Thank you to WFMZ for including me on a recent episode of Business Matters!
Mental Health Matters
Tag: Recovery
Reflections on Father’s Day
Father’s Day brings up so many difficult feelings. While others are out celebrating their dads or honoring their memory, I have to build up the courage to make a phone call. Growing up, my dad and I had always been close. Despite my parents getting divorced when I was in third grade, I still saw him every weekend and I looked forward to our time together at his apartment a half hour away. We’d pop popcorn and watch movies on HBO. We’d go to his office and do “work.” He’d pay me to write out the envelopes for prospective clients. We’d go grocery shopping and out to eat. He’d take my friends and me to the mall and host sleepovers with my friends. We’d go to the laundromat every Sunday and race washing machines. We’d put the quarters in the slots and push them in to the machine when my dad said “Go.” We’d play games in the car like “Name That Tune.” He’d whistle a few notes of a popular song and I’d try to guess what it was. When I was in high school, we’d go to a local bar/restaurant for Karaoke nights. He’d even buy me my favorite drink—a fuzzy navel! I sang with the owner so he bent the rules a bit.
Anyway, my dad was my hero. He never missed a performance and there were a lot. He would even go to the same musical multiple times and sit in different areas for different perspectives. Every bank teller knew every accomplishment of mine and told me how proud my dad was of me every time I went to the bank with him. He was dynamic and creative and fun. He was also bipolar, though he was never diagnosed or medicated for the illness. This created lots of unnecessary stress and dysfunction in our already non-traditional family. He’d go from jokes and laughter to rage in a split second and the smallest thing could set him off. Actually, he handled the larger issues with far more calmness and grace. But a dish out of place or a dribble of milk on the counter and you could hear him for miles.
Our relationship became more complicated when I started living with him during my sophomore year of high school. He had an unstable girlfriend who moved in with us and faked a pregnancy and miscarriage (despite a full hysterectomy years before), and then cancer. She’d leave clumps of her hair around as proof, though she was really just pulling her hair out to suit her sordid narrative. For fun, she would take out her false teeth, pull her hair back from her forehead, stick out her tongue, and chase me around the house when my dad wasn’t around. She howled when they had sex and even told me that my dad prefers blowjobs with her teeth out. Ugh. Not information that a teenager needs to learn about her father. Anyway….
When we moved to a new house my senior year of high school, I co-signed under the impression that if something happened to him, I would still have a place to live. Now that I’m older, I know that unless a house is paid off, the bank will come to the co-signer for the mortgage payment. As a recent college graduate responsible for my own rent, I didn’t have the money for an additional mortgage payment so the house foreclosed. I also learned that my dad had taken several credit cards out in my name without my knowledge. To make financial matters worse, my dad’s name was on my checking and savings accounts so my accounts were frozen and I had no access to my money. Then my dad was arrested for insurance fraud and put behind bars for several years. Unable to pay off all the debt from my father, I had to declare bankruptcy at 22 without having charged a cent. Not an ideal start to life on my own. For the next seven years, I learned to live with little money and no credit.
Five years later, he got out of prison, but he wasn’t the same fun and supportive dad. He was hard and cynical. He made promises he never kept. I caught him in more lies than I can remember and he never owned up to ripping off all his clients. He also never apologized for all he’d put me through as a young adult.
Flash forward to the present. My dad, who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s last year, is staying in an assisted-living facility an hour and a half away. I call him, but he rarely answers. I visit him from time to time and take him out for dinner and grocery shopping. He’s always appreciative and happy to see me, but the visits take a toll on my mental health. He seems to have forgotten all the hell he’s put me through and only remembers all the good things he’s done. Probably a defense mechanism so he can live easier with himself. I accept that and just want him to enjoy the years he has left. He’s lonely, though much of that is his fault. That’s punishment enough. I don’t need to make it worse for him. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard and I don’t struggle. Not just on Father’s Day, but every day.
I Get By with a Little Help from…My Support Group
I looked at the faces on my computer screen, the people in my support group with whom I’ve spent every Thursday night on Zoom for the past two years. As the facilitator, I try to stay positive, but one night I was really down. I had just gotten back from a girls’ weekend with two college friends, both of whom went on to have successful careers, one as a lawyer and the other as a high school principal.
I thought back to our college years and wondered what happened to me—the straight-A student who worked two part-time jobs, participated in choir, theatre, served as Philanthropy Chair in a sorority, and volunteered at a local school. I had looked forward to a bright future when all my hard work and dedication would pay off. And it did until a mental breakdown in my 40s upended my world.
Due to an unsupportive administration that exacerbated my mental health challenges, I had to give up my beloved career as a high school English and Drama teacher. As my college friends talked about juggling the demands of working full-time, raising children, and managing household tasks like cooking, cleaning, and paying bills, I felt like a failure. I can barely manage to work ten hours a week, my daughter is struggling with her own mental health issues, and my husband handles the majority of the household chores. I smiled and nodded, pretending to relate, but inside I felt broken and worthless.
As my support group shared how their week had gone, I debated whether or not to let them know how terrible I felt. As a leader, I didn’t want to take any focus off of them and I didn’t want to set a negative tone. But I needed to be honest. So I shared how difficult my weekend trip had been and how lonely and unaccomplished I felt.
Nicole, my fellow leader of the group, told me that she became a facilitator because I inspired her in one of the mental health courses I taught. She continued, “I know you feel like you’ve failed because you aren’t an English teacher anymore, but you are still teaching and impacting so many lives. More than you will ever know. So many people are here because of you.”
Another voice said, “I’m here because of you.”
Then another. “Me, too.”
My throat swelled and my heart filled with gratitude. A warm sensation spread throughout my body. I thanked them for their kind words and told them how much I needed to hear that.
Sometimes we can’t see what is right in front of us. Sometimes we get so caught up in what was supposed to be that we miss the beauty of what is. By pining for past employment or neglecting to explore other options, we rob ourselves of new and exciting opportunities and lasting, meaningful connections. We can still make a difference even if it’s not the way we had hoped or imagined. We can use our talents, skills, and experiences to enrich (even save) another’s life. I can’t think of anything more worthwhile than that. I may not have the money or the pension plan or the health insurance or the retirement benefits like I once did, but I have peace of mind and purpose and that is priceless.
Keeping It Real
Sometimes you can do all the right things (e.g., practice gratitude, mindfulness, reframe distortions, use positive self-talk and affirmations, exercise, eat right) and depression can still rear its ugly old head in and leave you in a world of suck. I’ve really been struggling the past few weeks and my biggest fear is: what if I don’t get better? I know, rationally, that I will get better at some point and I just need to ride out yet another episode, but I still worry that no matter what I do I’ll never get better and I can’t live this way for the rest of my life. I need to remind myself that, as my therapist tells me, “that’s my anxiety and depression talking.” I need to challenge these distortions and tell my depression to “shut up!”
So let me reframe this distortion: “No matter what I do I’ll never get better.” This is not true nor is it helpful. I haven’t tried all possible medications and treatments so I can’t know that nothing will help (generalization). I also can’t know that I will never get better either (mind reading or predicting the future). However, if I tell myself that I won’t get better I will, no doubt, impede my progress.
A more rational thought would be: “There are many medications and treatments I haven’t tried. It may take time, but I will get better as I have many times before.”
Just by reframing my thought, I feel a little better. Each positive step I take is a step closer to wellness. Depression may have me in its grip right now, but I will get better. It’s only a matter of time.
On Recovery
ON RECOVERY
Recently, a friend shared the following post regarding her recovery from cancer on Facebook:
“I’ve been cancer-free for almost nine months. Some days, I can’t tell if I’m recovering from all of the treatments because it takes so long to recover. But, then I look back on the past nine months and realize that I’ve come a long way. Here’s how I know I’m getting better:
-9 Months Ago: Couldn’t do three push-ups without collapsing.
-Today: Did 20 of them.
-9 Months Ago: I could barely lift 20 pounds.
-Yesterday: I did 48kg deadlifts (I forget how to convert that number into pounds).
-9 Months Ago: Couldn’t run a mile in less than 14 minutes.
-Today: I run multiple miles in less than 12-minute miles… getting closer to 11-minute miles.
-9 Months Ago: Sometimes, I slid down the stairs because chemo made my feet numb and it was easier to slide than try to walk down the stairs.
-Today: I still hold onto the railing for dear life, but I let go on the last few stairs, now.
So, when I type it out like this, I see that there is so much to celebrate on this birthday. I’m still praying for a full recovery, but, really, I’m just grateful to be here and to know so many wonderful people”
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Naturally, I was thrilled to read of her progress and all the supportive comments that followed her post. Then I thought about how far I’ve come with my own illness and I felt grateful, too. But I wondered: what responses would I get if I posted my progress regarding my mental health condition? Would people think I was just seeking attention, exaggerating, or minimizing my friend’s struggle with cancer? Would others even read it? If they did, would they just roll their eyes and move on? Or would they avoid me the next time they saw me in person, as if my depression might somehow infect them?
I understand that people might not know what to say to someone who struggles from depression, but saying nothing just makes a person feel more ashamed, more worthless, more invisible, and more alone. So here is my celebration of my progress within the past 7 years
My Recovery from a Mental Health Condition:
“7 years ago, my brain broke and I was diagnosed with bipolar II and major depression. I felt like I was given a death sentence, because there is no cure for mental health conditions and I will never be “free” of it. Some days, I struggle with feelings of worthlessness, fatigue, and loss of purpose and identity; It all seems too much to bear. But, then I remember how far I’ve come and how much I’ve learned. Here’s how I know I’m doing better:
-7 Years Ago: I was so ashamed and embarrassed, I isolated. I had no idea what was wrong with me or how to get better.
-Today: I have shared my story publicly and strategies I use to stay well with hundreds of patients and peers and teach NAMI education courses on an ongoing basis.
-7 Years Ago: I had 30 rounds of ECT and had difficulty remembering things and communicating my thoughts.
-Today: I regained my short-term memory, my brain responds to medication, and I am able to manage side effects.
-7 Years Ago: I was unable to work and convinced I’d never work again, let alone teach.
-Today: I have several jobs that allow me to use the skills I’ve spent my whole life building (NCC, NAMI, PBS, and TUTOR DR)
-7 Years Ago: I wanted to die to stop the persistent feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, and despair
-Today: I enjoy life and I know I have worth, purpose, and hope.
-7 Years Ago, I could barely get out of bed, get dressed, shower, and complete basic household chores
-Today: I get out of bed, complete household chores, and take care of my child on a regular basis.
-7 Years Ago: I didn’t even want to leave the house and took no pleasure in any of the things I once loved.
-Today: I direct school plays, sing in a band, perform in community theatre, and maintain my own blog.
So, when I type it out like this, I see that there is so much to celebrate, though many will still consider me “weak,” “lazy,” “crazy,” or “over-dramatic.” I know this will be a lifelong battle and there will be relapses, but I’m grateful to be here and to have the knowledge and skills to manage my condition, educate the public, and inspire hope to others with mental health conditions.
Why is a mental health condition treated differently than a physical one? Both are life-threatening medical conditions that affect millions of people. Both require extensive treatments and medications with crippling side effects. Yet someone with cancer is accepted, acknowledged, and supported while someone with a mental health condition is questioned, avoided, shamed, and blamed. No one says to someone with cancer, “get over it,” or “you’re just too lazy to work” or “you just want sympathy” or “there are days I feel like I have cancer, too.” That would be ridiculous. Yet, people with mental illness hear that all the time. Is a person who is battling mental health condition any less of a warrior, role model, or hero? My friend is resilient, strong, and courageous. So am I. So is anyone who fights daily to overcome any other debilitating disease. Just because an illness cannot be seen doesn’t mean it isn’t there or is any less serious.
Until mental health conditions are given the same respect, attention, and care as physical health conditions, the stigma surrounding mental illness will continue and people will suffer in silence and shame. Precious lives will be taken that might have been saved. If you are struggling with mental illness, you are not alone. You are seen, heard, honored, and loved more than you could ever know. Fight on, brave warrior—we see you, we hear you, we honor you.
Has a friend or family member told you to “snap out of it” or “get over it”?
I don’t know how many times I’ve heard these responses to my depression. As if it’s that easy. Anyone who tells you “You’re just having a bad day. You’ll feel better in the morning” has clearly not experienced the crippling agony and utter devastation of depression.
Thankfully, there are programs in place that help family members understand and support their loved ones with mental illness. The Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (DBSA) and The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) run programs and support groups for family members and friends.
The Lehigh Valley DBSA holds weekly support group meetings on Wednesdays at First Presbyterian Church on Tilghman St in Allentown from 7-9 pm. Contact information can be found by clicking here.
Another resource to help friends and family members understand mental illness and support their loved ones is NAMI’s Family-to-Family program, a free 12-session educational program taught by trained family members who have been there.
If friends and family members are not able to attend support meetings or participate in programs, there are plenty of websites to guide them. I referred my husband here.
Using Humor To Cope
One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do is resign from my job as a high school English and Theatre Arts teacher. From the time I lined up my stuffed animals on the basement stairs and taught them their ABCs, I had always wanted to be a teacher. After many years of hard work and sacrifice, I had achieved my Master’s in Education, reached the top of the pay scale, and possessed a retirement plan that seemed to be the envy of all. With tenure, seniority, and the support of a powerful and vocal union, I felt safe and secure. I loved being a teacher and devoted much (in retrospect, too much) of my time and energy there.
Then supportive and empowering administrators were replaced with critical and punitive ones. Teachers were forced to administer daily prescribed curriculum and threatened with insubordination for asking legitimate questions. District office personnel we had never even seen started penetrating the building, in search of anyone in violation. Esteemed teachers started leaving at alarming rates for new jobs, early retirements. Soon the toxic environment pushed me to my breaking point as well. In one day, I went from teaching in my classroom to being admitted to a hospital psychiatric unit. There’s nothing funny about that. But hold on.
I spent the next year and a half out on medical leave and worked on my recovery. As my brain healed and my confidence returned, the time came when I had to either return or resign. Devastated, but not wanting to risk a relapse, I waited until the very last day and resigned from teaching–the career I treasured and worked so hard to achieve. Still not funny, but wait–there’s more!
It took me YEARS to get over it and I harbored resentment until it ate me from the inside like a radioactive element. I had no idea how to channel all that pain, anger, and bitterness. Until one day, I just started laughing about how ridiculous my situation had become. I realized the absurdity and futility of remaining in the profession I once cherished and prided myself on my courage to leave. As if in a trance, I opened a Word document and my fingers found the keys and within ten minutes, I had written this short scene, which is based on an actual conversation I had with an administrator. I changed the end to reflect what most teachers who find themselves in this situation want to say, but can’t (that is, if they want to stay employed). So whenever I feel myself pining for the job I left behind or those angry, bitter feelings start to swell, I pull out this piece and chuckle anew.
So without further ado, I give to you BANG HEAD HERE:
PRINCIPAL, a 30-year-old male in tan dress pants and a light blue button-down collared shirt under a gray sports jacket sits at a large mahogany desk in his office leisurely scrolling through e-mail with a warm cup of coffee resting on upper right side of desk. TEACHER, a neatly dressed woman in her mid to late 40s, stands outside his office, anxiously waiting for PRINCIPAL’S attention and glancing at her watch. TEACHER wipes sweat from forehead and clears throat to get his attention.
P (looks up, but quickly resumes typing): I’ll be right with you. I’m just finishing up an e-mail.
T (glances again at watch uneasily, clearly annoyed): I can see you’re busy, but our appointment is scheduled for—
P (Still focused on screen, waving T into his air-conditioned office and continues to type): Oh, yes. Please have a seat. I’ll be right with you. (He grins and chuckles to himself, as if he’s crafted a witty post or created a new meme).
T: (Sitting in chair): I have to teach in ten minutes.
After a final emphatic click and a self-assured nod.
P: (Sighing and leaning back in leather high-backed swivel chair and folding hands behind his head). So, what brings you here?
T: As I mentioned in my e-mail, I wanted to address some concerns I have related to Anthony’s ongoing behavior in my class.
P: Oh yes, that’s right. Neat kid. (Nods head agreeably, though he has no clue who Anthony is). So, what seems to be the problem? (P leans forward to sip some coffee.)
T: (Matter of fact): Tony disrupts class on a daily basis and it’s making it difficult for the other students to learn.
P: Hmmm, I see. (He takes another sip and replaces cup, folds hands on desk.) So, what is he doing to disrupt the other students?
T: Well, yesterday he just got out of his seat and took another student’s pencil. Then he—
P (Cutting teacher off. Defensively.) Perhaps he needed one.
T: I don’t think so.
P: How do you know that?
T: He threw it out the window.
P: Wait. Why was he near the window?
T (Confused by question): Why was he—?
P: Yes, why was he by the window in the first place?
T: His case manager recommended Tony be able to get up and move as he feels the need. It’s part of his IEP. The point is he took another student’s pencil and—
P: Yes, I understand that. But why would he go to the window?
T: Probably to throw out the student’s pencil.
P: Why were the windows open?
T: It’s over 90 degrees today and there’s no air-conditioning in my room. It gets very hot in a small room with 30 students and it helps to–
P: In the future, just have him sit on the other side of the room so he isn’t near the window.
T (frustrated): He doesn’t sit near a window. He got out of his seat and walked over to the window. That’s when he grabbed a student’s pencil and tossed it—
P (Appears to be in thought) Now, I’m not suggesting…. Well, I’m wondering if…. Well, exactly what were the other students doing when Tommy got out of his seat?
T: Tony.
P: What? Oh, Tony. Yes, Tony.
T: They were writing in their journals.
P (Disapprovingly, turning mouth down): That’s a rather sedentary activity.
T: Well, it’s a five-minute freewriting exercise to get their ideas flowing and to generate material for their writing. It also helps with fluency.
P: (Confused): Fluency? (Beat.) Could this activity be more interactive?
T: After they write, they share what they’ve written with a peer. It’s just a warm up to get them—
P (Shakes head in confusion): A warm-up?
T: Yes, to get them thinking, writing, putting their thoughts—
P: Yes, but what do they DO with these thoughts?
T: It’s a prewriting activity for the first stage of the writing process. Eventually, their responses become—
P: Yes, but—
T: the basis for a thesis or a narrative or a poem.
P: But clearly, this is not an activity that engages ALL students so consider other ways for students to express their ideas. Otherwise, Tommy will continue to be disengaged and act out. I would suggest reaching out to other teachers for ideas on how to create more engaging lessons.
T: This was just a five-minute—
P: Well, let’s get back to Johnny. I mean, Tommy. How did you respond when he threw the pencil out of the window?
T: I gave the student another pencil so she could continue writing, but at that point, most of the students were reacting to Tony so I asked him to step out into the hall so I could speak to him privately, but he yelled “Fuck that! I’m going to the library!” and stormed out of the room.
P: So you just let him go? That sounds like you’re rewarding him.
T: Well, I couldn’t continue to follow him down the hall and leave the other 29 students unsupervised. I did call the library and they confirmed he was there.
P: Why didn’t you send him to his case manager?
T: She is co-teaching a class that period so she isn’t available. There is another case manager Tony can go to, but he refuses.
P: Have you talked to his case manager about this?
T (checks watch, starts to panic): Not face-to-face. I did send several e-mails to her as well as his guidance counselor explaining the ongoing situation, but I haven’t heard back yet. I’ve also spoken to his mom about his behavior.
P: And what did she say?
T: She said she gave up years ago and wished me luck.
(A brief pause ensues.)
P: You mentioned ongoing behavior? What other things has Tim done?
T: He calls out random things in the middle of class to get attention.
P (smiles and leans back in chair): Ah, so he’s comfortable speaking out in class. Perhaps you could find positive ways for him to use his voice and sense of humor?
T (shocked and confused): Sense of–??
P: He obviously wants to participate. Perhaps you could let him teach a lesson or assist in some other constructive way?
T: I tried that and it was a disaster. He ended up making faces at his classmates and telling jokes. I’d love to get him involved that way, but he would still need to follow the expectations, stay focused–
P: I’m sure he will once you give him some leadership. He hasn’t had problems in his other classes. Have you talked to them about what they’re doing?
T: Actually, I emailed all of his teachers this semester. Only two responded and they both said he acts the same way in their classes.
P: I must say, I’m surprised. We’ve never had any problems with Tim in the past.
T: Tony was expelled last year and spent the rest of the school year in alternative school.
P: I mean, this year.
T: (Checks watch.) Well, I have a class in one minute so –
P: Oh, have you met the Special Ed Lead Teacher? He’s a great resource, too.
T: Yes, we co-taught a class last year. (Rises to leave.)
P: I’m really glad we could figure this out.
T: Oh, I figured it out. You want me to waste taxpayers’ money and deny 29 other students their right to an education so I can escort a special needs student to the library because his case manager is co-teaching a class and isn’t even available as a resource, which is in clear violation of his IEP.
P: (Confused.)Wait. What???
Bell rings.
T: We can continue this conversation in my room after school. I’m in A125.
P is still processing, not sure what just happened.
T: (Turns back right before she enters the sweltering heat of the hallway.) Oh, and you might want to ditch the sports jacket. It’s hot.
END SCENE
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Find Your Roots
As I was gathering material for this new blog site, I revisited an old blog I started 5 years ago. I wish I could have told my younger self not to worry so much and that it would all work out for the best. But then again, I needed to experience those lows to be able to fully appreciate where I’m at now. I needed to surround myself with people who would appreciate me and lift me up rather than undermine me and tear me down. While this site is dedicated toward helping others and advocacy, I started blogging five years ago to make sense of my life and the twists and turns it had taken. I wanted to form meaningful connections with others who struggled in similar ways. I longed to be authentic, but I worried people wouldn’t accept me. So I tried hard to be a person I was not and I felt even worse. You can find my old blog here: https://hidinginthespotlight.wordpress.com/
Now I am content with a smaller circle of friends and I put my time and energy into people who matter–people who will be there when the road is rough, people who aren’t just there when it’s convenient or they want something, people who I can be myself around.
When I was growing up, I remember my mom telling me I would be lucky to find just one true friend in life. At the time, I thought that was absurd and I figured she just wasn’t that popular or outgoing when she was my age. Besides, I had tons of friends. However, as I grew older, I learned the wisdom behind her words. I’m much happier being lifted up my a few loyal friends than surrounded by a group of people who will only end up bringing me down at a time when I need them most. Been there, done that. I respect myself too much now and I have come too far to play games and waste energy. After all, I only have so much energy these days and I need to invest it wisely. Lesson learned, mom.
I found the following tree analogy online, though I’m not sure who originated the idea of the “tree test.” Regardless, it resonates with me and I love it. Here it is:
WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE YOU?
I have this tree analogy when I think of people in my life, be it friends, family, acquaintances, employees, co-workers, whomever…They are all placed inside what I call my tree test. It goes like this:
LEAF PEOPLE
Some people come into your life and they are like leaves on a tree. They are only there for a season. You can’t depend on them or count on them because they are weak and only there to give you shade. Like leaves, they are there to take what they need and as soon as it gets cold or a wind blows in your life they are gone. You can’t be angry at them, it’s just who they are.
BRANCH PEOPLE
There are some people who come into your life and they are like branches on a tree. They are stronger than leaves, but you have to be careful with them. They will stick around through most seasons, but if you go through a storm or two in your life it’s possible that you could lose them. Most times they break away when it’s tough. Although they are stronger than leaves, you have to test them out before you run out there and put all your weight on them. In most cases they can’t handle too much weight. But again, you can’t be mad with them, it’s just who they are.
ROOT PEOPLE
If you can find some people in your life who are like the roots of a tree then you have found something special. Like the roots of a tree, they are hard to find because they are not trying to be seen. Their only job is to hold you up and help you live a strong and healthy life. If you thrive, they are happy. They stay low key and don’t let the world know that they are there. And if you go through an awful storm they will hold you up. Their job is to hold you up, come what may, and to nourish you, feed you and water you.
Just as a tree has many limbs and many leaves, there are few roots. Look at your own life. How many leaves, branches and roots do you have? What are you in other people’s lives?
Hold On To Your Roots. Be the Root for Someone Else.
…And That’s a WRAP!
People have compared mental health treatment plans to emergency kits, toolboxes, lunchboxes and so on. These action plans are known as WRAPs (Wellness Recovery Action Plan). It doesn’t matter what you call it, but it’s important to create your own toolkit of strategies to use to stay well. It takes time to learn which tools work for you and when to use them. However, over time, you will discover the techniques that work best for you, just as a carpenter learns which tools to use for the job at hand. Research has shown that individuals with action plans manage their symptoms better and stay healthy for longer periods of times than those who have no plans in place.
So what do you put in this toolkit? Some common tools include exercise, talk therapy, medication, diet, peer support groups, and relaxation techniques like mindfulness, meditation, and deep breathing, Others use self-affirmations, mantras, and journaling and practice gratitude. Basically, anything that you need to do on a daily basis to maintain wellness can become part of your WRAP. Consider what you do when you are feeling well and incorporate those ideas and activities into your plan.
The Power of Self-Affirmations
I must admit the first time I learned about self-affirmations, I thought the idea was ridiculous. I remember thinking I can write or say “I am beautiful” or “I am worthy” but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever believe it. Undeterred, my therapist challenged me to just write down a few affirmations in a journal each day, even if I didn’t believe it. I picked “I AM LOVED,” because I knew my family loved me so I couldn’t argue with that one. Gradually, I started adding some others to my list: “I AM WORTHY.” “I AM STRONG.” “I AM PERSISTENT.” These statements became my “go-tos.” My mantras. And though I didn’t always feel strong or worthy, I still wrote it. After all, that was our deal. I figured I had nothing to lose anyway so it couldn’t hurt to try it. I decided to write them down before bed so at least I would go to sleep with a positive thought in my head rather than an endless cycle of self deprecation.
Then I took it a step further. I started to not just write my mantras or self-affirmations at the end of the day, but use them throughout the day. Whenever I had a negative thought, I would stop it and replace that thought with the mantra. So, “I am a loser” would become “I am worthy.” Even if I didn’t feel worthy at that time, the mantra briefly interrupted my negative thought pattern and moved my thoughts in a positive direction.
At one point, I turned it into a game. For each negative or self-deprecating thought I had, I made myself think of 3 positive things. That really helped, (mostly because I didn’t want to have to think of three things). Often, I resorted to the same ones: thankful for food, shelter, my daughter, the sun, my physical health, my sight, my legs, etc. Expressing gratitude for all the things I had rather than focusing on all the things I didn’t have helped me to stay positive and keep my irrational thoughts in check.
Now I use mantras all the time. I repeat them in my head to counteract a feeling (e.g., thinking “I am calm” when my anxiety strikes). I post them on my mirror. When I speak at the hospitals, I give the patients written self-affirmations to remind them of their worth and value. Each of us is unique with different talents, strengths, beliefs, qualities, and experiences. Why not appreciate what we do have rather than resent what we do not? Why not embrace who we are rather than berate ourselves for all we are not? I believe in the power of self-affirmations, not just on low days, but every day.
By treating ourselves with the same love and compassion we show to those we love, we can begin to heal and learn to love ourselves.
My Favorite Affirmations:
I am hopeful.
I am worthy.
I am resilient.
I am smart.
I am kind.
I am strong.
I am thankful.
I am proud.
I am brave.
I am enough.
Christina L. Dunbar 