Drinking from the firehose

Reflecting on the beginning of our journey at Turnbridge I had no idea where it would go, how it would go and what it would entail. I knew her recovery was beginning to unfold but I could not see out of the darkness and pain and sadness and grief and uncertainty and fear I was feeling. Little did i know this would begin my journey in recovery as well. The one thing i was certain of was that I was out of options for how to manage this experience which i was convinced was just "typical teenage" behavior. They always say hindsight is 20/20 and now i know why. I could not see anything when I was in the flames, i could not see out, the smoke and noise the heat all kept me from any objective perspective and denial runs deep. I was just reacting and responding to the next crisis that came my way. I now know I am right where i am supposed to be, working hard "to keep my head where my feet are", working hard to "be grateful for the small things". Understanding that this "process is not linear", and its about "progress and not perfection".  one step at a time, one day at a time, one hour at a time one minute at a time you move forward. it feels like we took a 1,000 piece puzzle and threw it on the floor and piece by piece we are putting it back together. 

the parent support groups have been essential for me. the parent group is where i am getting tools for myself, processing this experience and sharing the good and the bad parts of how mental illness has impacted our entire family. it has given me strength to press on even on the dark days. The support group has offered me connections with other parents who are experiencing this journey as well. there are so many nuances to having a child in treatment. It is beyond comforting and validating to have parents who understand. it is an emotional roller coaster and the feelings I have experienced are depths of low and levels of high i have never experienced. the changes and progress i see are not the light-bulb, firework type of changes but subtle whispers that show me the progress. There are also moments of realization that help me identify the areas that still need work. There are also the moments that catch me off guard, the setbacks you weren't expecting and that is when i have to rely on myself to respond differently. The hardest part is there is no finish line. there is no end point to recovery, it is a life long monkey on your back that is always lurking for the opportunity to rear its ugly head. the only way to handle it is to practice those recovery skills every day, gratitude, presence, patience, compassion for her and myself. 

I will always laugh at myself thinking back to my first call to Tom, who has truly been like a guardian angel on this journey. When he answered my call i said my daughter just overdosed, but she is not struggling with addiction. somehow believing that if a substance addiction was not her challenge that somehow this process would be easier? i have come to realize (and she has too thank god) that addiction to substances or not, her need for treatment and recovery was just as crucial for her survival. It is the recovery process and journey, redeveloping a sense of self, working through your traumas and developing healthy coping that is essential. her poor coping were just symptoms of the true problem. 

the staff and her team at every point have been tremendous resources. they have offered advice, feedback, insight, perspective and support. When i say they it's because there are so many people and staff who are having a huge impact on the progress we are seeing, She herself is doing the work but the staff is lighting the path for her. I am beyond grateful for the therapists, case managers, support staff, nurses, academic team, kitchen staff, parent support staff, administration, discharge planners and everyone else who has interacted with my daughter or myself in some capacity. The saying "it takes a village" could not be more accurate and I owe everything we have learned to the Turnbridge team.  I have completely surrendered to the fact that they know best at this point. i am a student, learning how to adjust myself and show up differently. i know this program is changing my daughter and it is also changing our family as well. she will say it herself "i had to get here mom, i have a second chance at life and i'm not wasting any more time on the wrong things". the conversations we can now have warm my heart. despite how great the day, the conversation, the sign of progress, i remind myself that i am grateful right now in this very moment. i am learning to stay present for those moments because tomorrow, well who knows what tomorrow will bring. there are so many glimpses of progress, aspects of her coping where i see such a positive change, and then i remind myself its not linear. The changes, the progress i see today can feel totally different tomorrow. When those emotional hurdles she experiences occur, i brace myself. i know the road to home will be bumpy and i also know both she and I are different from when this journey started. 

We are going to have to get to "know" the updated versions of ourselves and each other. every conversation we have where there is depth I can see the progress. we are all still growing in this recovery process. This journey has been humbling, eye-opening, vulnerable, painful, at times empowering, sprinkled with gratitude and joy and most definitely uncharted. I am so grateful for the perspective, for the people i have met, the lessons i have learned, the insight i have gained, the skills i have acquired, the knowledge of this chronic disease, and all of it drives me to be a more compassionate human.