Today marks 6 years to the day since my breakdown during my second year at university.

To me, this is the only milestone in my recovery that I do mark, as it was the first day I accepted that I needed help with regards to my mental health. I’ve had multiple diagnoses and episodes in my life since, some of which were perhaps worse than the one I experienced in 2013, but the day I accepted help truly was the beginning of a long road to recovery.

I wanted to write something poiniant and meaningful to mark this occasion however my mental health has ironically dipped this week. So instead I want to reflect on the realities of recovery not the inspiring, linear, Instagramable version we so often see.

Recovery for me largely refers to my desire to become mentally healthier and to learn skills to cope with the intense emotions I experience. I have long abandoned the notion that I will ever be symptom free, or that full recovery can be maintained for a lifetime. For some, perhaps this is the case, but not for me. Recovery has become a completely different ideal to me than it was 6 years ago. I don’t long to be at a point where I am a social butterfly, batting away life’s stresses with a smile, I simply want to do the best I can each day with whatever emotion or situation I face.

I now embrace the wobbles that come with recovery; the endless blips and days where the darkness fully takes hold. I accept this is part of a normal spectrum of human emotion, which is perhaps just amplified in line with my diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. But I don’t try and swim against the tide of feelings I experience, instead greeting even the most painful of emotions as an old friend. A friend who needs to be heard and tended to before being wished on its way again.

I accept the need to prioritise myself and my emotions, and to ensure I surround myself with those who make me feel heard and empowered, instead of dramatic and needy. To allow myself space to feel how I need to, and to rest when things become too much.

Most importantly of all I accept that recovery has no end. I have no goal in mind that will signify the end of my relationship with mental illness. I know I will have to continue to choose recovery daily, and work on improving and maintain my mental well-being. I see recovery as a friend I will climb with, sometimes fall with, for a very long time to come.

I’ve learnt a lot in 6 years, and could write something far more uplifting in a better headspace on my journey with recovery; how it’s the best thing I’ve ever done and every tear was so worth it etc. But I wanted to represent my real emotions on this 6th anniversary, and speak honestly about my on-going stumbles along the way.

Lorna

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