Recovery4Me
VIP Member
Self-acceptance
I have spent over the years, much time in fine-tuning a serious stint of years in self-elected therapy. I occasionally joke about my mind being my Lamborghini expenditure. Between educational pursuits to be a papered pup and therapy, it would equal a sizable investment. This in hindsight (for me) feels sad as the system or community of elders in place could not evolve with the global blending of cultures and outsiders were needed. My books, articles printed from Harvard Medical, various held authorities (ie: hope for recovery) became my family and ideology. Recovery…from something without an agreed upon name.
I desperately wanted acceptance. There were so many barriers back then during my time for equality. Perhaps there still are but I no longer worry about my mixed heritage and not fully being this or not being fully that race, as some of our world leaders with such became accepted for themselves as an entity. Religiosity instead of personal relationship with a higher power is no longer tolerated. My salary matching the other gender’s is closer to being equal (by our own gov stats). I have seen many changes even in the structuring of coding labels within DMS, therapy and within the new acceptance of mental health pursuit-as my years are strong in number.
Yet for all my veneer, effort or bravado…my spots did not rub out. My self-stigma and inner critic kept me embedded within a head-story similar to that of Pinocchio or of Data in Star Trek. I wanted to feel human or something that matched the subliminal messages in the barrage of media: the phantom illusion of “they”.
Even as I supported others, in comparison to their combat trauma…my story felt small. “Perhaps,” I theorized,” I had neuro-mapped mine away.” But as I stand within this site, this community of acceptance, I realize no one here is minimizing anyone. No one here treats me as damaged goods or not good enough because of_____. The rub IS solely from within: my inner critic.
I think today is a good day for total self- acceptance and to be counted among the many whom are not afraid to say…I have complex trauma & PTSD.
Thank you all for being authentic and loving to so many during your pain, daily victories and journey. To me, from where I come from- that is the true meaning of tribe.
Peace, blessings and light.
I have spent over the years, much time in fine-tuning a serious stint of years in self-elected therapy. I occasionally joke about my mind being my Lamborghini expenditure. Between educational pursuits to be a papered pup and therapy, it would equal a sizable investment. This in hindsight (for me) feels sad as the system or community of elders in place could not evolve with the global blending of cultures and outsiders were needed. My books, articles printed from Harvard Medical, various held authorities (ie: hope for recovery) became my family and ideology. Recovery…from something without an agreed upon name.
I desperately wanted acceptance. There were so many barriers back then during my time for equality. Perhaps there still are but I no longer worry about my mixed heritage and not fully being this or not being fully that race, as some of our world leaders with such became accepted for themselves as an entity. Religiosity instead of personal relationship with a higher power is no longer tolerated. My salary matching the other gender’s is closer to being equal (by our own gov stats). I have seen many changes even in the structuring of coding labels within DMS, therapy and within the new acceptance of mental health pursuit-as my years are strong in number.
Yet for all my veneer, effort or bravado…my spots did not rub out. My self-stigma and inner critic kept me embedded within a head-story similar to that of Pinocchio or of Data in Star Trek. I wanted to feel human or something that matched the subliminal messages in the barrage of media: the phantom illusion of “they”.
Even as I supported others, in comparison to their combat trauma…my story felt small. “Perhaps,” I theorized,” I had neuro-mapped mine away.” But as I stand within this site, this community of acceptance, I realize no one here is minimizing anyone. No one here treats me as damaged goods or not good enough because of_____. The rub IS solely from within: my inner critic.
I think today is a good day for total self- acceptance and to be counted among the many whom are not afraid to say…I have complex trauma & PTSD.
Thank you all for being authentic and loving to so many during your pain, daily victories and journey. To me, from where I come from- that is the true meaning of tribe.
Peace, blessings and light.
