Reposted from Mental Health America's Mental Health Month 2025 Planning Guide

While one in five people experience a mental health condition each year, every single one of us has a mind to take care of. Furthermore, mental health is not just a personal issue—it's a societal one. And the need for action has never been greater.

This May during Mental Health Month, it's time to move beyond awareness and take meaningful steps towards better mental health for ourselves and our communities.

Take Action Today

Start with Self-Care - Your mental health is an investment in your future. Take a moment right now to check in with yourself:

• Take a free, anonymous mental health screening
• Explore self-care practices that work for you – whether it's meditation, exercise, or creative pursuits
• Remember, seeking professional help is a sign of strength, not weakness

Engage Your Community - Mental health thrives when communities come together:

• Share your story – break down stigma through the power of personal experiences in your conversations
• Join or support local mental health initiatives
• Check in on friends, family, and neighbors – a simple "How are you really doing?" can make a world of difference

Advocate for Change - Your voice matters:

• Join the MHA Advocacy Network to receive alerts on critical mental health issues
• Contact your elected officials – urge them to support increased funding and access to mental health services
• Educate others about the importance of mental health care in your community

Resources at Your Fingertips

Visit mhanational.org/may for a wealth of information, tools, and resources to support your mental health journey and advocacy efforts.

This Mental Health Month, let's not just talk about mental health – let's take action. Whether it's a small step for yourself or a giant leap for your community, every action counts.

Together, we can turn awareness into action and create lasting change for mental health in America.

by Kara Green, Parent

April 8, 2025

The complexities of Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID) have profoundly shaped my life and my daughter’s life over the past seven and a half years.

When my daughter was two and a half years old, a childcare provider asked why I was sending so much food with her for lunch. I explained that I noticed she wasn’t eating what I sent, so I thought she might be bored and wanted to give her more variety. At age three, during a playdate at a friend's house, the mom offered my daughter various dinner options. The only thing she would eat was chicken nuggets. Until I said that out loud, I hadn't realized how particular she was.

As a parent, you often hear from others about how picky toddlers can be. When my daughter turned four, we attended her annual well-child appointment. The doctor, slightly condescendingly, showed me on her hand what a healthy plate of food should look like, emphasizing the protein and vegetable ratio. She felt the need to give me this information due to my daughter’s slightly higher BMI. At almost 45 years old, I would have had to live under a rock not to know what a healthy plate should consist of. This doctor was one of three who shamed me for my daughter's BMI rather than asking about her food intake.

When my daughter was four, I started noticing tricky behaviors, such as refusing to put on her socks and other sensory issues. A therapist explained sensory processing disorder to me, and I decided to look into it. At her five-year well-child appointment, I requested a consultation with an occupational therapist, which led to her diagnosis of sensory processing disorder. I also consulted with a complex care doctor; I explained that my daughter needed to be cued for every bite she ate. She wasn’t eating on her own. He suggested writing a letter to her school to ask them to help que her to take bites during lunch.

Over the next year, I continued discussing her feeding issues with a therapist. One day, the therapist handed me information on ARFID. My daughter was six years old by then. It was a relief to have a name for her complex issue, and she was diagnosed with ARFID shortly after. Unfortunately, ARFID is so new to the DSM-5 (2013) and the healthcare industry that there are no suitable proactive protocols in our country.

But that didn’t stop me. I created a great protocol with a good team, including a complex care doctor, dietitian, occupational therapist, and speech therapist who conducts the feeding sessions.

ARFID often presents in individuals with co-occurring diagnoses such as autism spectrum disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, interoception issues, and sensory processing disorder. Not all providers are aware of this disorder, so if you are questioning your child’s food intake, please consider looking at the criteria for diagnosis. I was naively thinking that the schools would help my daughter out of the kindness of their hearts. It doesn’t work that way. I had no idea that it would end up being a bigger struggle. She has attended three schools now and I have had to advocate significantly with all three schools to get them to help her with this situation. Hopefully I am bringing more awareness to ARFID.

This journey has been very challenging for both me and my daughter. I have learned so much about both of us, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. She is the love of my life, and I am so lucky to have such an amazing human in my life.

By Nikki Russell

July 2, 2024

Harm reduction involves guiding individuals toward recovery and giving them a second chance at life. The United States' integrated recovery system claims responsibility for the healing process. The disease model suggests that addiction is a natural allergy, and having the condition for life means that people are encouraged to participate in a 12-step healing process, which offers a legitimate path to recovery. This involves regularly attending meetings, working through the 12 steps, and helping other individuals with alcoholism to keep their addiction in check. On the other hand, the harm reduction model takes a different approach to treating individuals struggling with addiction. Harm reduction is a public health model in which the goal may be abstinence. Still, there are smaller steps that one could take to approach the intersection of addiction and recovery. Embracing harm reduction enables peer support specialists to connect with their peers.

A peer support specialist creates an environment for the healing process. There are many valid perspectives on the healing journey. Religion leans on prayer, sacrament, exorcism, and anointing with oil to heal the mind, body, and spirit. Energy Healers transfer energy into the body as the vitality that accumulates negative energy, opening up blockages through the emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual outpour that can cause illness. The unblocking or healing of the energy system happens through different modalities such as acupuncture, Healing Touch, Reiki, and Therapeutic Touch. Peer Support Specialists rely on lived experience, creating mutuality that leads to trust. Modern perspectives require many new perspectives, like the recovery model, to support those suffering and recognize the great need to meet people where they are to achieve wellness.

Harm reduction aims to minimize negative social and physical consequences and provide hope to individuals. The disease model emphasizes abstinence as the primary component of a successful recovery program. A relapse is a significant obstacle in a recovery plan and often occurs with emotional, mental, and lifestyle factors or triggers. The inability to maintain abstinence can lead to feelings of hopelessness and activate harmful consequences. Harm reduction demonstrates that many individuals are living in an environment of adverse effects, functioning in survival mode without realizing it; this is where harm reduction excels; by allowing a person to enter less traumatic moments could help them gain clarity. If abstinence is a requirement for a large community of people, recovery may never reach them. The central harm reduction principles are to keep the client alive, sustain their health, and help them achieve their life goals. The main objective of harm reduction works because we see the peer and their needs as essential rather than fitting them into a societal box. Harm reduction combines a spiritual solution of accepting people where they are and a scientific evidence-based practice incorporating health into a recovery plan one day at a time.

Beginning the journey of the healing process in harm reduction is about accepting people where they are and recognizing not everybody fits into the disease model box. Recovery is a healing process of restoration to mind-body wholeness; recovery may not begin after or because of treatment but may be a part of the consistent recovery process; just as the Alcoholic goes to meetings for treatment, a daily reprieve, a pregnant woman may need to accept medically assisted treatment (MAT) for her long-term recovery to help manage cravings, withdrawal symptoms, and keep her baby healthy.

Adopting a harm reduction mindset creates a healing atmosphere outside the box. When peer support specialists meet their peers halfway, they offer them a more holistic approach, reduce stigma, and help them initiate healing. Religion, energy healers, and Peer Support Specialists contribute to harm reduction by blending evidence-based practices and spirituality to create the best outcome. Bringing compassionate solutions to people allows them to take responsibility for their lives on their own terms. Considering peers is critical when determining if they need harm reduction versus the disease model of addiction. Recovery has many pathways that deserve a Peer Support Specialist's attention to achieve a broad spectrum of healing modalities that can help people achieve a long-term recovery on their terms.

For further research, check out these websites:

National Harm Reduction Coalition

Pregnancy and Substance Use: A Harm Reduction Toolkit - National Harm Reduction Coalition

By Nikki Russell, Recovery Programs Coordinator

June 12, 2024

Recovery is the story of my life. Textbook Psychology explains why my thoughts, behavior, senses, and emotions function without cause. That is, until you dive into the ocean of the heart, exploring love's complex and hidden world. Recovery helps me know that the only person I can truly change is me. Still, I can positively affect the world if I am willing to make that change. I have learned that recovery is vital in life and will positively influence the future.

I use recovery to achieve fulfillment. Abraham Maslow's insights on the hierarchy of needs suggest that when all primary conditions are intact, one can establish certain freedoms to gain happiness. Recovery proclaims that being kind, big-hearted, and living in the moment can produce life results that lead to gratitude. The foundation of my personal life is spirituality, which supports a life in recovery. The journey toward a fulfilled life can be trodden with potholes of temptations of instant happiness that can lead to suffering. When people do not consider their values of a well-lived life, high regard for self is lost, and kindness exploits a self-served goal. An outcome of recovery is in the depths of character, reflecting the fulfillment factor as multi-faceted with many qualities that appear as the person. One of the most profound character traits of a second chance at happiness is courage, a willingness to face fears that conditioned thought patterns convince a person are genuine. A person's need to belong is to gain self-acceptance by gauging if the culture they belong to is supportive. It takes courage to move against the conditioned thoughts that classically reintroduce themselves as triggers, promoting protection from love rather than fear. A positive life is not always a reflection of a well-lived life, which is instrumental in my recovery. Fulfillment comes when I am brave enough to face my truths and dare to change them. Recovery helps me navigate the rugged road from serving myself for survival to assisting others for fulfillment.

I use recovery to help bridge the gap between science and spirituality. My work as a Peer Support Specialist promotes connecting the science of addiction to the solution of recovery. Recovery makes great leaps toward merging two vital processes of spirituality and science. We cannot ignore an aspect of a balanced life by looking at only one dynamic in addiction and mental health, especially when people experience recovery. Spirituality brings hope by surrendering control and replacing fear with love. A Peer Support Specialist understands the depth of recovery's purpose in holistic health. There is proof that mindfulness practices, such as yoga, art, and walking in nature, reduce stress and help with past traumas that an individual's body cannot process without external guidance. The peer support specialist is a credible source that a peer can trust, allowing recovery principles to become habitual and beginning an internal process that helps heal. Recovery plays an important role here; the values of bravery, ethics, and trust are integral parts of a balanced life, giving me a sense of well-being. One of the struggles I encounter in recovery and the healing process is to thrive spiritually in a scientific world; recovery helps me answer this question and discover my core motivator in life: to know that science and spirituality are two sides of the same coin; I cannot have one without the other. Learning the lessons that life provides me with compassion and belief allows me to live what I preach. Although spirituality is not the cure-all and is more useful when balanced with science, the evidence of its stability in my professional and personal life is a powerful living reminder that bridging the gap between science and spirituality is a path worth pursuing.

I use recovery to incorporate myself into each life challenge to gain knowledge and expand my world. Perfection is not the point, but it is the process of learning. The values of motivation, which psychologists call intrinsic motivators, are internal and extrinsic, external to oneself, and guiding dreams. Extrinsic motivators, such as public recognition, can suffocate inherent motivators, like a desire for personal development. Giving language a musical context could be like learning from a creative viewpoint. Instead of looking at things as one-dimensional, we could see a number as a dance move, a word as color, and a movement as a shape. I learned to follow my heart and live from my heart space, creating an authentic life experience that validates what is essential in my life. Authenticity can be challenging; it is a dense process of clearing old programs. However, the struggle is worth the creative process of becoming a seeker of truth. In the past, I have felt that I enjoyed the mystery of life; I did not need to know how my brain functioned to be successful in living. Yet, learning can be childlike; innocence emerges from the depth of concern, and curiosity takes over and brings joy back into life (Bain, 2013). Instead of memorizing a Quote, I explore the world around me and discover how it relates to my life. Recovery has helped reframe my thought process to understand better who I am in this great, big world. Recovery allows me to consider, dig deeper into the truth, and proclaim my values compassionately.  Regarding my career, I will embrace every challenge as a dance to lead; sometimes, I may step on a toe, but I am grateful for the freedom to learn a new step.

I extensively utilize recovery principles, which apply to all areas of my life. They have given me a deep understanding, and I would not have experienced a change in perspective without them.

Reflecting on how recovery has informed my professional and personal life and how it will positively affect my future is insightful. Recovery influences my personal life by being kind, having good character, and having values to maintain a foundation of spirituality to live a fulfilling life. It allows me to build a bridge between science and spirituality to promote a balance in my peer support career. A kindred spirit provides an authentic learning experience that will affect change within me and create change in the world. My life is a living book telling a story of triumph that I care enough to explore through my recovery. As Krentzman proclaims, the wind must blow, a bird must sing, and I, a student of life, must learn.

Nikki Russell, Recovery Programs Coordinator

June 4, 2024

I used to believe I had no unique gifts or talents to offer the world. I lamented the belief that happiness could not be found in my work; it had to be uncovered in my hobbies. Work was to be something I trudged through to get a paycheck utterly separate from my authenticity. As I forged a path through the business world, I gained many external accolades from my professional environment that fulfilled a sense of accomplishment but did not replenish my heart.

I had a deep desire to promote human welfare. I understood the suffering in the world; the wounding I experienced made me sensitive to it. I put being a humanitarian on a bucket list and carried on with business as usual. It is interesting how the universe attempted to show me my purpose, bringing me people who needed support. When I look back, it is crystal clear that my work in this life is to be a bridge to hope. The mask I wore hid the pain of my childhood, yet the people who had soul resonance with my suffering saw right through the mask and showed up in droves. As I sought, trudged, and dug for my destined career path, I did not see what was in plain sight; my most genuine desire hid behind pain and a life I was constructing to appear satisfied.

The road less traveled always felt dangerous because it meant following my heart, which usually led to aloneness. I was a closet addict; my happiness facade was worth not going through the pain of rejection, and the people who showed up for support represented "the me" I was trying to suppress. My artificial life triggered the authentic girl inside that, yes, had much pain but desperately needed to heal. With each year that passed, it became more and more painful to live a counterfeit life. It manifested as the abandonment of everything I created in an attempt to avoid the pain of my past. Addiction, the major destructor of life, leaves in its trail nothing except a spec of oneself that, if willing, will be used to rebuild a life of authenticity.

That spec meant everything to me; it held a second chance at life. The opportunity to be brave and courageous and walk down the road less traveled. Hope is an exciting experience because it shines the light of a bright future but holds everything a person needs to heal to get there. It says, "If you're willing to face some pretty unappealing facts about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld." Hope is the seed of the authentic life, but it only comes with much work. The gut-wrenching process called recovery opened my heart and led me on my destined path. My traumatic childhood, the years spent running from it, and the destruction of the mask was for a great purpose. My life meant more than I could have imagined; my lived experience could provide hope to somebody who didn't know grace was possible. Grace is a natural flow with what life offers, good, bad, or ugly, and finding the strength to see, feel, and release it.

With recovery came an examination of life experiences instead of investments in beliefs. I had developed a belief about myself and how I felt I needed to function in the world to be accepted. Knowing myself came with authenticity and the development of strength, resiliency, and courage to live without needing to fit in. I have discovered that I was not created to mold or conform to the masses. I was made to model recovery and compassion even in the face of those who deny me their approval. This understanding does not mean that all of a sudden, my life is problem-free; in fact, the opposite is true. The world has not changed, but my inner experience has. Becoming a Certified Peer Support Specialist validates my recovery experience and allows me the freedom to live a life that aligns with my soul, yet it does not always match up with the belief system of the world. Today, I am honored to face my fears, trembling and shaking, to validate an inner voice alive and well with something to add to life's dialogue.

My experience working as a Peer Support Specialist has evolved me into my authentic self. It has challenged the unhealed parts of me and demanded growth. Peer Support is about learning to stand in your power during the storms of emotions arising from past memories. Peer Support is a mirror that reflects your most tremendous human potential. It allows you to find yourself beyond the wounding, symptoms, and masks. We learn skills that we perform professionally, like DAP notes, recovery planning, and system regulations. Still, our actual value lies in our lived experience. It cannot be taught in exchange for a degree, systemized for protocol, or used as a treatment for mental health. It is not thought-based or a concept to be published. It cannot be traded for money, healing, or wisdom because it is experiential. It is so good that it cannot be measured, weighed, or theorized. It is the last of its kind, and professional systems and education cannot reproduce the awe-inspiring, gut-wrenching, and spirit-stretching that the experience of a Peer Supporter must deliver.

The expected job growth in the addiction field is anticipated to grow by 18% from 2022-2032 (Best Colleges, 2024). The addiction recovery field has evolved to include Peer-based services and recovery-oriented systems of care that extend the continuum of care and allow people to establish long-term sobriety. A Peer Support Specialist in Montana exists under the Behavioral Health umbrella, enhancing traditional treatment models with evidence-based practices. The road less traveled on the Peer Support Specialist path provides the magic that treatments, interventions, and medications cannot provide. Remember how vital you are to the recovery movement.

Choosing a career as a Certified Behavioral Health Peer Support Specialist is more than just a valid choice-it's a deeply impactful one. This role uniquely harnesses the power of lived experience to foster recovery, dismantle stigma, and cultivate more vital, more empathetic communities. As a CBHPSS, you play a pivotal role in society, offering a meaningful and fulfilling career path for those committed to aiding others on their recovery journey. By embarking on this career, you become an indispensable part of the community, bolstering its resilience and strength (This paragraph generated by Chat GPT, 2024).

By Nikki Russell, Recovery Development Coordinator

May 4, 2024

Until I know the nature of my mind, I cannot understand what mental health is. What is the fundamental nature of the mind? Defining the nature of the mind is a debatable subject for scientists, and it offers many convincing theories. The same is valid for mental health conditions; there are subtle differences between different scientific studies, yet the most widely accepted is in the Medical/Biological and Psychological perspectives, which posit mental illness as a disease or a disorder of the brain, hence the need for a diagnosis. Typical treatments include medications, interventions, lifestyle changes, therapies, and psychoanalysis. I am grateful for the advancement of science because mental health often requires medical treatment, but have we thrown the baby out with the bath water? The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) is the medical bible for diagnosing mental health. The DSM is an impressive guidebook for providers to define "what is wrong with me." Putting a label on "my problem" suggests a rigid definition that compels an identity of "unwell." The stigma that follows the diagnosis can be as skeptical as what the symptoms mean. Let me see if I got this right: a diagnosis invites medication with side effects that are often worse than the original symptoms, stigmatization that locks me into a lie that I believe, and a broken system trying to tell me that I am the problem.

I am grateful for scientific research that has advanced medicine. But prescribing me an identity that pushes me further into a toxic collective thought system is not what I call freedom. All those years of my addiction were self-medicating the problem of me, the symptoms of trauma that predicate substance use disorder. I was in a pattern of trying to fix life, not a rough patch but the whole of it. It seems that we are treating symptoms and not the person, "Here is a healthier way to medicate your trauma and stop acting out," But "I am still NOT well." The core issue of the problem is still being masked over; only I can now act more appropriately for society. I do not cry or yell outwardly, but I am still frustrated and depressed. I don't use drugs anymore, but I still feel hollow inside. I have my child back, but I am still not present with her or myself.

These words are valid topics to consider during May, Mental Health Awareness Month. We should advocate for proper support of the core issue of mental health, which is "Stop trying to fix me; I am not broken." I am NOT my diagnosis; I am a unique individual with different ideas, lifestyles, and behaviors, one that society had a hand in conditioning. When I remember back to my childhood, I was oppressed economically, medically, socially, and emotionally by a community that transferred their emotional and mental life experience onto me from their past experiences. I come from a long line of defiant, poor, frustrated, well-meaning humans who only tried to protect me from my environment. My life experience leaves me curious, and understanding the system and how it operates leaves me saddened for the many people who are going through the exact suffering I went through. Controlling my behavior and acting happy is not wellness; it is oppression from a system that does not know how to love.

So, what is the answer? I am not a doctor, so I am unqualified to prescribe solutions, but I can tell you what has worked for me. Something that is not validated by science yet has transformed life, mental health, and trauma. Is my brain abnormal? Yes, did it happen because of genetics or a predisposition to addiction? Maybe that is a piece of the puzzle.

Moreover, I believe I was sealed into an internal trauma response system that society precipitated, which was the catalyst to recovery.

My recovery is multi-dimensional and is of a spiritual mindset. All of my knowledge and life experiences are refracted through the prism of my mind. The most helpful way to understand refraction is to imagine a ray of sunlight composed of many colors, but when combined, it appears colorless—that is, until it moves through a glass prism. The glass prism acts as a catalyst to break the single ray into a burst of color, commonly known as a rainbow. The mind works similarly to consciousness; if consciousness is the colorless ray of sunlight, the mind is the glass prism. There can be nothing more healing than understanding the nature of my mind, being that consciousness is absolute. The experience of the world is personalized, meaning that the external input filters through as consciousness, coloring the world that I see. This realigning process views the mind as the essential ingredient of life experience and shifts thoughts and emotions through consciousness, revealing humans' true essence. I developed impressive thinking patterns, understanding, and relating over a timeline of 40 years. It takes time to overcome the thinking and feeling structures that inform life; it comes in layers over time and probably lasts a lifetime.

I am not suggesting that medical and psychological solutions should not be used, but that is only half the story. Imagine living in half a house, driving half a car, or watching only half a movie. I was living with half-truths, accepting half-lies, and trying to usurp love from external resources that were never fulfilling. What is different today is that I recognize the conditioning within myself instead of being lost in it. I know that when I stand in judgment of another, it is but a mirror reflecting an aspect of myself that I have not healed. When I existed in my addiction, I required so much not to self-destruct. In my attempt to attain happiness, I lost the most essential things in life: integrity, ethics, and heart. Giving to others is like a ray of light breaking through the mind, coloring the world. When all I do is take from life, it blocks the sunlight of consciousness, rendering me in a scripted conditioning that feeds addiction.

A Mental Health condition that could be added to the DSM is "stigmatization." A condition that promotes instability, oppression, and isolation; a far worse disorder than being outcasted because I am different than you. So, what does an advocate or activist do to combat ignorance? Model authenticity and compassion for those who suffer from the chaos of stigma. Learning how the story of childhood trauma compels me to hide within it, sacrificing my authenticity and screens me from my full potential. As thoughts float on the surface of the ocean of consciousness, they provide insight into mental health challenges. If the mind is the water of consciousness that flows through the vessel of the brain; memories are the debris of my mind, and waves are the emotional mechanisms that push them to shore to heal. Are we using the wrong vehicle to surf the wave of stigma, trying to get to the shore of equality to bathe in rays of sunshine?

by Nikki Russell, CBHPSS

April 6, 2024

What does self-care look like? What does self-care feel like?

I was a new manager in a clothing retail store in the corporate world. In the beginning, I worked 50-60 hours a week. I managed 12-15 employees at any given time with scheduling, crunching numbers, training, and orientations. I sat in my office, dreaming of a way to excuse myself and walk away from the rat race. The job represented how I lived until then, sacrificing my vitality for security. I would leave work daily, pick up my daughter, and stop for my self-care, a bottle or two of wine. I would go home and pour myself a mind-numbing glass of Cabernet, help my daughter with her homework, and put her to bed. I would pass out around midnight, wake up the following day, and start the cycle again. Alcohol and that corporate job functioned just enough to cover my bases. Society told me that my life was pretty good for a girl like me: divorced, single mother, uneducated, and emotionally unstable. I listened to the external world and survived on validation. I wondered why I didn't feel it if I was supposed to be happy. Alcohol kept my emotions in check, and my corporate job gave me a paycheck while both robbed me of my spirit. I had to get so uncomfortable that I became spiritually bankrupt; I needed a do-over, a complete life rehaul. Recovery would save my life.

The root cause of my instability was a disconnect from myself. I was not responsible for my life; I blamed most of my adverse circumstances on my dad's abandonment. One of my first realizations was that my dad abandoned me 35 years ago. Yet, I held him accountable for my current circumstances. At that moment, I recognized that I had done the same thing he had done, abandoning myself because of childhood trauma. In an instant, I went from outward-facing to inward-facing, beginning my journey home to me. The journey home to my heart is how I define self-care. I learned about things I enjoyed, found new ways to cope and soothe myself, and bonded with my daughter, all-encompassing the healing journey called recovery. The recovery journey looks a lot different than the corporate ladder. While many people were proud of my previous accomplishments, they struggled to understand the introverted and sober girl I had become. It did not concern me most respectfully, for I was on a mission to heal my life. Self-care can be a gritty process because it busts through outdated patterns and creatively builds a new process. In the beginning, self-care felt selfish until I recognized that I had no tension in my body when I aligned with the creative process.

Elizabeth Gilbert speaks about the creative process, which is like a circle. It drops into us from outside ourselves and connects to a person open to it. She explains that half of the process is creative expression, such as writing, drawing, or painting. The other half of the process is sharing your creativity and completing the circle (Book: Big Magic). To be human is to be creative. All things before they are manifested in the world are thoughts; this is the gift of being alive. Self-care is using this life to express yourself as you are. Not for the world to judge, though they may, or for the world to grade excellent or bad, and they will, and not for the world to validate, but for you to dance to the beat of your own drum as if nobody is watching, and somebody usually is. Wayne Dyer said, "Don't die with your music still in you," meaning do not create anybody else's art but your own. Self-care is expressing your true self regardless of what the world thinks. As a little girl, I lived in an apartment building with a big stone-covered entryway. I would blast music from my boom box and use a microphone to sing my heart out to Cyndie Lauper. I did not care that I could not sing or dance or that the microphone was my hand; I was ME, expressing myself the only way I knew. I only stopped doing this after somebody told me I couldn't sing and I couldn't dance. Until then, it was art. After that, it was dysfunction. I resigned to appropriate behavior, sitting out the dance and lip singing. Some years later, I began using substances to cope with the tension caused by my inability to express my emotions. Emotions inspire a creative life; pent-up emotions create blocked tension, and reclaiming your life through self-care unblocks them, allowing them to be seen, heard, and felt.

Creating your life through self-care can look like anything you choose to make. It can be expressed through your clothes, hair, and makeup. It can be cooking yourself and your family a healthy meal and presenting it in a way that shows how much you care. It can be taking time for yourself through meditation, prayer, journaling, and reading. It can be walking in nature, taking time to smell a flower, or lifting weights at the gym. It can be coloring, painting, sculpting, drawing, or sewing. Lighting candles, listening to Mozart, breathing slowly, or humming a song. It can be speaking your truth when the world is not ready to hear it, advocating for someone who went through what you went through as a kid, or crying. It can look like all those things and so much more. But what is most important is how it feels because it is not about what you do but how you BE. Authenticity, fun, truth, alignment, connection, silly, courageous, and gritty are all feeling words that let me know I am dancing my dance, painting the portrait of my life, and following my arrow. I have learned valuable lessons: I would rather be true to myself than beautiful to the world, I want to learn more than I earn, and I want to listen to my spirit rather than think about what the world is thinking about me. Self-care is not selfish; it is the opposite because I cannot fill from an empty cup.

by Nikki Russell, CBHPSS

April 5, 2024

Happiness is a broad term that many people associate with pleasure. When your craving for excitement is replenished, the boredom is filled with fun, or the hunger is satisfied. We want entertainment with relationships, activities, careers, and food. The adrenaline rush or dopamine hit that tells us, " I am doing something that matters to me." This is what many people call happiness, the rush of life, the drama of the story. Who would read a book or watch a movie about a character who spends all day doing mundane" things? Intellectually, this definition of happiness makes sense. However, a definition encompassing the whole person requires more depth and self-awareness. When I look at happiness from an intellectual perspective, it reminds me of my addiction. I am always searching externally for things that fill up my emptiness and reduce my tension. Drinking or doing drugs gave me a rush of pleasure; they allowed me to soften the edges and lose my inhibitions. I can say the same for many of my behaviors before starting recovery; I was trying to squeeze happiness out of everything.

In the beginning, I needed to heal; the journey began with recovery. I remember purchasing a bike with a basket in the front for my books and a rack on the back to tie my blanket. I would ride my bike to my recovery meetings, arrive an hour early, lay my blanket on the grass, and read until the meeting started. I felt calm, at peace, and contented during those few hours. In those moments, I was not receiving a dopamine hit; I was connected to a part of myself that I was honoring. In those moments, I was not stimulated by something interrupting my chaos; I was embracing my authenticity. If I reflect on exciting times in my life before recovery, I think of the New Year's Eve celebration when I decided I was not an alcoholic. I had spent five years not drinking and proving to myself and my partner that I could manage my life without alcohol and drugs. My best friend and I planned the evening: new dresses, social events, and friends. What was lurking in the darkness of my mind was an escape from the internal pain I had been trying desperately and unsuccessfully to numb. The curve on my life path deviated from the straight and narrow life I had hoped would bring happiness. New Year's Eve was full of glitz and glamour. I was a size two because I had been exercising twice daily, so my silver sequined dress fit the image I was displaying. I desperately wanted the world to see a happy girl. Here is the problem: I was operating from my ego; it was imprisoning my authenticity. It was chasing after external things it thought would make me happy, while my true dreams lay dormant. Exercise replaced alcohol in those five years of sobriety; in the few years before that, a relationship had replaced hard drugs. I spent many years chasing happiness and running from my pain. New Year's Eve would offer synthetic happiness and stimulate the demands of my ego, a confession I would admit years later. Recovery reconnected me to my innocence.  The little girl inside, who needed support in early recovery, was seen, heard, and acknowledged as I sat there riding my bike and reading my books in early recovery. There is no excitement, no pleasure, no dopamine hit, just a girl reconnecting to herself.

I call my childhood wounding my darkness. I have learned that trauma is not what happened to me but what I experience because of it. One of my traumas is abandonment. How I can experience this is negative programming that convinces me I am not worthy of love. It can show up in my day-to-day moments as unconscious patterns that convince me I do not fit in or self-sabotage. My patterns came from programming due to trauma and informed my behavior. I call this programming EGO. The ego is an internal and unknown drive to specific behaviors, like drinking. I often say, “The thinker is the drinker.” This means that the true and pure part of me is not judging the behavior but has given authority to a more daring part of me that can protect a more vulnerable aspect. My healing has expanded the pure part of me slowly over time; I call this part of me “the light.” In early recovery, I was discovering what this was. I had these bubbles of happiness that would appear inside me, but would not last that long. These bubbles expanded through forgiveness, meditation practice, and learning about myself until they became big enough to withhold my whole self. I began to be able to separate my wounds (darkness) from the person I was always meant to be(lightness). My dreams started to rise to the surface as I was not entangled in my programming. I stood outside of them and observed how they were ruling my life. From that point, I could begin to untangle them individually, allowing me to act as the authority of my life rather than being lost in the darkness.

Recovery has been a “revealing journey.” Once my healing process built momentum, it lit the path toward recovery, revealing unconscious patterns and allowing me to live my best life. Slowly, my ego fades into the light and integrates into life. They say that the ego is a terrible master but a great servant. Our natural state is calm and peaceful. I can think of ego as always wanting the carrot dangling out in front of me that constantly chases happiness, thinking it is closer, but it never reaches it. Suffering lives in the desire for something instead of being at peace with the moment. My happiness began when I realized that I had created everything I had at that moment. This meant I had the power to change it, but even more so, I could embrace it. Trauma has a purpose. It allows me to grow and become a lighter version of myself and provides the drive to seek internal meaning. Chasing happiness cannot fulfill me because it takes me away from my authenticity. Instead, I go inside to the deep reservoirs of myself, and where I think I will find more darkness, the light appears, revealing the internal pursuit of happiness.

by Maureen Bjerke, Guest Contributor

April 3, 2024

Week of the Young Child is a nationally recognized week to celebrate young children and those who care for them. The goal is to raise awareness of the importance of early childhood and the impact the early years have on future development. Montana has many people working on strengthening the early childhood network in our state. In our Capital city, the Early Childhood Collaborative of the Greater Helena Area (the ECC) has been met with an overwhelming response from the community in support of this week-long celebration. Helena has recognized the event in some fashion for many years but this year is the biggest year yet!

While the Week of the Young Child is focused on children ages 0 to 8 years old, the impact of a supportive environment for children, families, and early childhood workers is a community-wide effort.

We are starting the week with a Kickoff Event on April 6th with free children’s screenings, fun activities for children and resources for caregivers. Self-care Sunday is a chance for loss parents to paint their own pottery while connecting with others who have experienced loss on their parenting journey. Our Music Monday class will encourage children to have fun while making music with their caregiver. Tasty Tuesday will give children the chance to make something new and enjoy eating what they just created. Work Together Wednesday facilitates interaction between the child and adult while doing something engaging and fun together. Artsy Thursday allows for the natural creativity of children to come through. Family Friday gives families a chance to spend time together - playing and laughing together is an amazing stress reliever.

Reading in the Rotunda is on Wednesday, April 10th. This event has been going on for many years. We will have fun guest story readers for preschool children and a resource fair where you can learn and explore services available to Helena families.

The Helena School District has set up school visits for preschoolers to visit their future school to aid in the huge transition of going to kindergarten.

This is just a portion of what’s being offered. Businesses are offering week-long discounts, deals or classes to children, families, and those who raise or work with them. Visit our website for a full list of events.

We are so grateful for the support from our community. We hope people know they are not alone, that their community supports them, and that we value our youngest residents.

Learn more about our Week of the Young Child

Maureen Bjerke 406-461-4449 (call or text is fine).

by Nikki Russell, CBHPSS
March 19, 2024

My story is under eternal construction; another layer reveals itself as soon as I assemble it. Writing my recovery story is compelling and something I would like to present in a way that an audience would understand transformation. I immediately reverted to childhood, to one of my saddest moments, and began from there. I revisit emotional wounds that blend into this NOW moment and start composing. I realize the pattern of my life as I attempt not to retraumatize and dull the harsh edges of my traumatic childhood. I retell the same sad story I have uttered thousands of times, one that imprisoned me in unworthiness.

My first lesson in writing came from my therapist, who used narrative therapy, where I documented my past and became an expert in my own life. I had constructed stories that showed my unworthiness and influenced how I saw myself. I observed my life in this exercise, writing it as an on-looker. I could see this person as a characteristic of trauma, somebody I had created not to feel pain; her name is Gertrude. Some of Gertrude's patterns would take years of writing to unravel because they were so engrained that I could not separate them from myself. I learned a lesson in writing that inspired change and would become an instrument of healing in my life.

I had a mountain of journals when I entered recovery. I spent hours writing about the things I was unwilling to change. My journals had my deepest and darkest secrets; they held the pain of my past that regulated my current life. Step four of Alcoholics Anonymous taught me a new way to write. It recommends taking a personal inventory and conducting a fact-finding and fact-facing process. My sponsor told me to pray and meditate before I write, to put my pen on the paper, and to write until I lift the pen off the page. This process influenced a higher power to join me in writing, rather than Gertrude writing alone to ease the discomfort. I wrote for weeks, thinking about all the people I had resentment against and how it affected me. It was a systematic form of writing; I was not to believe, only pray and write. I could feel the weight of the world slowly lifting off my shoulders. This writing technique taught me that writing my story can connect me to something bigger than myself, and when I let that take over, my life transforms.

Meditation and journaling were my recovery routine. I would wake up at 5 am every morning to start my day. After a few years of this practice, one morning, I began writing, but it wasn't me; something was reaching through me as the words poured onto the page. I recognized my pen was not the instrument of a message, but it was I. Reading what I had written on paper but reading it for the first time was an awe-inspiring experience. I researched what had transpired and learned that automatic writing is a form of channeling where you allow a higher power to guide your words. Looking back through my healing process, I expanded my consciousness and cultivated creativity through meditation and writing. Automatic writing began a new path of spiritual exploration that led me home. Being in the flow of writing is what some call a runners-high; you lose yourself in the process, and something beyond the physical person takes over. The automatic writing technique combines being the observer, which I learned in narrative therapy, and systematic writing, which I learned in my fourth step of AA.

It's all about patience, precision, and trust; honing a skill can sometimes take a lifetime, and we may only understand the process once it all comes together. At that moment, you realize the reason everything happened in the exact order it was meant to. Today, I utilize all three forms of writing; they offer different perspectives at different points in my life. As I pondered my "under-construction" recovery story, a poem came to me; when I finished and read it through, I recognized my life as the recovery journey meant to be told through me, not from me.

See, I will tell you a sad story and patterns from my past, but a higher self sees potential and creates poetry from trauma.

Breaking Free

It is hard to break free

Mentally,

Once your THERE the damage is done

The destined path; unsung.

Society blames you for not conforming,

Being your own person breaks norming.

Alcohol and drugs free the pain,

but your soul cannot be tamed.

A mental health disorder labels this disdain

that keeps you trapped without a flame.

The prognosis is grim, and the ache remains

as recovery whispers your name.

Healing is only a dream

as you are enslaved mentally.

Through the prison bars, you try with all your might

to see the sun that's lost its light.

Convincing your free,

you move around your cell willingly.

Hopes and dreams are told to you,

luring you to a sun that reflects the system.

To be truly free,

one must move beyond recovery.

Where the wild unknown unleashes truth,

but the world views you as aloof.

Remaining true, you break the chains of conformity.

Kicking and screaming, yet singing your song

Finally, ending up where you

Belong.

The sun, you realize, was a fluorescent light

that lit the path of society's expectations so bright.

At once, you turn around and finally see

the essence that is truly me.

Abandoned dreams that fueled this life

were internal voices screaming with strife.

They meant no harm, you see,

for they were reacting naturally.

The light that lives inside was buried in a hole

I was filling with external soul.

The journey unknown, I tread lightly

uncovering layers that suppressed my brightly.

Uniting with life creates a storm of emotion,

the system never taught to hear.

Their beliefs so loud, they planted them with fear.

Diving deeply inward I go, following the voice of my KNOW.

The shackles of life, trap me

when I believe in their destiny.

But there is a place within

an unlikely entrance to freedom.

Stand in your truth; let it be known

Use your voice and sit on your throne.

Listen to the echoes that blow in the wind

they are your truth from far within.

Looking through the window of the soul

I see the bars put there that kept me from being whole.

This truth holds the key,

for the sun always lived inside me.

Let it be known that shining bright is to stay true,

not to dismiss you.

An essence I discovered

you may believe to be untrue.

Yet, for me, I live this life beyond recovery

standing tall and empowered by all

who are breaking free

and living a life of integrity.

     -Nikki Russell

by Nikki Russell, CBHPSS

February 20, 2024

The ripple effect of kindness offers global and self-transformation. Acts of kindness can be as simple as a smile or as profound as a prayer. Sometimes, we know when the effect of our actions is received as kindness; other times, it encapsulates empathy and sends an energetic message that uplifts a broken heart. When I heal the past, I hold a higher capacity for kindness. Forgiveness is often explained as an internal peace that allows a person to move forward, not so the other can benefit, but rather self-healing. The healing process makes room for kindness; when I can show love to myself, it fills up an internal hollow space from which I pour kindness. Recovery cultivates kindness, reminding me that life, through all its difficulties, has a purity, an authenticity that chisels through layers of a facade, revealing the essence of life...heart.

The root of my hypervigilance is a search for kindness, which I find in the most unconventional spaces. When I show up for you, I must show up for me first. When I can show grace to the girl who feels unworthy within me, I have rehearsed kindness that reflects onto you. The choice to be kind takes intention, cultivating an internal environment, and the cognitive strength not to retreat to anger or frustration. When I acknowledge a person's humanity as the shared space of empathy, there is an acknowledgment of external imperfection that transcends social status. Amid the anger, a clarifying look, a soft touch, or a compassionate word can activate a remembering of each deed's intrinsic value...hope.

Cultivating compassion grows emotional well-being in a society that prioritizes material success over self-care. Busy schedules demand fast-paced movement that unleashes worry about the future. Worry and kindness are not allies; they can define our actions through personifying behaviors that match the emotion. Self-awareness is the capacity to tune into one's thoughts and feelings. Mindfulness activities like meditation and deep breathing allow self-kindness to echo into the world. Our actions show our internal environment and let us see where we need to heal. Showing compassion for ourselves entails noticing these not-so-pretty parts of ourselves and acknowledging and allowing imperfection to exist. Those parts of ourselves have much to say about the historical journey that brought us to this moment: compassion listens without judgment, encourages positive self-talk, and offers...acceptance.

Kindness is contagious; it ignites healing and guides recovery. It is always available and free. Acts of kindness are a deposit into integrity that has limitless potential for dreams. It offers another person insight into the highest human potential of goodness. I lived much of my life resenting those who hurt me because they were wounded. I always believed in the good that I saw in them but that they could not show me. Recovery allows me to collect the potential they had and channel it through me, restoring generations of trauma. I walk in the footprints of their potential, validating that recovery and beyond work. Generational trauma lives in the souls of those who rarely receive kindness without expecting something in return. Justice is a well-lived life, and acts of kindness are the judge of karma, giving the benefit of the doubt.

Kindness is the most profound truth of ourselves. It gives me insight into my internal health. When sovereignty meets imperfection, it illuminates a choice that shines through as inspiration and dances with connection. It welcomes vulnerability and unlocks the door to a self-made prison that reflects the potential that truth holds as essential. Kindness is the key to freedom and invites the most vital aspect of ourselves to the vast world of the unknown. Kindness exposes the most critical part of ourselves, the part I hide in the shadows because she will be judged. All emotions are valid and can be misjudged, yet kindness leads to increased happiness and lands us in this moment whispering...live.

My experience with random acts of kindness always gives me a surprising shot of joy. As the giver, I am always surprised at the expanded feeling of abundance. As the receiver, I feel valued and seen. Kindness is reciprocal and pays dividends unknown; what I offer up is returned twofold in gratitude. There are infinite possibilities for random acts of kindness, and it is a way to practice devotion. If you need something in your life, like happiness, try devoting time to regular acts of kindness. Acts of kindness could be sending a card to somebody you appreciate, baking a treat for a friend, shoveling your neighbor's walks, buying a coffee for the person ahead of you in line, holding the door open, or a simple smile could make somebody's day. Random acts of kindness create a bridge of empathy to connect with respect. We never know what somebody is going through in their life, and our act of kindness could plant a seed of hope.

One of the most important things we can do for our recovery is to act in kindness. Kindness reveals value for ourselves and the world around us. It shows the goodness of humanity and restores faith. Making kindness a way of life expresses our hope for change. Stigma and shame create barriers to compassion, and kindness can begin to break down those walls. Healing and recovery can flourish in compassionate spaces, and it could start with random acts of kindness. Speak your truth, advocate for system change, and be significant through active participation in kindness. Never underestimate the power of love; it breaks down walls, breaks through stigma, and confronts shame, exclaiming...courage.

by Nikki Russell, Recovery Coach

January 30, 2024

Looking back, I can see how I made everyday objects extraordinary. I was eight years of age and getting ready for school; my mom had already left for work, trusting I could handle the task. With Scooby Doo in the background, I began my ascent to my mother's closet, choosing a black and white striped suit most appropriate for a night on the town, but today I would illustrate how casual chic it was, and wow, a third-grade class. Next, I went to the bathroom mirror with all my barrettes in tow and clipped them one at a time until both sides of my hair had an eclectic blend of yellow butterflies, purple ribbons, and pink hearts. The hairdo was stunning and practical, as it flattened my curls and added an element of wonder. I walked the block to school, and to my amazement, all the kids laughed at me. This event began my creative block; how could I have been so misunderstood by my peers? My mother would spend the next ten years investigating her wardrobe for little hands that craved sophistication, acceptance, and a creative license. Over the years, I learned to tame my eccentric style, balancing neutral colors with a wild personality. I was a closet creative, dreaming of how I would express myself if the world understood my art.

The artistic energy needs to flow somewhere; I would spend the next several decades bending and twisting with its current. My marriage was falling apart, and as I sat in a counselor's office attempting to figure out what went wrong, he said to me, you're very expressive; you present yourself artistically. I had never considered life like that, being a canvas of artistic expression. A new concept that tried to break through a wall of doubt and unworthiness, I looked down at my counselor's feet: Bugs Bunny socks? His business suit and textbook knowledge did not match his playful sock selection. My heart acknowledged something my mind could not comprehend; he witnessed the authentic me. At that moment, I connected to a part of myself that reflected acceptance, empowerment, and innocence. I was showing the world something I wanted it to see rather than the disgraceful unseen dark alleyway in my head. The counselor looked deeper and saw an artist, something I downgraded to an imposter.

Being immersed in the river of thoughts that absorbed every aspect of me felt like a fish in water, never knowing that the tainted water I was breathing was my atmosphere. I was a spiritual force full of light and love, but I would not allow myself the opportunity to shine. Stepping outside the water, beyond the river of thoughts, I sat on the bank of that river, watching thoughts flow by, feeling like a fish out of water. I am describing what I would later discover as a mental health condition that, when undiagnosed, creates a fractured life. All my life experiences were sifted through this veil of disillusionment that I thought was real. My thoughts told me, "You are not a writer, a poet, or an artist." The lens through which I viewed life had a gray filter; the bright light of my spirit pours through and dulls life experiences, blocking the sunlight of my spirit. My counselor threw me a lifebuoy that day, representing recovery, a process I would begin 20 years later, but without it, I may have never started.

Art was a beautiful painting on a wall, a graceful ballet dancer, or a best-selling book. It always felt unattainable, my life and mind too messy to create beauty. Early in recovery, I began painting with my daughter, and I observed her frustration as she attempted to paint like me. It would end in frustration and tears because she felt like she was not good enough. One day, she said, "Mom, I wish I was an artist like you." I began to tell her all the things I wish I would have believed about myself, "You are an artist," "I love your art," and "Do not let anybody steal your dreams." We painted and crafted our way through the next several years; I have filled color books, paintings on canvas, clay models, and collages of memories that create the most beautiful portrait of a mother and daughter bonding together through the messiness of life. Without realizing it, I was creating the most beautiful art of all, carving away the excessive beliefs, opinions, and assumptions that had convinced me my life was not beautiful.

I have learned to trust the artist who created me, giving me a blank canvas to paint a life. Every brush stroke adds depth and meaning, and each word breathes a reality into life. Life can be tremendously painful at moments, yet beauty can be found there. The artist takes all elements of life and molds them into a figure for those to admire and capture meaning from. Art is an honest reflection of a life lived and the potential it can become. Like life, art is only sometimes appreciated after the artist is gone. My mental health is undiagnosed, yet I have collected all those fractured pieces, collaged them into my life, and made my kind of artwork. The art I do today reflects healing my spirit and shining my wild colors for the whole world to see.

Some may not understand your art, but do not be discouraged, be true to yourself and know the artist’s work is never complete. Find your style and trust that it will captivate the world.

"That's one fish story no one will believe."

Scooby Dooby Doo

Check out our new Art Heals Project!

by Nikki Russell, Recovery Coach

January 16, 2024

The pursuit of happiness can feel like hunting for an external thing that, when destroyed, justifies the means. Mind you, this perspective comes from a Vegetarian who insists on achieving balance through less sacrificial means. There are two ways to view the world we live in. The first is objective, survival of the fittest, which proclaims intellect is almighty and whoever thinks and runs faster wins. The second approach comes from "Namaste," which means "the God in me recognizes the God in you." This is not only from human to human but also from human to object. Recovery cleared this up for me, creating a space in my heart for the value of all living things as a way of life. Proclaiming this value system, living in Montana has its set of challenges, as does not drinking and carrying a Buddhist mindset. Through the years, I have become steadfast in my beliefs and recognize authentic qualities as an expression of empowerment. Being a vegetarian while existing in the land of hunters forces me to reconcile an attitude that could come off as righteous. The lofty goal of not wanting to be judgmental and accepting all people for their belief system attempts to break the chains of conditioning. I fight against my childhood conditioning that tells me hunting for happiness is a futile effort that leads to selfishness. Walking the fine line of service to others while maintaining a sense of dignity is a daily endeavor, I find rewarding and exhausting. This paper attempts to relay a message of hope through a personal discovery process of archetypal patterns of the hunter and a redefining of happiness.

The hunter hunts are a simple determination; they are on a precise task with a purpose. Although I have never hunted animals, I know the adrenaline rush of shopping or the hunt for a drink. An adventure of the will for something that fulfills a desire, whether a spiritual hunger or an empty stomach. The prize temporarily satisfies a desperate need for success, whether it is a suppression of loneliness to permit a facade of satisfaction or trophy antlers proudly hung on a wall to display pride. The hunter archetype can play out in people's lives in many different ways, exhibiting the result of a journey traveled far and wide to display a prize that is sure to impress. The hunter is a seeker, a pursuer, and a predator. When a hunter esteems its target, it is focused, energized, and respectful. When a hunter comes from a wounded space, they can be irresponsible, thoughtless, and damaging. I can see myself as an archetypal hunter with a weapon of choice, willing to shoot my target to fulfill a desire. Whether in my addiction or my recovery, being a courageous hunter for happiness has compelled life.

The desires are fierce and demand an action. Healthy behaviors lead life today, and kindness is my weapon of choice. Yet, there live the hunter in my heart, reminding me that I am not so different from the Montana way of life. I am intertwining a rugged beauty with a wild heart that calls me to the mountains of my life. Courageous, traversing the elements as I explore the world inside and outside of me. When I acknowledge the hunter in me, I must ask what I am hunting. Why am I hunting it? And is the weapon I hold in my grasp necessary for the task?

Every happiness has two specialties: one is perceiving something as good, and the other is attaining it. The thing that is perceived as good is hunted. To prepare for the hunt, a person must know what is good for them. The pursuit begins with a foundation of the values a person stands upon. Values come from conditioning and an innate essence planted in everyone as a purpose. The conversation can get tricky from this point, depending on your belief system, because there are two perspectives on happiness: one is metaphysical, and the other is that happiness is an external resource. Metaphysical happiness is where a person places their joy in the present moment with an acceptance that all external things reflect the internal work. Honoring good and bad things is a humble reminder that life carries lessons to benefit the more extraordinary claim. In this respect, happiness is not a pursuit but a surrender to the knowledge that the Universe will supply the means for survival. An actively passive exchange is where the energy a person puts into something is what they receive in return. A monetary value is not described as something that offers happiness, but the connection to infinite possibilities gives unbounded contentment even in the face of threat. Words could not possibly describe the experience of a metaphysical process of mysticism, but it is like trying to describe recovery to a person amid their addiction.

Happiness can be described as a comfortable feeling, the absence of fear or ambivalence. Many people describe it as the American dream or banking happiness; laughing all the way to the bank brings a sense of gratification. Being a consumer of happiness allows many people to trade ethics for instant gratification, morals for validation, and authenticity for approval. That said, it is a standard method, extracting love from a gallon of ice cream, confusing quality with quantity, and trading a smile for a buck. A true hunter of happiness values the journey, works hard for the reward, and holds sacred the affected life. Regulating happiness is a legitimate way to find temporary contentment. Still, much like addiction, where a hit gives a warm hug, it only leaves you wanting more when the happiness effects wear off. Happiness is a valid emotion, just like sadness and fear, alerting the brain to promote balance and more things that bring joy and protection from those who do not. Happiness has turned into a consumer's delight, failing to produce fulfillment and offering a much-needed break from the effects of life. Western society promotes happiness as a dream, achievable only once you pay for it. As a society, we forgot what we forgot, and freedom is not free. The unpretentious hunter does not want an animal to be sacrificed for their entertainment but holds high regard for the medicine it provides, a reciprocal relationship that digests appreciation, honor, and respect. Happiness lives in each action that promotes balance. Justice is living a life that honors generosity, patience, and diligence. When we spend money, we are offering something of ourselves in return. Happiness is the action that comes from the core of a value system and requires bravery to leap in the direction of authenticity. Hunting for happiness requires self-awareness that grows from a healed heart that aligns with the bow and arrow and, before it is shot, understands the gravity of the action. Before money is spent, we know the object's value; before words are spoken, we understand the weight they carry; and before the trigger is pulled, we grasp the consequence of the effort.

The hunter of happiness proclaims victory over the present moment by claiming her stake in goodness. Pursuing happiness is an internal process that allows happiness to exist, free of judgment, and recovery to be the foundation of a well-lived life.

by Nikki Russell, Recovery Coach

December 12, 2023

Spiritual Intelligence (SQ) is discovering the aspects of us that inspire creativity, healing, and purpose. Another name for this is intuition, which lives on our brain's right side. The intelligence Quotient (IQ), the left side of the brain, measures what we accumulate outside of ourselves; learning happens through reading books, listening to speeches, researching, and observing others. We analyze and compare data intellectually and incorporate it into life. Learning starts early in life, like learning to walk and speak, and evolves into helping us understand, perceive, and assess the world around us. It is critical for survival; it helps us meet mental, emotional, and social demands. Learning does not play favorites; it does not self-correct. The school of hard knocks teaches different lessons and incorporates skills that protect a person from danger. For example, due to the trauma I was experiencing at home as a child, it was much more important to maintain a sense of safety versus learning math, my left brain told me. Confidence was a mask I wore to protect secrets, in comparison to an organic experience that prepared me for harnessing a successful career path. This type of learning came from my family's modeled behavior, and it assured me that I would stay in the same social class, mental health, and emotional crisis. The trauma wound became my best teacher, guiding my footsteps, warning me of happiness, and sabotaging success. Hypervigilance was my game, and I excelled, honing my survival skills. There were no awards or certifications for my efforts, and no adult ever validated my keen eye for perpetrators, my empathic qualities of just knowing when something was wrong, or how I could weave a story to protect a generation of lies.

I had skills that could win battles and pass tests, but none that were credible by society's standards. I worked incredibly hard to fit into the "IQ" world. With a flash of my smile and wielding my sword of manipulation, I could achieve anything this life had to offer. Worldly success was at my fingertips; you guessed it, a cigarette, a beer, and a pill were all I needed to convince myself I was just like you. They did not fall for it, but I did, hard. To the bottom, I went down every bottle, relationship, and lie. Getting to the bottom of a lie is hard to hit; it meant I could no longer count on my education to get me through consistent internal trauma; I would need to go deeper. It was a crushing blow to realize the safety measures taken were a false security blanket meant to keep me trapped in a cozy feedback loop. My five senses of touch, taste, smell, hearing, and sight were a part of the protection process; my thought patterns and emotions justified the concrete world I saw, further constructing and solidifying an identity. I was imprisoned in my education, a storm of thought patterns that pulled from my past and projected into the future, staining potentially beautiful life experiences. Triggered emotions reinforced the thoughts that created a fear in me so intense that all I could do was adjust the mask and hope that the distant light of my authentic self would twinkle just enough to conjure images of happiness in you so you would not judge me.

I heard it! Deep inside me, I heard it! Is my intuition speaking to me? It felt so hollow inside my body and brain the voice echoed. It felt like the truth; it was soft and kind but seemed wild. Was I losing my God-forsaken mind once and for all? The unknown of that experience felt like home, but no home I have ever known. The message that came through that day felt like Deja Vue, and I knew that I was right where I was supposed to be. Hope came in the middle of my messy mind, broken heart, and tragic life; it held me so tight and then released me back into the world to rebuild my life. A deeper level of safety existed, but with the old thought patterns giving me feedback, it would take another year for me to walk into a life of recovery. A new education was in order, and I became a seeker of truth.

Mining for my authentic self-involved practices would quiet the recycled thought patterns that imposed a life of protection. I needed to be able to not only hear my intuition but discern between thought and wisdom. It has been a non-linear path of learning new skills; I began listening, writing down thoughts, and questioning what motivated me versus the results I was getting. Doing the work to unlearn old patterns and behaviors was actively passive. It was a destructive internal process that involved learning to meditate, journaling, reading loads of books, and a forgiveness process. I permitted myself to become the spiritual-girl I have always been. The willingness to trust that my intuition will guide me toward true happiness that might not look like what the world defines as success took radical action. So much of my suffering during this timeframe was the old identity I was losing; even though it imprisoned me, it also protected me. I lost that old identity to have something better. Spirituality is a way of life offering a radical intelligence accessible to everyone. It takes a process, acceptance of where we currently are on our life journey, and a desire for change. With the balance of the left and the right brain, we cannot rely only on IQ as a means of living; we are only relying on the information in our environment. The right brain offers creativity with life and new possibilities; it allows spirituality to flow in. Spending time in the realm of the impossible is where dreams are cultivated; connecting SQ with IQ will enable an inner genius to take form and deliver a life beyond your imagination.

by Erin Faulkner, Family Peer Supporter

December 5, 2023

International Disability Awareness Day was December 3^rd.  I have labeled myself as a person with a disability for many years.  It is not a label that I use to get pity or to collect financial assistance.  It is just how I am able to explain with one word that, though I am a successful, capable adult, I do have restrictions and limitations in some activities in my life.

A disability is any condition of the body or mind (impairment) that makes it more difficult for the person with the condition to do certain activities (activity limitation) and interact with the world around them (participation restrictions).  A disabled person may not be handicapped if they can find a way around their disability.  Often these are accommodations, but they may just be tools or strategies.  Examples in these are hearing aids, braille, captioning, notebooks, phone apps, step stools, etc.

I have Stickler Syndrome, a connective tissue disorder, that affects my vision, hearing, joints and size.  Due to my hearing loss, I have needed accommodations to allow me to access information, specifically communication.  I wear hearing aids, use closed captioning on all tv shows and movies, and sit in the first few rows at any conference or meetings. I avoid situations and experiences that I am not able to experience the same as someone without a hearing loss.  I don’t go to plays.  I only go to movies that have open-captioning or use a close-captioned device.  I avoid visiting with a large group of people.

I am very myopic, or near-sighted, in my left eye in which I wear a contact lens.  My right eye has had a cataract repair and now has distance vision.  Even with these corrections, I still only have 20/40 vision, or 20/30 on a good day.  For the most part, my vision doesn’t limit my activities, though, the chance of it progressing is high due to glaucoma, cataracts and risk of tears and detachments.

Being only 4’10” isn’t extremely uncommon, but it does add to some of the limitations, such as driving some vehicles.  The most annoying thing is trying to get things off of shelves in the store.  As a side-bar, height restrictions have proven to be a little discriminatory at one store chain, in my opinion.  Shoes are hung with small sizes at the top and large sizes at the bottom, so that the short people that are likely to wear the small shoes can’t reach them.  I also require a foot stool under my desk at work, so that I can sit comfortably without aggravating my hips and knees.

Finally, my limited flexibility and joint pain have the biggest impact on my life.  For example, my hip joints did not develop normally, so my walking gait actually goes against the direction my legs would want to move in the joint.  This means that walking for long periods of time causes pain. It has been frustrating for most of my life to hear that exercise (stretching and strengthening) would help with my pain, but how can I exercise when it hurts?  It was a vicious cycle that I experienced for years until I was finally given some medication that helped with the pain and allowed me to finally exercise and improve my joints, which in turn lessened my pain and allowed me to do more things.

As you can see, I do have some limitations, but only in a few areas of my daily life.  I am able to work, drive, and take care of my family.  I am successful and happy.  My limitations are not excuses.  They are simply reasons for me to look for other ways to do things that I want to do or find other things to do instead.

My 21-year-old daughter also has Stickler Syndrome.  She is a very successful college student who already has a post-graduation job lined up as a chemical engineer.  She has had a 504 plan since elementary school.  Sam has only used supports as she has needed them.  She has found that communicating with professors and employers has helped her bypass any limitations more than the accommodations she might ask for.  Advocating for and accessing what you need to be successful is far different than saying “I can’t because…”  Look for opportunities to succeed not for reasons not to.  Your disability does not inherently make you disabled.  Your attitude about it does.  I have shared some quotes that may help you see yourself or someone you know differently than you had before.

by Erin Faulkner, Family Peer Supporter

November 28, 2023

On December 2, 1975, President Ford signed the Education for all Handicapped Children Act (EHA), which ensures that all children with an identified disability receive special education and related services to address their individual needs.  In 1990, EHA became the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA).

In honor of National Special Education Day on December 2nd, I am sharing my personal story in the hopes of dispelling stereotypes of what Special Education services means for students now and for their future.  Growing up, and even 18 years ago when my daughter started receiving special education services, I would hear terms like “short bus” or “sped kids” which referred to students who received special education services or had an Individualized Education Plan (IEP).  Though I don’t hear these terms as much today, I know they still exist and the negative attitude towards these students still exists.

Growing up was difficult for me as I am hard-of-hearing and wear hearing aids.  For that reason and because of my poor eyesight, I always needed to sit in the front row.  For a few years in high school, I even used an FM system, which allowed me to hear the teacher directly into my hearing aids.  As far as I know, I never actually had an IEP, even though they had been introduced in 1975.  It was difficult as I had to advocate for all my needs without an official meeting or support other than my mother.  Every class, I had to tell my teachers that I needed to be in the front row.  I remember a teacher I had Freshman year and then again as a Senior.  I reminded her that I needed to sit in the front row the first class of my Senior year.  She put me all the way to the right and three rows back.  It took me a month to work up the nerve to tell her I couldn’t see or hear well enough from there.  I know that I wouldn’t have needed an IEP as my academics were good, but I believe a 504 plan, which outlines accommodations, would have been helpful.

My daughter’s story is different and far more positive.  Sam is also hard-of-hearing and wears glasses.  We happen to live in Great Falls where the Montana School for the Deaf and Blind (MSDB) is located.  Sam was able to start going to school there at 18 months old.  She had an Individualized Family Service Plan (IFSP) through Part C services until she was 3 at which time she got her first IEP.  Though Sam’s academics were strong, she had some language delays for a few years and received speech therapy to work on auditory training, voice volume and some articulation errors.  When she started attending public school in 1^st grade, she also had an interpreter for signed support.  Sam continued with these services for the next few years.  She was mainstreamed fully in 3^rd grade.  In fifth grade, it was determined that she used her residual hearing to access language and communication, so the interpreter was no longer needed.   She had also graduated from speech therapy.  With these services no longer needed, Sam was no longer eligible for an IEP, even though she met the diagnosing criteria.  She was switched to a 504 plan, which outlined the accommodations that the schools needed to provide for her.  In her case, these were primarily related to making sure she had access to auditory and visual information.  Preferred seating to see the teacher and writing on boards was her primary accommodation.  My daughter, who received special education related services from preschool through 12^th grade, graduated with honors from high school and will be graduating with honors in Chemical Engineering this spring.  She still has a 504 plan, which she utilizes as necessary.

My point of this story is that there are different degrees of “special education”.  Every students’ plan and needs are individualized with the hope of giving them what they need to be successful at whatever level they can be.  For some, it is attending different schools that can meet their needs, such as MSDB or an alternative school that is better able to individualize learning for each student.  Students who were in special education classes or received resource services can still be successful adults, go to college or trade schools, and/or become hard-working employees.  The stigma that these services have for some parents, unfortunately, leaves some students not able to access their education or causes them to get behind and makes it harder to catch up.  Special education services start young in what is called early intervention services.  Studies show that the earlier children access help, the better their chances of not needing individualized support later.

I applaud all of the teachers and specialists who provide their expertise to students who require extra supports to access their curriculums, communication and social relationships.

For more information about special education services in Montana, check out the Montana Empowerment Center’s website.  They have tip sheets, handbooks and webinars on IDEA, IEPs and 504 plans, as well as providing one-on-one support to families.

by Nikki Russell, Recovery Coach

November 21, 2023

Any story worth its weight on paper is a hero's journey, where a person ventures toward empowerment—the gumption to take a leap of faith into the unknown to discover themselves. Entering recovery is a yes to the call of becoming real; the story of Nikki becomes real; conquering fears takes courage and unlocks gratitude. The profound transformation from something unreal to something tangible is an innate drive within us to become whole and authentic. Love attaches to many things that provide instant gratification, preventing us from letting the flood of emotions wash over us. Grace is the root word of gratitude; an intellectual approach to spirituality produces positive change, yet heartfelt choices align with purpose and develop gratitude.

Grace has religious connotations and valid beliefs for those who resonate with a heavenly father. Yet, for others who pursue a grittier view of spirituality, I offer a different perspective. Grace is the sudden spark from an elevated perspective that inspires change. A gentle yet dignified openness to what is real. The willingness to participate in the mystery of life through trust versus comprehension. Grace is the internal impetus toward change, and gratitude is the emotion felt when the ordinary becomes enough. The value gratitude holds in my life is evident in everything I do to cultivate it. I cannot control grace, but I can offer my ability to move toward behaviors that show appreciation. Examples include setting daily intentions for mind, body, and spirit. Tithing to organizations that inspire positive change, simple acts of kindness, and mindfulness activities that support thankfulness for this moment. Understanding that everything in life is here to help me, I can acknowledge my viewpoint of things as good and imperfect as things that support my healing journey. I leave the door open for grace to enter with my attitude and actions.

When I began recovery, I intended to quit drinking; my goal wasn't what my life has become. Spirituality was not on my radar; I spent many years spiritualizing addiction, substituting one addiction for a more acceptable one. I jumped from a bottle of Gin into a concept of spiritualness, anything to take the pain away. The behavior had improved, and I was better equipped to manage my life, but the underlying problem remained. Self-medicating trauma was something yet to be learned. As I healed past hurts, meditation became a habit that transformed my life. This is how grace works; the energy I used to numb pain transformed into a higher purpose that gives life meaning. I am amazed at the mystery of grace and the feeling of gratitude, for what was once a debt to society with rebellious behavior rooted in shame has become a process of transforming lives.

Allowing grace to propel life into gratitude masquerading as ego-centric pursuits, my experience shows me it is possible to become something I cannot imagine or understand. Dedication to recovery expands Gratitude is a daily commitment to learning, a radical acceptance of reality, a willingness to live an authentic dash, and a belief in the mystery of life. Spiritual practices serve a gritty grace, the kind that finds you in the depths of darkness as the thing that raises you up. Grace is given, and recovery pulls grace forward as if to beckon us further on the journey, offering gratitude as the reward for a moment spent well. Respect for the journey that burned my life to the ground and the process of rising from the ashes reminds me that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Hindsight has the benefit of lessons learned that become the foundation for wisdom that reminds me there is always opportunity for growth. Grace shows up to help me along the way, allowing my past self to show me the way forward. What made me sick cannot heal me, yet it reminds me of the places I can go when I am not devoted to recovery. I do not know what the future holds, but gratitude gives me emotional hits that I am on the right path.

The story of The Velveteen Rabbit offers a spiritual perspective about becoming real. The skin horse responds to the rabbit's question of becoming real: "Real isn't how you were made; it's a thing that happens to you." He says, "It doesn't happen all at once; you become. It can take a long time." The recovery journey begins with what some would call tragedy, but I have learned recovery is a gift of grace. Gritty, yes, but every step has helped me learn how to love, to become real, and to allow grace the opportunity to transform my life in all the creative ways it shows up. Becoming real does not suggest that my life before recovery was not valid; it was; it showed me my strength and offered up gratitude as a vital emotion to support me on my hero's journey.