The Power of Acceptance: Finding Peace in Life's Hardest Truths

We all make mistakes in life and for those who suffer from mental health issues, those mistakes can feel as if life is against us. Many times, negative and traumatic events happen in our youth, often inflicted by the people closest to us. We are then left to navigate life with that trauma weighing us down. No matter how much work we do to resolve our issues, we can still feel the trauma. When triggered, those hurtful memories and negative feelings overwhelm our minds, leaving us stewing in negative emotions.

Once triggered, one of the first things we often do is engage in negative self-talk. If we don't take control of our emotions, this can become a slippery slope where feelings of worthlessness take hold. Once we feel worthless, we start believing we have no place in this world, and soon, we find ourselves in the pit of despair.

How can we stop the negative self-talk? We must learn to be open with ourselves and accept reality. It's understandable to feel anger and sadness when reflecting on our trauma, but we can't live within those emotions. We must accept what happened: that we lost a piece of ourselves and replaced it with trauma. That is a hard truth and definitely triggering.

One of my main triggers stems from moving to Las Vegas from Indiana. In Las Vegas, I was being abused and begged my mother to move. Even though I never told her what was happening, there were red flags — I gained weight, failed in school, and didn't have friends. My parents were divorcing, and my dad didn't have the courage to fight for me. He gave up and moved back to Indiana, where all my family and friends were, and I was left alone, stuck on my mom's magic carpet ride. 

My mom was only willing to move for her new boyfriend, not for me. She put more effort into finding a man who could provide the things she wanted rather than my well-being. It took years of therapy for me to accept that. Yes, it hurt accepting I was never going to be her priority in life, and she made it clear when she never visited me in the hospital during a mental health breakdown. However, once I accepted all her choices were made for her and her alone, it lessened the pain. That is who she is, and I had no control over that. I could only control how I react when triggered. 

So, when I see Mother's Day balloons and decorations at the grocery store, it triggers me. I start to think of when my mother would say, "I did everything for you," almost like she was looking for a reward or regard for her choices. Now, instead of negative self-talk, I tell myself I had no control over her choices, especially the men that she chose to be role models for me.

Unfortunately, my male role models didn't model great behavior. First there was my father who abandoned me. After him, she had two options: a drifter with a motorcycle or an art dealer who eventually turned out to be a con artist. She chose the con artist, and after five years of being promised materialistic things while giving him our money, she left him and reconnected with the drifter who had given up his motorcycle and got a house and boat. Poor and desperate, she married the drifter who had abandoned his own kid and now spent all of his free time drinking copious amounts of liquor while getting drunk at the lake. In therapy, I had to keep telling myself over and over that I had no control over my mother's actions and choices. The sad reality is that I didn't fully see who my mother was until I was in my forties and starting to heal.

I wish I would have made different decisions growing up. Maybe I should have lived with my grandmother or cousins? But I can't play the "what if" game. Choices were made, and I must accept them. For me, that's the key to living with mental health issues: acceptance. If we don't accept what happened to us, self-loathing sets in, and we find ourselves right back in that cycle of negative thoughts. 

I've uncovered more about my past through therapy, self-reflection, and mindfulness. I also reflect on my mistakes in adulthood, each a lesson to learn from. It saddens me that I have learned from my mistakes, yet my parents never acknowledge their mistakes. They defend their actions and refuse to take ownership, which triggers thoughts that I was meant to suffer. Pulling myself out of that headspace is tough.

We must accept pain as part of life. Mistakes will happen. Sometimes, those mistakes are enormous, with ripples that last for years or even a lifetime. But there must come a point when we want to heal, and we become transparent with others and ourselves, admit our mistakes, own them, and do our best to resolve them and move forward.

When we can acknowledge our trauma without being triggered by it, we are healing and moving in the right direction. The ultimate goal is to be able to face and acknowledge the pain that stems from our trauma and eventually learn to live with it or even make peace with it. If we can make peace with our trauma, we regain control rather than letting trauma control us.

Mental health issues don't magically go away. I spent so long not telling anyone about my abuse that I became an expert at lying to myself. Self-sabotage became my norm, and I never fully processed what happened to me. I tried to push forward in life while harboring anger inside, but no matter what I did, I couldn't escape the negative thoughts. I couldn't feel love, especially self-love, and I didn't believe I was worthy of love.

I wish I could say I love myself, but I'm not there yet. I've accepted the realities of my past, and now I'm focusing on forgiveness, which starts with forgiving myself. 

We must take ownership of our healing and be committed to the process of learning to live with trauma and not just wish it away. Accepting our trauma and learning to forgive ourselves can change the narrative. The pain may still exist, but it no longer has to define who we are. We are more than our trauma, our mistakes, and the pain we carry. Our strength lies in our ability to face those struggles, embrace our imperfections, and keep pushing forward in life.