endured in December of 2022, I had established professional relationships with both a therapist and a psychiatric nurse practitioner. This was helpful because I did not have to waste valuable healing time trying to find mental health professionals who were a good fit for my needs while I was also trying to recover and get well. Instead of retreating and isolating, I find myself encouraged to share more and speak up more. I am not allowing myself to repeat 2017.
You have probably heard the expression, or even song lyrics, to the effect of “everything gets better with/in time.” I agree to an extent. I think that the more appropriate expression is that it’s not time that makes everything better but what you do with it. This is why I say that healing (and I don’t necessarily mean getting to 100%) takes work. How much time your work takes depends on you.
Signed,
Lai (Bipolar I)
