I recently spent my day writing final project reports. I wrote about how our project helped one state place peer recovery coaches in hospital emergency rooms to support people recovering from opioid overdoses. Another state expanded supported employment opportunities for transition-age youth. Several states created training and credentialing programs for peer recovery support specialists to help people enter and sustain recovery from mental health conditions and substance use disorders. Another state is re-examining and re-engineering their entire behavioral health crisis response system. We helped a U.S. Territory experiencing a substance use crisis take steps to establish their first-ever recovery community organization. We brought together adults in recovery with family members of adults with behavioral health disorders to discuss ways to improve supports for people in crisis.
As more of us explore ways to manage and respond to the stresses of everyday living, it can be helpful to look at approaches others have taken. One approach I have found helpful is mindfulness. Mindfulness can improve one’s physical, mental, emotional, and social health and well-being.
What is mindfulness? Mindfulness is the act of purposefully paying attention to what is happening in the present moment without judgment. I have read many articles about self-care and mindfulness and very few offer examples of how to incorporate mindfulness-oriented activities into everyday living, besides doing yoga – which isn’t something I, personally, enjoy. After thinking about how I try to be more mindful in my daily life, I have come up with three personal tips I find helpful:
Many forms of domestic violence have obvious physical manifestations. Emotional abuse is subtle and often goes unseen. The victim may not even recognize that they are being abused. Emotional abuse does not leave black eyes or broken bones, but it seriously damages self-esteem and leaves scars on your soul. It took me almost ten years to realize I was in this kind of abusive relationship, and even then, I was still taking responsibility for my abuser’s actions. It took another five years before I was willing to call it domestic violence.
My closest friends have often asked, “How could you, a strong independent woman, let that happen?” I don’t have an answer. It happened so gradually that I didn’t recognize it as abuse. To outsiders looking in, we had the perfect life. Slowly, however, I became isolated from my friends. I had little self-esteem and felt worthless. The only person I thought I could depend on was the person who was causing me to feel this way.
I often write about relationships between providers and people they serve. It is very easy to look at services and write about what is wrong and what needs fixing. However, I do think that there are more respectful and caring providers and agency personnel than not.
As a young adult, I was homeless. I had been in and out of hospitals and was discouraged about my chances of being successful in therapy. My moods were all over the place, and I was having intrusive memories. I was trying very hard to find housing. I showed up for appointments. I was so scared and angry at the possibility of being turned down that my intolerance for disappointment was reflected in my attitude. I was anxious and certain that no one wanted to help.
