She begins

I am a freelance writer, who has chosen to start small. I do long  to have the courage to push beyond writing for local rags and magazines. 

This past five and a half years, I put a big chunk of my energy into recovery from something most people would call a "mental illness." 

With three years of  perspective since my last crisis, I no longer call it mental illness, largely because I can see its etiology.  My family, who also breathe more freely these days, also won't allow me to call it an illness.  If I use the word "vulnerability", I get agreement.  I find that my vulnerability is most keen in summers. Each summer that I live in freedom from crisis, is a blessing for me. 

 For me, the words, "spiritual crisis" or "spiritual malaise" work.  For me, a crisis results only under conditions that create a perfect storm, when several variables conspire together simultaneously, and I am unable to manage any of the variables productively. What variables? A few come to mind: emotions (anxiety run amok), hormones (peri-menopause), endocrine (very low blood sugar) and maybe the residue of childhood trauma (but because I can't put my own finger on that, I don't like to bring hidden trauma to the discussion).

One day I will write  about my so-called vulnerability, to see if my exploring words speak to others. I have a truth that few people I know will agree with. Sometimes I feel that were I to share my understanding with other folks I meet, particularly those who have real diagnoses I would be a threat to their recovery (so I try to keep quiet). Of those who treat folks with diagnoses (psychiatrists, mental health professionals and conventional doctors), most would shake their heads at my story. Only when I feel particularly strong, articulate and in very open-minded company, do I share my own understanding of my mental health journey. 

God willing, on another day, when I am not nursing  a headache,  I will find my own way to share that does not engender argument.

What I do know is that since returning to a recovery path that uses the twelve steps, I have found myself more at peace with my vulnerability and, perhaps paradoxically, I find myself whole and well.

Zena