It's been a long road. 

The last 12 years have been a winding path that have lead me to myself: here. In a few short months I'll be celebrating my 30th solar return, and almost symbiotically, a freedom from healing, working and struggling to get to this very vantage point. 

Without ever really knowing it, every action of the last 12 years has led me to this place. I've put myself through school 4 times, I've lived and worked in over 6 countries, and I've traveled the world. I've made friends across the vastest reaches of this earth, and through these relationships and community I've had the humbling privilege of learning from my (abundant and rich) mistakes.

Being allowed to be witnessed; giving myself permission to share my story at first - and then later giving myself permission to heal at all - these were the ways in which I began to excavate the depths of how far my pain reached. Digging, digging - fuck, it's uncomfortable. The way I see it, however, is like this: in my backyard there's an old oil tank buried under the ground. It's going to be a literal and financial pain to deal with it, however every day it's leaking and contaminating more space. It will never stop until its dealt with it, so what's more painful - being uncomfortable short-term, or in denial long-term?

Digging was physical and emotional. In 12 years I've had shingles, knee surgery, a parasite infection and countless other ailments, medications, hospital visits and therapy. I've also spent (literally thousands) of hours in service to others - in both a professional and personal capacity. As a clinician, I've learned to use my pain and my story to connect with vulnerable and disenfranchised populations. As a learning, healing, growing, mentally ill person - I have learned how to be as patient with myself as I am with those to which I am in service to - for I am also worthy of love, respect, healing and recovery. 

It wasn't always easy, and I'll be honest with you. I have wanted to end my life many times. Perhaps it's hard to explain, but those who have lived it can likely resonate. When you have an illness, or a healing journey that is so rugged and so steep, even looking up to the top can blind you. The fog and disconnection you feel from your body and your spirit holds it's grip on you as you try to claw your way up. Clawing your way up is hard enough without the baggage strapped to your feet, weighting you down. I spent a long time looking at the top and the bottom and thinking to myself - which way is actually harder? Prior to this time I never dreamed of ending my life, however being that sick, that unwell - it was enough to make me say "okay, cut the cord - I don't want to fight anymore". It's not so much that you want to hurt yourself, as tha you don't want to feel hurt anymore. I akin it to turning off the TV and saying "I'm done".

That deep well was roughly 2 to 3 years of my life. For 2 to 3 years I spend every day just trying to survive the day - all the while going to school and working full time and training for a marathon (or two). High functioning people seldom seem unwell, and I could argue it's hard for us to admit defeat, struggle or that we can't manage our current situation. I tried to rush through my healing with brute force at times, without actually giving myself a moment of rest. That too was one of my biggest learnings. 

Healing takes time, but falling apart does too. When we roll off the tracks and engage behaviours that don't grow us or heal us, we spend days and (likely) months "getting" ourselves into the mess. It's not going to be fixed in one day. By the same token, growing is also about examining our lives and choosing to make the best of it. It's not always the case that we've "fallen off the tracks" but that we were never given the proper tools to begin with. Defeating ourselves because we inherited baggage or trauma or mental illness is not at all helpful because it doesn't acknowledge that our struggles are not who we are. Being honest with yourself about your healing allows you to remain present in what comes. 

After all that's half the battle. 

I've realized over the years that my healing won't come in a certain or specific way; and that it's always shifting and transforming. Healing is not linear, neither are our lives. (If you need something to really help you shift your thinking - start learning about Chaos Theory. In a nutshell - we are always in a state of flux.) In understanding that impermanence is the only permanence I began to understand that there will always be highs and lows, and that really, it's a rollercoaster all the way through - and that's okay. I've also realized that we are all on our own, completely unique rollercoaster rides and that you couldn't possibly compare, judge, rate, critique or put value upon in any way. Once you realize that you are completely original and one of a kind, you start to embrace your ride because it makes sense to you. You don't want to live someone else's life - do you? 

For the last 26 weeks I have been diligently plugging away at my healing in earnest. While the last 5/6 years have been the breadth of my last cycle, it has taken me all that time to simply arrive at that first week of October at all. That first week was when I just started again. Started to eat again, run again. I began to focus on sleep, habits, patterns and actions. I haven't really shared a lot about what my struggles look like (chronic pain, physical/mental/emotional symptoms) because I'm often so exhausted by them that I run out of energy by the time it comes to sharing.

However using weeks as a measurement has helped me breakdown the long, complicated journey into manageable pieces. It shows how many Mondays, and Friday's and long-run Sunday mornings I showed up to. Mentally, tricks like this help. Breaking things down into smaller pieces allows us to understand how to best use our energies and skills. This has been my most profound learning: how do I best use my energies so that I am not burning out or being taken advantage of? 

All of this is layers. Stripping down and building up. Of the last 12 years of growth, it took me 6 years to get lost, and consequently about 6 years to right the ship. Sometimes you add a layer and it doesn't mesh - don't take it personally, it requires a exploration and vulnerability to try new or scary things. The point it that we never stop using our creativity and passion and skills to make us into better people - because our world needs better people. We need us. 

A couple of weeks into October I was thinking about my mental illness and what it meant. I'm pretty open with the fact that I live with it and that it's a part of me, but there was something that was bothering me about how I identified. Firstly, I identify as non-binary in terms of my gender. I think gender is much more complex and layered than the current two options we have been provided. In any case, I realized that when I identified myself as a bipolar + non-binary person that it's kind of counter intuitive. 

I have very quietly "come out" as NB, because I'm still figuring things out about myself. Being okay with your shifts and balances is what will keep you engaged on the right path. It won't always be perfect or elegant - it just needs to be practiced. In this practice of reflection I considered that my identity of NBism includes a wholistic view in how I relate to life all-together - as something on a spectrum or gradient; always shifting, flexing and reacting to variables. Being bipolar is an extension of that - I'm not either high or low; I could be anywhere along it, or even both at the same time (yes, it's exhausting). 

My intention is not to deny my illness, but rather make it into something that makes sense to me. By enacting permission to make choices and identify myself I have given myself space to try on words, ideas and methodologies that I design. I don't know about you, but I've spent most of my life looking to others for validation and support and ideas and inspiration - who says I can't be my own inspiration? Who says I'm not an authority on my own life or what works for me? Honestly, until I started really reflecting upon myself I figured that wasn't even an option. I didn't think my own opinion of myself was more important than any institution or persons opinion of me. 

In this reflection I had an idea. Playing around with word I decided to start with "mentally ill" to see what I could find that fit better than "ill" or "well" or "bipolar". What I considered in this play was not that my illness takes away from my life - but that it make it more of a challenge (which for me, seems about right). I though about running and the determination it's taken me to get here - and poof - I came up with the word play of mentally w/ill/ed. 

Like a lightening bolt it hit me as an authentic definition of who I am - mentally willed. Surviving trauma, the world, as well as yourself requires a determination that is resilient. Resilience is about how we get back up after we fall - not about how well we avoid making mistakes. I've willed myself to run marathons, tattoo large portions of my body, undergo surgeries, exams, and even a 200-page masters thesis - I'm pretty sure I am powerful, resilient, and willed. What do I have to prove? 

I've read many touching pieces of social media this week that have inspired me to share my learning in response. We never know when sharing our testimony can help someone else, or ripple outwards. 

Admittedly, in a culture that values "progress" and "productivity" over self-care it can be hard to appropriately value yourself and feel like you're just as amazing as the people you see out there in the world. It can be easy to slip into traps and habits that feed the wrong parts of ourselves. Why do we compare, daydream or evaluate others when we have no idea what they are going through? Why do we build perceptions in our heads and then act accordingly - towards ourselves, or others? Why do we seem to think that there isn't enough magic to go around and that we can only succeed by being "better" or "more" than (our imagined) perceptions? 

Do not fear. We are all somewhere along this spectrum, in our own experience, doing the best we can. We are going to say things we wish we hadn't; we're going to have backwards ideas or unhelpful habits that drag us off course. Do not hold it against yourself - every day is a new day to try again, a new day to be the person you need to be for yourself. Again, don't take it personally - we are all learners and teachers, and we share the responsibility of growing and cultivating life, community and our own experience. 

We are all mentally willed. We are incredible, and doing exactly what we should be. If your journey looks similar or different to someone else's - do not fear. There is more than enough magic to go around. 

Many thanks to those of you out there sharing your stories - your healing journeys have helped my healing journey more than you'll ever know. 

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