Recovering, Not Recovered

“By talking about recovery as a straight shot from misery to contentment, we silence people whose journeys are non-linear.”

When people ask me how I “recovered” after an episode of bipolar disorder, I sometimes feel as if they are inspecting a piece of ancient pottery. I am suddenly being examined for thumbprints, toolmarks. “Oh, there’s the long list of drugs that did more harm than good.” “Look, there is some evidence of electro-convulsive therapy.” “Wow, look at all those therapists who were too kind to be effective.” “Here’s a faint imprint of intensive outpatient programs.”

They can’t see it all — the hands that put me back together, the smoothing I did myself. They can’t see the full process that recreated the shape of me. But they like to try — not to be rude. They are just curious. They want to hear stories of transformation from people with mental illness. They want to examine the brain, hear about when things were bad and when they got better.

They want to know how the incomprehensible can be shaped and molded into something we can live with, thrive with.

We can thrive with mental illness. There is life after a mental health crisis. There is some steadiness despite the tremors. There is energy after the dense fatigue that keeps me…