What I've Learned in Recovery

         Nine years ago I suffered my second nervous breakdown. After losing a wonderful job, being diagnosed with asthma and  being divorced from my husband of 19 years, (His idea not mine.) I still had kids to raise. But one day everything just stopped. My brain shut off, my emotions dried up and for two weeks, I couldn't do anything. Couldn't think, react, nothing. My youngest daughter, then still in high school, quit school and got two jobs just to barely keep us in food and a place to live. After about 2 weeks I started coming out of it enough to realize what was going on. Then he started calling, whining about being alone. The first time I said that I wasn't the one who left me, he did. After that, whenever he called, I automatically said the same thing in self-defense. He finally got the message and found someone else who only temporarily put up with his garbage. I then began to start functioning. I started taking my medicine and looked for another job. I tried to walk away from the utter devastation I had experienced.

         Slowly I tried for force myself to move. I got a job helping someone.  I knew that since I still had my daughter, I had to do something that made sense. I moved out of the apartment complex and into another one. For the longest time, I had no phone. It was easier to try to heal if he had no way to contact me.

         I began going back to church and reading my scriptures. I couldn't participate, because I was still devastated. Once I got through that phase, and realized my help was needed, I found myself coming out of the worst of the fog. It took years before things got better, but they have.

         I determined that instead of finding another husband, I needed to heal. I went to church, prayed, read my scriptures and did what I could to get through the day correctly. I took no illegal drugs, alcohol nor smoked anything. I dealt with every painful moment one at a time. I came to realize that God was still on my side and would walk with me through this ordeal. Instead of crying in my cereal, I started looking at all the positives God had blessed me with. Soon I noticed that at every hurtle, it was easier to get over it. I went to counseling for a while, but soon found out that they were just saying the same things they said 6 weeks prior. I needed something, more one-on-one. The psychiatrist at the time had too much going on to listen to me. He just asked about drugs and dismissed me as if I were something insignificant.

         Through it all, God had never left my side. I kept counting my blessings and doing everything I knew to do that was right. I kept to myself, but kept busy with helping my neighbor and going to church. During this time, I suffered minor setbacks, but they were not as strong as before.

         Finally after Christmas I felt myself slip back into depression because of something minor. I told myself that I was not going down this road again, and said it loudly enough that I'm sure the whole neighborhood heard. That was two months ago. My brain still fogs over every now and then but it's clearing up and now I feel freed from my prison.

         I am looking for work now, and have begun an exciting adventure working with more intensity on my family history. I look to the future and when others talk about the past, I tell them, I can't go back down that road again. My focus is forward, upward and onward.

         During this experience, I've learned to rely on God and His love for me. I trust Him implicitly and know that, come what may, He's not leaving. I know that He lives and all his promises are sure. I've become the person I needed to be years ago. Sure, I have glitches, but I'm committed to the road I'm currently walking on. I will succeed and the only part of the past that matters is my children, and my mother. I'm headed in the right direction now.