Stress, Trauma, and the Color Orange: Hope and Recovery
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I live my life in black and white, finding myself caught up in the grey. I’m numb. I’m empty. I don’t have the words to place my emotions. What most people don’t know is that as an overall, in the last year I have spent six weeks in psychiatric inpatient care. Guilt over what I’ve done and shame over who I am as a result plague my mind. I don’t believe I exist. I don’t know who I am. It’s been this way for a very long time.
Cutting, self-injury, and suicidal ideation have all played a role in my three hospitalizations, whereas mania has played a role in the last two. Tired of the constant retelling, my story for the last hospitalization boils down to, “I had a flashback and cut my wrist.” I frantically, impulsively tried to regain control and end the pain… Intensity and emptiness, or otherwise feeling ‘nothing and everything’, explain my emotionality in words I don’t have.
I fight for the moment. I fight for the day. And I take each a step at a time. This process of recovery is a journey and I need to remember that. Today, a year ago, was the day I first stepped into inpatient treatment; earlier today, I was discharged from a partial hospitalization program following my longest inpatient stay.
This last hospitalization was by far the best for me. I’ve been validated to the severity of my mental illness and am grateful to be walking through it.
Staff not only cared for me, but took the time, effort, and patience to make sure I was equipped and educated on my diagnoses, the reasoning behind them, medications I’m being treated with, and what the best options are for therapy as well as what techniques I ought to make a priority in learning to cope.
I was shown grace in the midst of my hurt.
I’m not entirely sure where to go from here. I have an idea, as with the things I have learned, I have been told to take it slow and can perceive I need to do so with a fair amount of caution.
In regards to some of the trauma I need to work through, I have been advised to take that even slower, waiting at least a year while using my healthy coping skills to dive into it so that I have lessened the self-destructive urges and can fight rather than find myself potentially impulsively attempting suicide should things not go as I want. I need to be able to handle the emotions associated with the trauma, and that won’t be any time soon.
That was a tough one to swallow, but one in which I feel the group leader was totally correct on. Right now I am emotionally vulnerable and unstable and I don’t think and I go too fast, and then I crash and see everything I had missed in the rush and blur. I see the choices I’ve made impulsively or compulsively, out to destroy some part of me; I see all the pieces come together…but only after mistakes have been made and I sit for days at minimum hating that I gave in.
It’s a difficult, sticky sort of situation. The work it’s going to take to dismember my cognitive distortions will be long and hard as I look towards positive self-affirmations and coping skills. I have been taught so much on coping skills that I never knew were a thing but they are.
And any time I make any mention of my struggle of self-injurious behavior it always comes back to that, “Well how are you doing with your coping skills?” My struggle is that I know. My struggle is that I don’t entirely know how to turn that knowledge into practice. By the grace of God I continue to fight for every moment. Affirming myself in the reality of moments done well is consistently difficult, but I’ve heard that will lessen in time.
As it stands, I am thankful to see my maladaptive behaviors lessening. Yeah, it still sucks when I do give into temptation, but things are getting better. I can praise God to see that shift becoming a change. Maybe I won’t always wear rubber bands around my wrist. Maybe I won’t always need to have a journal on me at any given moment. But for today and the months ahead, this is what I need to do to survive.
Though it’s now two weeks late, for Self-Injury Awareness Day (March 1), I wrote a poem. It was a way to cope with the chaotic rush of thoughts and try to seek some positive reprieve while in the hospital. I am strong, and I will press on.
Broken to Redemption.
I never knew how hard the work would be on this road to recovery
Silent storms will eventually shatter, and I know one day the steps will matter
Days come where the beast rages from within while nights reveal cries from skin
Flesh marked with scars reminds of where we are
Yet it was far from sane where we found our pain
As prayers sing out, we hear the sound, hoping we can stand our ground
“Dear Jesus, bless our brokenness; give us strength today!
Deliver us as we work to resist!”
Healing can begin when we save our broken skin
Where pens scratch until they bleed, reminding of the desperate need…
Looking for a remedy, this isn’t your identity!
The price of bloodguilt has been paid; it’s in Christ’s name we are saved
Together, we walk through the journey of life, seeking reprieve in the midst of strife
Don’t give up, it’s worth the fight! Even in the dark of night!
Even in the dark of night – don’t give up, it’s worth the fight!
Of Muddy Paws On The Concrete Road 
Thank you for writing your blog. The world needs as many people as possible sharing their experiences with mental illness, in order to fight the stigma. You are brave and strong. Hang in there…
Thank you, Sharon! The stigma associated with these illnesses is hell, but I write my blog with hopes of encouraging and educating. One moment at a time – doing what I can! :)
I’m glad your out my friend, and even happier that your getting the help you need. Remember that if there is anything at all that I can do to help, I want to.
Thank you, friend. :) I appreciate all the help you have provided me!
Not as much as I wish I could
Thank you for sharing, Kady. Still praying for you. You are loved.
Thank you for being willing to talk about your journey –it will hopefully help remove the stigma surrounding mental illness. I pray that others find encouragement in your words like I have.
Keep fighting one more day. That is a good thing to keep in mind for both of us.
You are loved, dear friend.
In Christ,
–Sheena
Thank you, Sheena! <3
I am glad to hear my words are encouragement to you. It is my prayer as well that stigma could be combated…one post at a time, I suppose. :)