Healing & Recovery 101

Dear Day 101,

We meet early in the morning. I already have a looming apprehension about our introduction. Clouds have descended on the blue sky outside. So I refuse to shake your hand, because within my mind, there is a grayscale, too, one I must be wary of. If I lose focus long enough to reach out towards you, I might lose my footing, and then I’d be floating through the sky in a trance. What exactly I’d experience in the absence of gravity on this dreary day, I’m not too sure. However, the idea evokes a certain feeling, one that is both familiar and terrifying. I resent you, I suppose, for allowing this feeling to persist. You’ve brought with you a blanket of clouds that seem to have sucked the colour straight out of the world outside my window. How am I supposed to tap into optimism under duress such as this, with vitality nothing but a distant memory? My past selves are hidden between the dulled trees, awaiting the moment I admit that I’m sick of this ruse, and am willing to hand the wheel back over to the parts of me that seek to destroy peace. 

Remember the blue sky.

I still have a foot in both worlds, and it’s already a difficult balance. Half of me exists in the shadows, and the other half bends and contorts, trying to reach the sunlight. Try as I may to choose a certain path, both of my feet remain planted firmly in both worlds. From the outside, it appears that the half of me on a quest to reach the light is the more intelligent of the two, as sunlight is essential to growth in most living things. However, I’m not sure it’s that simple. I think there’s bravery in trying to look darkness in the eyes, willing oneself to endure an unfriendly environment, devoid of warmth and the certainty of survival. Bravery can also be foolish sometimes. 

These days, half of my stomach is sick. I miss the visceral experience of feeling before the line was drawn. I miss being whole. Even when I was broken down and barely hanging on, I felt like one person. I knew what my mission was: to get sober, to heal, to eradicate the self-pity and victim complex that I’d spent years watering and feeding so that those defects of character could grow. I wanted to have self-compassion, confidence, motivation, and purpose. Things that were nothing but distant ideas and pieces of my imagination. I envisioned my life looking exactly the way it does now. I fought hard to get here, likening it to a difficult hike, climbing a tall mountain. To wake up on Day 101 and realize I spent months doing nothing but lifting a foot and splitting myself in half is one of the most discouraging things I’ve ever seen. Now, I am nothing but pieces of a person, pieces that fight for the power of my mind, each one assuming that they know best. 

But I can’t live in this state. If I show the clouds my fear, they might hold me down and try to drown me. If I sense that I’m no longer safe to inhabit both of these worlds, I might give in to the shadows. It could kill me, standing still. If I have to fight another three months to take half a step further into the sunlight, I’ll do it. I’ll do it because I need to figure out what it feels like. I’ll do it because I have no other option, because that is what I set out to do. 

So, I turn to the reflections I wrote months ago to weigh them against my current experience. Today is the perfect day for Sobriety 101, Healing 101, a compilation of the most important things I’ve learned on my journey so far. Except I need to connect again with the things I’ve learned to compile my list, to look back into the shadows to become better acquainted with the light. 

I was perplexed as I read through some of my previous reflections, both published and unpublished. Why was my writing so much freer in the very early days? Why was my grasp of the English language so much more…. Nice? It goes back to my idea that suffering is the inciting incident for art and living. It’s the reason I can’t help but circle the same fucking idea over and over and over again. The clouds, the darkness, the void. Is that all that I am? How long will it take for me to release this, to move my stubborn foot over into the light? I can’t stand this waiting, this limbo. I know I need to surrender and look my suffering straight in the eyes, but what’s the difference between letting go, having compassion for my feelings, and holding on? When should each tactic be applied? At what point am I just enabling myself to dig deeper, and at what point am I stifling and burying the feelings that desperately want to be seen? Some days it feels clear, and other days, like today, it feels impossible to understand where my focus is supposed to be. 

There is still so much I don’t know, but this much I do know to be true: 

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Healing & Recovery 101

1. Keep an open mind, always be willing to change and adapt. 

2. Understand that you know nothing. Your perception of reality is jaded, it’s time to open yourself up to learning. If you knew everything, you wouldn’t have anything you felt called to “heal” 

3. Depression doesn’t hit a moving target. Don’t wait for motivation to find you. Motivation follows action. 

4. Rest must be one of your top priorities, without shame.

5. Run face first into fear, and learn that it won’t kill you. 

6. Isolation yields only one result: more isolation. Go out into the world and try to talk to people. You need community, togetherness, and connection, or you’ll implode. 

7. Recognize when your mind is trying to come in for the kill, and do the opposite of what it wants. 

8. You can’t sit around trying to heal yourself through thought. Movement, action, connection, honesty, befriending fear, participating in things, getting the fuck outside that is the only way to ensure healing. You can’t think your way into experience. 

9. Spend time in nature. No matter the weather. Do it without music in your ears. Smile at strangers if you see them. Listen to the birds. Think of the root system of the trees. Hug a damn tree, get hippie with it. 

10. Meditate, breathe, sit with it. Do it often. Practice mindfulness. Realize that you are not your thoughts. 

11. You can just decide. That’s right. You can literally just decide. You want to call yourself an artist? Great, you’re an artist. You want to be a writer? Do you write? Great, you’re a writer. You have a dream that feels unattainable? Try. Go after it. Decide that you will make it there. Don’t spend all of your time dreaming. Anything is possible. It’s just not easy. 

12. You may never understand why you drank, or why you still want to drink and get high despite how different and beautiful life becomes without numbing it out. You might never fully understand why you self-sabotage. You might just live with it for the rest of your life. Like feelings of self-pity, restlessness, hopelessness, and despair, get comfortable with it. Realize that those urges and feelings can exist without dictating your actions. 

13. It’s encouraged not to have any fucking clue what’s happening. That’s more fun than the comfort of being certain in your misery. 

14. Be kind to yourself, but also understand that this practice might take a lot of time to perfect. 

15. You can decide what working hard looks like. Right now, I’m working hard at rest. 

16. Do things you don’t want to do. Set a commitment you no longer want to follow through with? Unfortunately, unless we are literally bleeding out, we have to do it anyway. 

17. Sometimes, you will feel tired when you’re anxious. Your nervous system is overloaded and trying to shut down. Exercise can help. Meditation can help. Self-compassion helps. Quiet activities like reading help, too. Face the thing you’re anxious about and overcome it. Sleep is not always the solution.

18. In line with the above, learn to regulate your nervous system. Learn to be grateful for it, too. It’s trying to protect you and keep you alive. It isn’t your fault that you feel the way you feel or that you’re so dysregulated all the time, but you do have the power and responsibility to change that. Put away the damn phone and sit in silence for a while. Do things that make you feel good. 

19. Write. Write. Write. Write things you think suck. Write things you like. Create, because creating feels ten times better than consuming ever will. 

20. Give yourself permission to be part of the world. I used to feel like I wasn’t allowed to exist in certain spaces (most spaces outside of my home) but I have just as much a right to be here as everybody else. 

21. Learn to ask for help. Learn to lean on people. Learn that it’s a sign of strength. This too is a practice. 

22. Be fucking honest! All the little white lies you tell are draining you. It is not more convenient to fib just to get out of conversation or keep things moving, it’s killing you slowly. 

23. A lot of your misery is born out of a quest for validation. How can you validate yourself? Do you feel like shit today? Wonderful! Let it be. Keep living, but let it be. 

24. Stop looking for a saviour. Even within yourself. There is no saving somebody who’s looking to be saved. If you’re constantly searching  for that knight in shining armour, you’ll miss it, even when a hand is outstretched towards you, you won’t see it. What you’re actually looking for is strength—the strength to grab that hand and pull yourself up onto solid ground. 

25. Happiness is not a state of being. Happiness is a feeling. What you’re searching for is contentment. You want to feel safe and secure. That can be achieved. Bad days will never be eradicated. Uncomfortable feelings will always exist. How can you become more comfortable with allowing those feelings into your life? The more you accept the feelings you deem as “negative,” the easier it will be to accept the “positive.” Feelings are data. 

26. It’s all about balance. Balance your need to achieve and keep moving with your desire for rest. Balance your “forward motion” with days that are nothing more than days. Unfortunately, you are not living in a movie. Sometimes a day is just a day. 

27. Gratitude! Fucking gratitude! You’re going to absolutely hate it. You’re going to feel grateful for nothing at all some days. It’s a muscle, it’s a damn practice too. Eventually, it is easier to feel grateful, but it won’t come naturally at first. Write those lists every morning. Write out the things you’re proud of at night. Focus on the good, while holding space for the things that don’t feel so good. Two things can be true at once.

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Sunlight reaches the smallest of plants on the forest floor. How do they survive in the shadow of the tall trees? They just do. I can learn from them.

Twenty-seven things that I have learned. Twenty-seven things I didn't know before. 

Twenty-seven things to practice, make friends with, and invite into my life. I woke up and began writing while hung up on the weather, hung up on my first impression of Day 101. I was clinging to the idea that the waves of my journey would sometimes hold me down, and that this is dangerous, because I don't have the anatomy to breathe underwater. Yet I have found a way, because it's a practice. For me, all of this is. The gratitude, the mindfulness, the willingness, the compassion, the joy. It's all a practice. These things don't just come naturally, but I am tapping into the power I have inside of me. They don't just make defective humans. I don't think that's something that exists. If I continue to believe that I myself am defective, unfit for this life, what does that say about others around me? I uplift the collective by loving myself and teaching myself to grow around my pain. My perception of people becomes kinder, and the world becomes a nicer place to live, because I cultivate hope on a daily basis. This isn't ego, this is connection. What was ego, was the way I was living before. Believing my problems outweighed my duty to appreciate the things I am given, the people I meet, and the privileges I have. 

These last 101 days have been about collecting evidence, a trial run. That's okay, and it shouldn't be discouraging, because now, with my baselines hitting a more predictable state, I can begin the course. Today, I start by focusing on the foot that's touching the light, and the half of me that is trying to grow across spiritual lines. 

I will shake your hand now, Day 101, and meet you as you are. I'll give you my full attention with willingness and an open mind. Your clouds aren't so bad, I see that now. There's still colour out there in the trees if I choose to see it. I will say a good morning to the world, good morning to the birds outside my window, and most of all to you. We will spend 24 hours together, and then we may never meet again. I am determined to make it count. 

Let's do this day, Day 101. I'm fucking ready. 

Love, 

Charlotte