Life is not perfect. We live in a world that is often full of pain, sorrow, lies, hate, violence, injustice and extreme disappointment. As we Christians often prefer to call it, we live in a broken and fallen world. I often wonder if what we think of as mental illness is a natural fallout of this collective brokenness. With the incredible pressure many of us are under to thrive, or even survive, in such a hostile place as human society, is it any wonder that we are going to have the collateral damage of persons ruined by mental illness, addiction and social isolation?
It isn't all bad, of course. And for all the ugliness we often see, even more there is beauty. There are the incredible wonders of nature, there are kind and compassionate people, there is art, music, great literature and architecture, there are the incredible discoveries of science and the phenomenal development of technological innovations.
We truly are demons and angels inhabiting the same body. We are all in many ways survivors and collateral damage of this fallen world and there are those who inspire the rest of us by their refusal to lie down and die.
I aspire to be such a person. Today I had an unfortunate incident. I was nearly attacked by an off leash pit bull type of dog, a bit smaller, but still running after me with every intention of having me for its lunch. I was walking on a residential street in an upper middle class neighbourhood, on my way to meet one of my clients at a community centre. I heard the dog snarling and barking just behind me, turned around and shouted at it to get lost. Just then its owner called it from down the street. I called after her that an apology would be appropriate. She ignored me. Then I chewed her out as an irresponsible dog owner and told her she ought to be ashamed of herself.
I also became aware of one other thing. I was traumatized. As a survivor of PTSD I am occasionally triggered, when something sudden and out of the blue suddenly threatens my wellbeing. I could tell right away by my cool, detached and dissociative state that I was in shock. I knew I would have to cancel my appointment with my client, called the supervising rec therapist, told her what was happening and left everything in her capable hands. I sought out a friendly and familiar coffee shop in the neighbourhood where I rested in a corner with my sketchbook, an Americano and a giant chocolate cookie.
I am still not feeling my best but I have pulled out of shock. I was able to work well with my third client this afternoon, do a little grocery shopping then walk home in the blizzard over the Granville Street Bridge where I enjoyed the frozen blast of snow on my face. I know that what I need right now is to rest, take care of myself and not see anyone. I have made myself unavailable on Skype, as there is a fellow in Mexico who wants to contact me and I have never met this person and don't feel it would be appropriate to disclose this kind of personal information.
I still feel joy and gratitude, despite the sadness and weariness. I know that the beauty of life far surpasses its ugliness and for every ugly little muscle dog and its ugly little owner there are many more who are lovely. I have still been saying hi to strangers, smiling, sharing a joke here and there.
This is the kind of mental health recovery for which I am so grateful: not that bad things no longer happen to me or affect me. Of course they do. I otherwise wouldn't be human. But I can understand better what is happening to me, refocus on the beauty around me and in others and simply give myself time to rest and recover.
Even though mental illness is still greatly stigmatized we are making progress against it. I have chosen life and joy and instead of ignoring the sadness I simply embrace it, integrate it and move on, rising up a bit stronger and more resilient. Even though mental illness has marked my life, my experience of illness and recovery has equipped me to be there for others as they also struggle towards wellness.
We rise together and for this we are thankful.
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