By Kayla Myers, Family Peer Supporter

September 24, 2024

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through the experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition ignited, and success achieved.” — Helen Keller

Today, I invite you to join me on a journey. The map I was given at birth was filled with detours, unexpected stops, fast-paced highways, and scenic routes, accompanied by plenty of bumps and flat tires. Through adaptation and countless obstacles, I navigated a less-traveled road—a highway leading to self-awareness and recovery. I want to pause a moment to express my heartfelt gratitude to each of you here today reading this. I know you have faced your own battles, and your presence signifies that you’ve found hope after being hurt and discovered the courage to keep showing up for yourselves. Thank you for allowing me the space to be vulnerable and share my story.

Before I dive into my successes, I must be honest about the struggles and losses I've faced—mostly at my own hands, but also at the hands of others. I am a survivor of complex trauma, navigating a world shaped by anxiety and depression. I received a late diagnosis of ADHD. For thirty years, I excelled at being what everyone else needed, so much so that I lost sight of who I was and what I truly wanted in life. I thought I had it all figured out, only to find myself in the ER at 18, convinced I was having a heart attack. The doctors told me my EKG results were immaculate. When I asked what it could mean, they casually dismissed it as “just a panic attack.” But how could that be? For years, I had expressed sympathy for those struggling with diagnoses, convinced that I was “fine.” My subconscious was screaming to be heard, and I simply ignored it. My college years became a whirlwind of chaos—fun, unhealthy coping mechanisms, and the persistent belief that I was okay.

Reflecting on the little girl born in June of 1990 is bittersweet. She faced challenges far beyond her years yet handled them with grace. Joyful, kind, confident, talkative, and emotionally mature, she saw the good in everyone, even in those who struggled to show it. I envy her resilience; she loved freely, expecting nothing in return. Perhaps I envy her because I am “her”—the same essence still resides within me. But I was naïve to the toll this ability to love could take on my bright spirit.

As years passed, friendships and romantic relationships flowed through cycles of joy, confusion, love, and heartache. I took a break from school to pursue promotions at work, where I felt valued and connected.

Becoming a mom was a beautiful chapter in my story. I thrived in that role, embracing the joys and challenges of motherhood in a new city. The love I felt for my son was unconditional, profound, and hard to articulate. Three and a half years later, I became pregnant with my second son, who also brought immense joy and tenderness into my life. Both my boys enriched my existence, and their uniqueness taught me how to love two individuals exactly as they were meant to be.

Despite the chaos, I cherish being a mother. Yet motherhood can be overwhelming—there are countless tasks to juggle, financial stresses, and the constant responsibility of ensuring another’s safety. While it brings an abundance of love, it also magnifies feelings of inadequacy. I was terrified of letting my boys down, leading me to second-guess myself repeatedly. My untreated anxiety intensified, occasionally spiraling into depression. Eventually, I found myself waking up and merely going through the motions. A neck injury compounded my sense of being lost, but counseling became a vital lifeline, providing me with a space to be heard.

When we moved to Montana, a place steeped in cherished childhood memories, my dreams began to take shape. I found a new flicker of hope, returning to work while my boys started school. But then I faced another challenge: my youngest’s regression with Autism. He lost his language and many of the abilities I had treasured. I mourned the child I once knew while stepping up to be the mother he needed.

I resumed counseling, and after two years of revisiting the same struggles, my therapist delivered a powerful revelation: “If you’re unhappy with your life, you have two choices. You can completely change how your life looks, or you need to find better solutions to feel comfortable in your current situation.” It was an awakening moment.

Four years ago, I grew weary of my narrative and finally admitted the truth: I was the only one who could change my life. I learned to listen to my inner voice and advocate for myself. EMDR therapy became transformative, helping me reclaim my life. Today, my boys are thriving. I’ve met a wonderful partner who loves me for who I am. I’ve embraced the role of being a bonus to a beautiful little girl. I am passionate about my work and a fierce advocate for others. My experiences have granted me the ability to meet people where they are, recognizing that the fundamental human need is connection. With even a glimmer of hope, beautiful transformations can occur.

Now, I stand proud of the person I see in the mirror. When I need a reminder, the little girl within me whispers that I am joyful, kind, confident, talkative, curious, and emotionally mature. I understand how the world works, and I strive to treat even the unloving with compassion. We are all born good, and we are all doing our best.

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

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, 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 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!

September 12, 2023

Recovery, whether from physical ailments, mental health challenges, addiction, or any form of adversity, is a journey that requires unwavering commitment and determination. It is a process that demands not only medical interventions but also a profound dedication to self-improvement and healing. The essence of commitment to recovery lies in the willingness to face challenges head-on, persevere through setbacks, and cultivate resilience that leads to a renewed sense of well-being.

At the heart is the recognition that the path to healing is rarely linear. Setbacks, relapses, and moments of doubt are almost inevitable. However, it is the commitment to the larger goal of recovery that sustains individuals through these trials. This commitment involves a conscious decision to prioritize one's well-being, even when faced with difficulties. It is a dedication to seeking help, whether from medical professionals, therapists, support groups, or loved ones, and utilizing the resources available for the betterment of one's health.

Commitment to recovery is an embodiment of resilience. It's the ability to bounce back from setbacks with newfound strength and determination. Resilience is cultivated through the act of persisting despite challenges, adapting to changing circumstances, and learning from both successes and failures. This resilience not only aids in the process of recovery but also equips individuals with valuable life skills that extend beyond their healing journey.

Furthermore, this commitment is a testament to the power of the human spirit. It showcases our capacity to evolve, transform, and rise above even the most daunting circumstances. It often necessitates making difficult choices and altering habits that might have contributed to the challenge at hand. It requires a willingness to confront past traumas, address underlying issues, and adopt healthier coping mechanisms.

Committing to recovery is a profound and transformative journey that requires dedication, resilience, and an unyielding spirit. It's an acknowledgement that healing is not passive; rather, it's an active pursuit that demands consistent effort and a steadfast commitment to personal growth. Whether recovering from physical ailments, mental health struggles, addiction, or any form of adversity, the commitment to recovery is a testament to the strength of the human will and the capacity to triumph over adversity. Through this commitment, individuals can emerge from their challenges with a renewed sense of purpose and a deeper understanding of their own strength.

by Lea Wetzel, Drop-in Center Coordinator

August 8, 2023

I think this story really starts with my own background, and into my own childhood. I am the 6th generation healing from boarding schools in my family, so both my parents were affected and were in those schools growing up. There was a lot of traumas instilled in parenting growing up for all those generations before me, that were taken from their homes and put into boarding schools.

My mom grew up on a ranch in Blackfeet territory, and my dad grew up in that area, but right outside of Cut Bank on a farm. My mom was the oldest of 5 sisters and was treated like a boy on that ranch. She was abused and had to play the motherly role for her siblings by the time she was 12, because our grandma left the girls and my grandpa. So, she was always protective and strict in parenting us, and we didn’t go without, but we learned to work together and do what we were told.

My dad was the youngest boy out of 7 siblings and knew how it was to struggle. He always did what he could to listen and give us what he couldn’t have, but he also endured and seen a lot in his lifetime. It really continued to affect his mental health as he got older.

I grew up between Helena and Great Falls, after my parents split, when I was around 3, and my brother was 9. I got the gift of seeing two very different parenting skills. My mom hovered and made sure I did what I was supposed to, and when I didn’t, there were consequences. My dad was very trusting and comforting, but very enabling.

They both were amazing, and did the best with what they had, but I had one person in my life that gave me consistency, and that was my stepdad. My mom remarried when I was 7 years old. He was a teacher and coach in this community for over 50 years, and treated me and all my family, as if we were blood.

What he was one day, was what he was the next, and when he said he would do something, he did it, and he did it with integrity.

So, when I became a parent, I was 23 when I had my girl, and later 24, when I had my son. I was still in active addiction when I got pregnant, but soon after finding out I was pregnant, went to my first treatment center, for the good of my baby.

Sobriety never lasted, and recovery wasn’t something I can say I was a part of, until the last 6 years of my life.

I didn’t have many skills in the areas of boundaries, coping, emotional regularity, and self-care. I am sure if I had some of these, maybe, I would have had a better shot, but I still didn’t know how to live without my addictions and toxic mental health, front and center.

I learned the hard way, and my love for my kids showed me, that maybe I was not the best fit for them, when I couldn’t take care of myself. After not being consistent in my kids’ life, 8 years more of active addiction went by, and it was going into 17 years all together of being within the criminal justice system, I learned a lot, and took a lot of courses, classes, and groups. I had 7 treatment centers under my belt, and a couple mental health overnight stays as well. None of which gave me the hands-on support and empowered atmosphere I needed, until I was in a re-entry program that was trauma-informed and had a sense of a harm reduction model.

Something changed this last go, and I know it sounds cliché, but that is the best way I can describe it, without letting it take over this whole article.

I was able to get my kids back, and I did it in a family shelter, where I had help transitioning from no kids, to grown up kids, almost teenagers at the time.
I have learned through my growth and healing; they need the same support themselves. We all came back together to my first apartment that I rented, when I was getting ready to graduate treatment court.

It has been rocky, amazing, and full of gifts, being able to get a second chance as a parent. All those memories of my childhood come rushing to me, and I literally have to fight the characteristics I don’t want to be, because they come almost second nature. It’s practice not perfection, but I have learned that everyone needs a tribe to keep them afloat, and by sharing that with my kids, they have a better chance at being supported.

As a single mom of two teenagers, and doing all the things to keep myself healthy, mind, body, and soul, I need to make sure these two other beings are in a good place, as well. Sometimes that looks different day to day, but listening and giving them my unconditional love, and making sure I spend individual time with them, and time together, all been key elements to our lives flowing a lot better.

They each have very different personalities, and by listening and empowering them in their wants and passion, we can have positive outcomes. But, also, they are teenagers, and I have learned to really put a shield on, because some things can be very painful. They may not purposely disrespect or disregard rules, or our home, but they are at an age that they think they know it all, and parents don’t.

That’s okay, because no matter what the obstacle is in life, the more I take care of myself, and am in a good mindset, the better I can make choices that are helpful for all of us.

One of those skills I have started learning is, I go to a parenting group, with other parents that have kids with mental health issues, or even co-occurring. It helps me to not feel so alone. I also go to my own groups for support. The kids each talk to someone outside of the home, and I do my best to keep them busy. Summers can be hard because they have so much time on their hands.

Giving a space for vulnerability, even when some of the conversations are hard to hear. I think taking accountability for not being there for the time I wasn’t is very important and giving them the space to grow and be who they are meant to be, is super important as well.

Giving them space and myself, space is vital, be able to trust one another is super important.

Acknowledging that they are their own individual, and respecting that they are who they are, but find that balance of empowering them, boundaries, accountability, and support, is a balance I think every parent wants to strive for, but it can be hard, and that is okay. We have our lives, and they have theirs, I don’t push them to be like me, but being an example of a strong person for them, does start to rub off, in multiple ways.

Being a parent in recovery, is a gift, it’s a strength, and it can be hard. Having supportive systems and people in place is vital. Being the energy, we want to see in our kids, can be a great concept, but the reality is, I am a parent that makes mistakes. I think learning to work though things together, and allowing our kids to have a voice and choice in some areas of our lives is important.

Parenting can either make or break us, and it is up to us to do that no matter what, we need to be the example and person our kids need. We also can welcome a space for growth and learning in this area of our recovery as well.

by Kayla Myers, Family Peer Supporter

July 11, 2023

Throughout my life service work and volunteering were something I regularly did without a thought. I did it because I wanted to and cared deeply for human beings in general, even just having met them. I can remember volunteering was something I started doing as a young girl. My mom and I would drive from our small town to the bigger city with Wal-Mart or Payless, to buy shoes for children in our community through a non-profit that ran off donations. Or volunteering to help with children in classrooms, buying food for the homeless population, or giving clothes away that I no longer needed to someone who did. I became a Big Brother Big Sister when I was going to college. I was paired with a little boy who was a 1st grader who had experienced a lot of traumas at a young age. I remember at my age then, going to do something out of the “fun” college realm, felt like a chore. Not hanging out with him though. I always made sure I showed up to our Friday hangout at school, because I knew that I was one of the few adults in his life who did. And every time he saw me, he took a deep breath, a smile would emerge on his face, and he never stopped talking to update me on the week. I knew how much it meant to him. From then on, I truly understood the impact of how doing something for those who need someone to care about them so they don’t lose faith that people still can. This makes the difference, even when it doesn’t feel like you are making a difference at the time.

Now in my 30’s, after everything that has happened in my life, and the work I have done to overcome it all, I understand this concept more than ever. I say this thing a lot when I explain myself to people and some may take it as a weakness and maybe some respect my realness. I guess it’s truly the only way I know how to best explain my purpose on this earth. I say, “I am not great at a lot of things. I’m mediocre to say the least. Most people are great at something. For example, some are artistic, others are sport prodigies, etc.  I am good at people.” I can get people to open to me because I make them feel safe in my presence. No matter who they are, their age, or what walk of life they come from. It is something I can always remember being natural for me to do, or people gave me feedback on. Communicating and connecting with humans as they are, that’s my gift and I am great at it! What I have learned and believe now, the pain and heartache I have endured during my life, it wasn’t for nothing. And while I never wanted my story to define me or be my identity, it is. I had a choice awhile back, let the hurt hold me prisoner, or use the hurt to break out of the cage I let myself stay in far too long. And now I choose to help nurture others while they find the courage to do the same for themselves.

All in all, what I am trying to say, is give back to others. I know it can be hard to give more of yourself when a lot has been taken, but I can promise from experience, it is just a mindset adjustment. Service work and volunteering your time is healing and when you give to others without the expectation that they won’t need to do anything for you in return. This way, without the expectations held to the idea of serving others, it’s simply something I am going to do because I want too. I feel better after every time I do, it is a gift I am giving by choice without an expectation attached to it, and it is healing the parts of me I needed. Be the person to others, as you wished you had when you needed someone the most. That is what life is truly about in my opinion. Not objects, things, or accomplishments, but how do I feel at the end of every day? If that answer is anywhere close to fulfilled, you are doing it right.

by Kayla Myers, Family Peer Supporter

June 27, 2023

When I did this month’s webinar on the topic “Radical Acceptance”, one of the comments was on the word radical paired with acceptance. Radical commonly can be referred to a person who is an extremist in their advocacy on topics that are less than traditional. So, the thought was, I understand acceptance in life and as events happen that are less than acceptable, but how I am expected to radically accept these events as something I am putting an “I am okay with this happening to me” stamp on it?

For me, I got to a point in my life where I had more childhood trauma that was unresolved inside of me than I even knew, I was undiagnosed with everything but anxiety, I kept running through the same kind of relationships with different bodies, expecting different results, and having all my life’s events coming to head when I became a mom. I was a triggered, an empty vessel, coasting through life in a numbed state of mind. I didn’t find joy in anything, I was disassociated and couldn’t make sense of what was real or not, and I didn’t feel any emotion anymore. That’s when I had to radically accept change into my life and heal from the things that hurt me to my core. I had to peel every piece of armor I had put on in life, acknowledge the coping mechanisms that I carried like weapons to keep me safe from the unknown, and look at my younger self and adult me in the mirror and say “enough!”. You know how hard that journey is? It’s debilitating. To finally accept that while I didn’t deserve any of it, I put up with it and kept inviting trauma dressed in different clothes back into my life. I was the one in the end breaking my own heart and the very person I was armed and suited up fighting against.

Radical Acceptance isn’t an easy task. It is a mindset to eventually get too be so good at, you don’t have to think about it anymore. It’s being able to check in with yourself, acknowledge your emotions and feelings, and then deciding which way to move forward. It is very empowering and gives you strength. It takes the power back from those that we feel inclined to lend it to, to remind ourselves that our opinion of ourselves is the most important and gives us freedom to choose self-love and acceptance into our life. Then in return, we are being examples to our children, peers, friends, family who are ready to walk the same journey. To say, enough, that chapter has closed. I will not allow what has happened or what will happen, dictate what I am going to do right now in the present.

You know that corny line, life is a gift so live in the present? That is a hard thing to do without a lot of inner work. But it is obtainable. I am living proof. There is another corny line, if I can do it, you can too! Well, I guess what I am trying to say, those corny lines don’t feel so corny anymore. They feel real and empowering. They feel so freeing that I won’t ever step backwards into a place where I don’t feel those very things in my core.

by Lea Wetzel, Drop-in Center Coordinator

April 18, 2023

Forgiveness is a big part of a healing journey. It takes a lot of acceptance to be able to forgive and to acknowledge there is a need to understand that whatever it is that is holding one back, or is causing inner conflicts, is not always ours to own. We do not have to completely understand the reasoning behind one’s negative doing to us, we don’t ever have to forget, but being able to forgive, can allow healing and growth to continue.  

Without forgiveness, whatever it is that is bothering us, can become very toxic to one’s wellbeing. Practicing forgiveness helps if you have worked on positive change within your inner self. Just as you would start slowly with a new physical exercise routine, it helps if you build up your forgiving heart muscles slowly, incorporating regular “exercises”, or practices.

You can start this process by making a commitment to do no harm to ourselves or others. In other words, making a conscious effort not to talk negatively about those who’ve hurt you. If you keep from talking negatively, it will start to open the forgiving side of your mind and heart.

You can also make a practice of recognizing that every person is unique, special, and irreplaceable. Everyone has their own story and journey that they are on, and things that they have gone through. This doesn’t mean what harm they have done to you, is okay. It only means that you are your own unique and special self, and there is no need to act on, react to another’s ignorance, or their lack of ability to be kind and respectful to others. You may come to this through your beliefs, spirituality, or religion. It’s important to cultivate a mindset of valuing all of humanity, so that it becomes harder to discount someone who has harmed you.

You can show love in small ways in everyday encounters. Like smiling at others, holding the door, taking time to listen to a child. Giving love when it’s unnecessary helps to build the love muscle, making it easier to show compassion toward everyone. If you practice small acts of forgiveness, it starts extending care when someone harms you. This can help in everyday life.

Sometimes pride and power can weaken your efforts to forgive by making you feel entitled, so that you hang onto your resentment as a with cause. Try to catch yourself when you are acting from that place, and choose forgiveness, instead. If you need inspiration, it can help to seek out stories of others, to get out of self, and have your own understanding, and acceptance that what other’s do, maybe terribly wrong, but it doesn’t have to stunt the growth and forgiveness of yourself and can be a practice that you do at your own pace.

There is no right or wrong way to “practice” or implement this into your own life. I am not saying these are the answers, they are simply suggestions and ways that have helped support the forgiveness process in my own life. In some of these suggestions and practices are things I researched along the way and have supported the pathway of my own healing and growing journey.