“I Did Not Fail”: a pre-post

Dear Blog Readers,

Four words. Four short words no more than four letters long. Four words to capture a significant reminder for every night before sleep, “I did not fail“. In our next post Sharon will share her powerful words and photograph. Her words “I did not fail” resonated so deeply, that I was compelled to share why while also letting her words stand on their own. For these reasons, her words and photo will be featured in a separate post.

You cannot fail. for if you do turn to familiar and comfortable habits, engage in symptoms, or numb yourself in a way you feel regret for, you have not failed. Recovery from any illness is not linear. Recovery itself is a process that is impossible to fail. Each moment is a moment of learning. Each moment is a victory moving you closer to your goal. A relapse is only a lapse. You do not go back to the beginning again. Life is not snakes and ladders. You lapse, and you get up where to left off and keep going. Lapse after lapse, you are not failing, You are learning. When you haven’t yet said the things you need to say, when your voice has not been heard, when you do not feel seen, or your world is falling apart around you and nothing seems like it will ever go right again – you have not failed.

During recovery I had an epiphany. I am not a genius. I won’t be publishing a book about it. It wasn’t even something I hadn’t been told over and over by numerous people. It was one of those moments when the pieces fit together in the puzzle of my journey. I credit a group of incredible people with my recovery. Professionals, friends, my partner. So when anyone told me I had agency it made me prickly. I reacted physically with defensiveness, hurt, and anger. I hated being told that my challenges could be faced by me stepping up and doing what needs to be done. It made me irrationally angry. Bad things beyond my control had happened so why was it my responsibility to make change? I needed someone to step up for me and do the things that needed to be done to allow me to rise. I needed someone to take my hand and guide me through the muck, speaking for me, making the decisions, and doing what I was told.

At least,

I thought I did.

A facilitator at Sheena’s Place once said to me, “you are a gift to so many, but most importantly, you are a gift to yourself.” At the time I thought it was a really kind thing to say, even if it wasn’t true. There were times I remembered the sentiment and my heart felt warm that she thought that about me. I dismissed it as someone being fooled into believing I was a kind, compassionate, and competent human being. Then one day I was brushing my teeth and the words passed through my mind and there it was. The epiphany.

I am a gift to myself.

Only I can do it.

Me. No one else. 

When I accepted that the evil A word was actually an empowering word to hold inside myself, the next steps in recovery opened up to me. No one was going to recover for me. No one was going to recover from my physical illness or improve my quality of life living with a disability, And no one was going to find me happiness, joy, or a feeling of freedom by dropping those things in my lap. I can be a gift to myself when I take on the responsibilities in my life as mine.

And, I had not failed. I may have flailed for awhile (years really) and this had not been a failure. These had been steps on my journey. I was finally ready to lean into the discomfort or as that same facilitator liked to say, I had to “sit in my crap” before I could pull myself out.

I am filled with gratitude and love for the people who have infuriated me with that word: agency. Once I accepted that life was an enormous challenge that I could face step by step with support while making my own decisions and responses, by trusting my problem-solving skills … Once I accepted that, the world opened up to me. For I cannot fail.

Be kind to yourself, and remember to nourish your body, mind, and spirit,

Your blog moderator,

Kira

Click here to see Sharon Miller’s post