April. May. July. Early September.
For years, I’ve posted on social media and in my newsletters about ways to remember and honor Sexual Assault Awareness Month, Mental Health Awareness Month, Minority Mental Health Awareness Month and Suicide Awareness Week, respectively. But not this year. Not last year.
I watched these seasons roll by and said nothing. Wrote nothing. Posted nothing on social media.
I started to ask myself why, and then I flipped the question. Why have I shared so much about mental health and sexual assault awareness? Most of me is happy to keep my hard experiences and healing to myself. But years ago, I felt distinct callings to speak out about these issues because silence fosters shame and hampers healing. Because I knew how meaningful it can be to know that you are not alone in these alienating and painful experiences. And because I could. Or I was willing to lose what was at stake when I did.
And … because these are some of the big stories of my life. For years after becoming a survivor of sexual violence, I measured time and my life by who I was before that date and who I was afterwards. I measure my life in reference to meaningful events I experience. (You can see this in how I wrote the chapters in my book Bipolar Faith.) Because this is how I feel it. And some experiences and events shape my life and work and ministry in significant ways. This is my approach to healing. Rather than seeking closure, I seek integration. I seek to merge what splinters my self into a coherent whole so that these difficult and painful experiences become one of the many stories in my life.
And now, years and years later, the experiences of being a survivor of sexual violence, and of being someone who lives with a mental health challenge … are no longer the biggest stories of my life. I still care about these issues, and speak about them, and support organizations and individuals in a variety of ways. But they don’t feel like my biggest stories anymore.
I think this is why I’ve been quiet recently. Because a new big story is emerging. (Well, I’m finishing up a book manuscript, but that’s not what I mean.) I’m not sure what it is. It may be the story of being a daughter and a mother – which has felt and feels huge. It may be a story of connecting with family, faith and ancestors in a new way. It may be a story of love, hope and boundaries. These are the things that feel big to me now. But I’m in the middle of it and I am trying to find myself in these narratives while steadily moving the plots forward.
I guess this is part of growth and aging – we add to our stories and what feels most pressing changes over time. And even though I know we can’t wait until the “happily ever after” to tell our stories (if we even get a “happily ever after”), I still find it hard to speak loudly about the messy middle. I’m trying to get better about this.
So that’s where I am – in the messy middle of some new big stories. Have you ever been in the middle of an unfinished experience? Have you felt your big life stories shift? If you’re up to it, I’d love to hear from you about it.
Dr. Monica
