We often celebrate big accomplishments like getting a new job, becoming CEO, winning first place, or becoming valedictorian of your class. Yet we often overlook the small victories that get us to where we are. While struggling with my mental illness, I learned that it’s the small steps that got me to recovery and keep me in recovery.
During college I had hit rock bottom, and I overlooked my small accomplishments. I focused on big accomplishments like passing classes with high grades, getting a degree in journalism, and going on to a four-year college. I thought if I achieved those goals, I would be a success. What I didn’t see was my small accomplishments like getting out of bed to go to classes despite not sleeping at night and feeling fatigue, making it to class despite getting physically sick each morning, passing my classes despite being an emotional wreck and suicidal, and deciding to ask for help when I could no longer go on.
As an adult I learned how important it is to celebrate the small steps I took to move forward to recovery. I celebrated the step I took to get help when I found myself slipping back down that hole again. It took strength to see that I was having problems and to recognize I could not handle them on my own. I turned to a program through my job to help me find a therapist. I celebrated that accomplishment with self-care. I took time to be alone and take care of myself with rest.
Getting up each morning to go to work was challenging. I struggled to sleep at night, and when I finally fell asleep it seemed like it was only minutes before my alarm went off. I wanted to stay in bed and sleep my day away. I also wanted to pretend the world didn’t exist, but I forced myself to get up. I showered to wake myself up, I drove to work with the windows open and I yawned the day away, but I did it. That was a big step forward and an achievement worth celebrating.
It was hard to get through a day of work with a smile on my face when I was dying inside. I wanted to cry and hide in a corner, but instead I did my job and pretended I was fine. Work, life, and living were too much to bear. Making it through a day of work seemed impossible. I wanted to go home as soon as I entered the door, but instead I did my job. I celebrated my ability to keep working when I could barely make it through a day.
When my ex-boyfriend kicked me out of the house, I was a mess. I was deeply depressed, self-injuring, and suicidal. It would have been easy to give up on life. I went into a mental health hospital with little strength to fight, but I did not give up. I wanted to get better. I started journaling, attending therapy appointments, and working hard to get out. I chose then that I wanted to get better. I could have easily given up, but I chose to fight and I got out of the hospital in a week. I celebrated my steps forward.
To continue my journey to recovery I had to go to therapy, a psychiatrist and group therapy. Finding the right therapist was hard. I went to one who told me to think happy thoughts and I would feel better. This made me feel frustrated, alone, and misunderstood. I could have easily given up on therapy, but I didn’t. I went back to that program through work to find another therapist. Funny thing is I met with a man who was married to the therapist who told me to think happy thoughts. It was embarrassing, but he was kind and found me someone else to talk to. The other person found me a really good therapist. I celebrated my determination to find the right help and not to give up.
When I was self-injuring, a co-worker gave me a goal of going one month without self-injuring and if I made it, she would throw me a party. I was addicted to self-injuring. I thought it was the only way I could cope with the agony inside me. Quitting seemed impossible, but I was determined. Many times, I found myself wanting to hurt myself, but I pushed forward. I leaned on new coping techniques and journaling to get me through that month. When I made it, my co-worker threw me a big party with my friends at a restaurant. Now I am twenty-four years injury free.
It’s the small steps and accomplishments that move you forward in the journey towards recovery and through recovery. Celebrate each victory no matter how small it is. It can be as little as getting out of bed or taking a shower. Each step is important and is part of the recovery process.
I still celebrate the small steps I take in my recovery process. I celebrate when I make it through rough days without falling down the hole, I celebrate learning new coping skills to get through another day, I celebrate how far I have come and I celebrate each step I take to move forward. Each small step forward helps me celebrate in the light of recovery.
What are some steps you have celebrated in your recovery process? Put your answers in the comments. This is a safe place to share your experiences and feelings. Your story can help others.
