There was a day when I knew I recovered fully. Deeply. To the core. For good.
I felt how little broken Natasa finally got her peace and she stopped kicking a fuss, asking for attention and for healing. On that day I told my husband: " Babe, I feel it. I am done. I recovered. I feel at peace.I feel the space. Mental illness is all gone. Now there is room for a baby. I know it will happen."
Jono was so happy he radiated happiness miles around.
I recovered couple of years ago. Just before we moved to New Zealand. But this was deeper. This was final.
There are two definitions of recovery: One can learn to live with mental illness, to manage symptoms. One can live full and fulfilling life, maintaining hope. OR One can live with complete absence of mental illness. One can live full and fulfilling life, maintaining hope.
I learned how to live with my mental illness before we moved to New Zealand.
I leaned to manage my anxiety, depression, fears and disordered personality. I saw hope and I had some peace. I was hopeful about the future. I was able to see past "this moment" and get excited about next week, next month.
There was still no sign of healthy confidence and decent self esteem, self reliance and self respect. I did not have a clue of who I am, and anxiety was still part of my everyday.
But I was alive. And I didn't hate myself. I had pretty healthy relationship with food, and my borderline personality disorder was fading away slowly but surely. Voices in my head took turns instead of demanding attention all at once. Some days they didn't question me at all. I had faith in my marriage. I wasn't paranoid anymore. I could see beyond myself. I saw Jono for who he is, not for what he can do for me.
I was also very unsure of myself. Afraid to speak up. Afraid to voice my opinion.I let people walk all over me and I let them use me. I had no healthy boundaries, either I gave too much or I burnt the bridges and built the walls. I relied on people to fix me, make me feel good. Be the way that it is the most comfortable for me. I fraught with them because of that.
I worked through another depression. It was situational. Anxiety increased. Being in a new country with zero self esteem and confidence is hard. I was too afraid to show myself outside. I was afraid to talk to people. I was afraid of being judged. I didn't make any friends. I was unhappy. Afraid. Anxious. I compromised too much of myself, but at the same time I had no clue how much am I even compromising myself since I had no idea who I even am. But I knew how to deal with it. This time around I knew exactly how to take control over mylife again.
I changed a job. I started working in mental health for adults. I committed to daily meditation. I went "into my body" daily. I committed to feeling and processing all the fears despite the discomfort. One day at the time. It took me six months before I walked outside by myself, and another six to become really comfortable with it. I committed to "The Artist's Way" 12 week program twice. It helped a lot because It provided me with some structure. I read books "The power of Now" and "The Road Less Traveled" 10 more times, and I monitored my habits and behaviors and worked with them every day.
I payed close attention to my procrastination, and I classified it as "Addiction" just because I know how to deal with those. I monitored my time on a phone and online. I reintroduced and incorporated DBT skills into my daily life. I didn't skip a day. I worked my butt off. I looked for a long lost passion and my clients became my greatest inspiration. I worked through "people pleasing syndrome" and "being a control freak" which were both huge issues for me.
The list goes on.
But with each day, a little bit more of peace came into my heart. With each day I had better idea of who I am.
I learned about boundaries. I learned to let go. I learned to relax.I got to know myself pretty well. I learned what areas still need improvement and what are good to go.
It was September 2016 when I overcame depression and I had a pretty good idea about myself. We talked about a baby again. We knew we are getting close to a day when baby will happen. But I still felt randomly fat and ugly, and I still was slightly rigid with food. And one thing I knew for sure is that I dont want to carry any of these behaviors into my pregnancy and motherhood. I want to be strong and complete for my child. So I worked through that as well. I started making random breakfasts and random meals. It didn't take long for me to completely let go of all that. I guess I just needed a little push. And my self esteem and confidence increased even more. By that stage I could see the beauty in me. In my personalty which wasn't disordered any more, and in my physical beauty. By that stage I fully embraced my body. I thought it is beautiful and good enough. WIth all the stretchmarks and cellulite and fat around my hips and belly. My face is strong and beautiful with or without make up, and there is nothing wrong with me. I stopped wanting to be someone else and live differently. I finally welcomed my own self home. And guess what, I never looked back since.
Then my parents came for a visit in December. I was ready. I didn't fear. I didn't question anything and anyone. It was quite a journey for all of us, but nothing I couldn't handle. I had so much peace by that stage, that my parents were at peace too. I had an opportunity to talk to them about my mental illness for the first time in my life they listened. They heard me. They did not try to change my truth and my experience. They accepted it. Even my dad, he heard it all, and he didn't oppose. He didn't get angry. He just hugged me. My mom cried, listened and processed it all. She let it all go as well. Then she hugged me and said "I am sorry for the pain you wnet through and for the things we did wrong that caused you suffering." A hug and "I am sorry" was all I needed. Less than I though I needed from them. It was enough. There was so much love and so much forgiveness.So much healing the words can't describe. That hug was not for me. That hug was for a little Natasa inside me dying to be hugged this way by her mother and father. And finally, she got peace.
I told her "Go, little girl, rest. I got this. I will protect you now and always."
I recovered.
On that very night baby girl joined us.
We both knew we became pregnant.
Today, I am almost 33 weeks pregnant, with a very healthy baby girl. She is due on 4th of October.
I have loved every single day of my pregnancy so far and I have loved my body more than I ever hoped I would. I am growing and changing and I love it. I trust my body. I trust myself. I trust our marriage. Our unconditional love. I trust my recovery. Baby girl is coming into a very healthy and loving home. Nothing else matters.
We did well.
The circle is now complete.
I am sending all my love to you all out there, fighting your battle with mental illness. You will win. When you give up, forgive yourself. Have a glass of water, take a nap, and try again tomorrow.
Be at peace. xo
