Peer Reflections

Nurturing Wellness through Creativity and Compassion
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Tag: recovery

  • Box Office Gratitude

    I’m going to be a bit vulnerable today. When it comes to TV shows and movies, I tend to stick with old favorites. Even my kids can predict the general order of what I’ll choose to watch—Gilmore Girls, How I Met Your Mother, Friends, New Girl, and documentaries on Earth, wildlife, Egypt, and space. It’s a familiar cycle.

    I re-watch these shows because I know exactly what’s coming. There are no unexpected triggers, no emotional landmines. This is also why I absolutely detest going to the movie theater. My movie choices follow the same pattern—I cycle through The Mummy (1-3), Harry Potter (1-7), and Jurassic Park (all of them).

    I avoid movies that make me cry. The Croods, almost anything Disney, and Inside Out—I can’t do it. Don’t get me wrong, they’re beautifully made, but they hit too close to home. The emotions they stir up aren’t just about sadness; they bring up grief, loss, and truths that are hard to face.

    Recently, I made the mistake of going to see Inside Out 2 with my family. I had told them I didn’t want to go. I even suggested my husband take them instead. But they were sweet, encouraging me to come along. And so, I did.

    I bawled.

    Not just a few tears—I sobbed. The movie hit me hard, forcing me to confront emotions I wasn’t ready for. By the time the credits rolled and the lights came on, my kids turned to me and said, “Yup, you were right. You cried.”

    My kids are at the age where they ask hard questions. They’re curious, thoughtful, and I’ve done a good job raising them to be unafraid of emotions. They wanted to understand—What part made you cry?

    It was difficult to explain. I shared a little about my past, just enough to help them make sense of my reaction. But their questions lingered throughout the week, popping up at random moments. I wanted to meet their curiosity with honesty, but I also wanted to protect them.

    And then, a realization hit me.

    Their inability to fully understand my grief is a good thing. They’ve never had to hide under a parked car to protect themselves from someone chasing them. They don’t have to fear that when their dad and I get upset, we’ll break their bedroom door in half.

    They don’t carry that kind of fear because they are safe. They are loved.

    And that fills me with pride.

    At the same time, grief sneaks in—because I didn’t get that same childhood. I didn’t grow up in a home where emotions were handled with care. But instead of letting that consume me, I remind myself: I am breaking cycles. I am giving them what I never had.

    And for that, I am grateful.

  • Exploring Emotional Regulation

    A Journey Through Core Emotions

    For the next several weeks, we’ll be exploring emotional regulation through primary emotions: anger, happiness, sadness, and fear. These emotions are widely recognized as the most universal emotions. Of course, emotions are complex and layered, but these will provide a firm foundation for understanding how we experience and regulate them.

    Starting From Scratch

    It might feel strange to start from scratch. I don’t know about you, but I’m in my 40s, and honestly, I never really took the time to learn what each emotion meant for me—where I felt it in my body, how it showed up, and what it made me feel like. Instead, I grew up being told what emotions should look and feel like. It wasn’t until I was in day treatment that I took the time to understand emotions with fresh eyes and an open mind.

    Going back to the basics—being curious and noticing—helped me reach an important stage: labeling my emotions. This allowed me to eventually understand what I needed in those moments, whether that was comfort, space, or a way to calm myself down. This is the same process that children are introduced to in preschool and kindergarten, yet many of us never got the chance to fully integrate it into our adult lives.

    But emotions are tricky. Even when we think we have them figured out, they evolve, showing up in new ways. At one point, the idea of never fully solving the “puzzle” of emotions terrified me. And, to be honest, I still don’t always welcome my emotions with open arms. But I’ve become less afraid of looking inward and being honest with myself—and that, in itself, is a huge step. We’ll get into those deeper layers later this year, but for now, let’s focus on the foundation.

    What is emotional regulation?

    Emotional regulation isn’t about controlling or suppressing emotions—it’s about noticing, understanding, and responding to them in ways that support our well-being. It’s about recognizing what’s happening inside of us before we react, so we can make choices that align with our values rather than acting on impulse. It’s not about being less emotional—it’s about being more aware of what our emotions are telling us.

    This process starts with three key things:

    1. Noticing – Taking a step back to observe what we’re feeling, where we’re feeling it in our bodies, and how it’s showing up.
    2. Curiosity – Approaching our emotions with a sense of wonder rather than judgment. Instead of thinking, I shouldn’t feel this way, we can ask, Why am I feeling this? What is this emotion trying to tell me?
    3. Non-Judgment – Allowing ourselves to feel without labeling emotions as “good” or “bad.” All emotions serve a purpose. The goal isn’t to avoid difficult emotions but to navigate them with compassion.

    Looking Ahead

    Over the next several weeks, we’ll explore each of these core emotions in depth, breaking them down into:

    • What they are and why they matter
    • How they show up in our bodies
    • The difference between the emotion itself and our reactions to it
    • How noticing these emotions early can help us regulate them
    • Tools to navigate them in a healthier way

    Each week will focus on one emotion, starting with anger—an emotion that many of us struggle with but one that, when understood, can actually be a powerful tool for self-awareness and boundary-setting.

    This isn’t about fixing or changing how you feel—it’s about building awareness so that you can respond to your emotions in ways that feel right for you.

    I hope you’ll join me on this journey, and if you have thoughts, reflections, or experiences you want to share, I’d love to hear them. Let’s start by getting curious together.

  • Violet Veil

    Photo by Shannon

    Art has always been my sanctuary, my solace, and my voice when words fail to capture the complexity of my emotions.

    “Violet Veil” emerged from a moment of profound reflection. The interplay of vibrant purples and reds in this image reflects the layers of emotion I was experiencing: the deep shadows of pain interwoven with the soft light of hope. The flowers, delicate yet resilient, seem to push through the veil, symbolizing growth and transformation even in the midst of struggle.

    Through this piece, I was reminded that beauty can exist alongside sorrow, and that healing often involves embracing the contrasts—the vivid and the muted, the joy and the ache. Violet Veil invites the viewer to look closer, to pause and notice the intricate details that often go unseen, much like the small but significant moments of healing in our own journeys. Art allows us to find clarity where there was once only chaos, and Violet Veil serves as a testament to the power of seeing through the layers—both in the image and within ourselves.

  • Love/Hate Relationship with Emotions

    I continue to have a love/hate relationship with emotions. Logically, I know that emotions help us figure out our needs, and I love that. It’s something I am continually learning, as each emotion and situation has its own nuances. Emotions are complex, and I often find myself lost in them. But I’m grateful that I can take a curious approach to them. Over time, I’ve learned not to fight my emotions but to sit with them and ask: What does this mean? How can I support myself?

    The frustrating part—the part I still struggle to flow with—is when a random emotion hits out of nowhere.

    I wake up in a good mood, feeling rested, going about my day, and then BAM! Like a rogue wave crashing over me, an emotion floods in suddenly and intensely. I’m not always graceful or accepting in moments like this. I get frustrated and overwhelmed. But living with PTSD means this will be a continual battle, and the best way I know to thrive through emotional or physical flashbacks is to give my emotions space.

    The hardest part for me is not knowing what triggered the rogue wave of emotions. I’ve spent hours—even days—trying to figure it out, digging for the root cause. But my best success comes when I acknowledge and validate the emotion rather than interrogate it. Instead of chasing the “why,” I focus on supporting myself through it.

    Sometimes, that support looks like allowing myself to cry. Other times, it’s reaching out to a trusted person who won’t make the emotion worse. It’s giving myself space and time to take care of myself.

    Sometimes, this interferes with my plans—because the emotions feel too big to function. Other times, I can box them up and carry on, dealing with the gnawing annoyance of them in the back of my mind.

    But no matter what, I will carry on.

    I will take the time to address things as they arise and remind myself that taking care of me is not just important—it’s necessary.

  • Emotional Regulation Myths

    Regulating our emotions is something we’ve been doing since we were babies. Back then, it was purely instinctive—crying when we were hungry, cold, or gassy. Our caregivers had to play a guessing game to figure out what we needed. Over time, we learned to smile, laugh, and eventually talk—developing new ways to express ourselves. But what many of us don’t realize is that this process of learning and adjusting our emotional responses continues throughout our lives.

    To build a healthier relationship with our emotions, we need to dismantle old beliefs and thought patterns. Just like we set our intentions with gratitude, we can take the time to notice, be curious, and remain nonjudgmental. What are some of the thoughts and beliefs you hold about emotions? Do they align with what you know to be true?

    Here are three common myths about emotional regulation:

    Myth 1: Emotions Are Either “Good” or “Bad”

    Many of us were taught that emotions fit into neat categories—joy and happiness were “good,” while sadness and anger were “bad” or “negative.” I grew up believing this, and it shaped how I viewed and processed my emotions.

    Truth:

    The reality is, there are no “good” or “bad” emotions. Emotions are signals—they give us insight into what we’re experiencing, and each one serves a purpose. Some emotions might be easier to handle, while others challenge us, but none are inherently bad. Emotions help us make decisions, show us what matters to us, deepen our connections with others, and even help our bodies survive. The harder emotions—grief, anger, frustration—often point us toward things we feel deeply about. They don’t need to be feared or suppressed; they need to be understood.

    Myth 2: We Can Only Feel One Emotion at a Time

    We often think emotions come one at a time—if someone dies, we must feel only sadness. If there is injustice, we must be only angry. On Christmas morning, we must be only joyful.

    Truth:

    Emotions are complex and layered. We can feel many emotions at once. Christmas morning might bring joy, but it can also carry grief and nostalgia. When someone says something hurtful, we might feel both sadness and anger. While emotions are universal, they are deeply personal—two people can experience the same emotion in completely different ways. Instead of trying to categorize emotions as singular experiences, we can embrace their complexity and learn from them.

    Myth 3: Big Emotions Mean I’m Out of Control or Being “Dramatic”

    Many of us have been made to feel like big emotions—intense sadness, overwhelming joy, deep anger—mean we are out of control, overreacting, or even “crazy.”

    Truth:

    Experiencing big emotions does not mean you are out of control. It does not make you “dramatic” or “crazy.” You are allowed to feel and express emotions, no matter how intense they are. True emotional intelligence is not about suppressing feelings—it’s about recognizing, understanding, and moving through them in a healthy way. A real friend or supportive person will hold space for your emotions rather than criticize you for them. Being vulnerable isn’t a weakness—it’s a sign of strength, self-awareness, and emotional growth.

    Healthier Relationship to Emotions

    Now that we’ve broken down these myths, we can start working toward a healthier relationship with our emotions. By embracing the full spectrum of our feelings and letting go of harmful labels, we can learn to navigate our emotions in ways that honor who we are—without shame or judgment.

    For some, this means relearning what emotions truly are. Taking the time to notice, name, and explore emotions can be a crucial step in healing. Many of us were never properly taught about emotions—what they mean, how they function, or how to process them in a healthy way.

    For example, I once tied the feeling of love to things and people who were toxic. My understanding of love had been twisted from a young age, shaped by manipulation and grooming. I believed I was loved not for who I was, but for what I could offer. I had to break down even the most basic emotions—love, happiness, sadness—so I could rewire my brain to recognize what I truly needed, rather than what I had been told to accept.

    In the coming posts, I’ll be diving deeper into a few major emotion, exploring what they mean and how we can build a healthier relationship with them. I challenge you to do the same—look at each emotion, even the simplest ones, and ask yourself: What does this emotion mean to me now, as someone healing and reclaiming my story?

  • Through The Lens: Ice & Emotions

    Photo by Shannon

    Through the Lens: Ice and Emotions

    The ice on Lake Superior can do some pretty impressive things. Waves push shards onto the shore, shifting and moving them miles down the coast in a matter of days—or even hours. The ice on Lake Superior is both unstable and magnificent at the same time.

    With camera in hand and ice cleats attached, I take a calculated risk to capture the shards that fascinate me. The details, the shapes, the color—I am drawn in, mesmerized by their raw beauty. As I stand there, I reflect on the way emotions are similar to these ice shards…

    Emotions can feel sharp. They can feel cold, catching you off guard. They shift, they spike, they fall, they freeze—emotions are notorious for being unpredictable.

    We can put all our energy into controlling or suppressing them, trying to force them into a box. Or we can choose to observe them as they shift.

    As emotions rise and fall, I remind myself that managing them is a lot like observing the ice on Superior. I am both fearful of the fragile space they claim and in awe of their beauty and arrangement.

  • Gratitude Through Vulnerability

    Relearning Emotions

    During my recovery and fight against mental illness, I had to break down my version and definition of what emotions were. They were labeled poorly—shaped by unhealthy core beliefs and the lessons imprinted on me as a young child. My understanding of emotions, molded by these flawed beliefs, was fundamentally broken. The beliefs I carried about emotions weren’t truly my own; they were absorbed from the people and environments around me.

    Life Before

    As a child, when I cried, I was told to stop or risk being given something to cry about. When I was angry, I heard, “It’s not that big of a deal,” or, “You’re being unreasonable.” Over time, I internalized these messages: certain emotions were unacceptable. Feeling sadness, anger, or frustration meant I was wrong, unreasonable, or dramatic. These beliefs became roadblocks that made it nearly impossible to express or process my emotions in healthy ways.

    Reconstructing my understanding of emotions during recovery was humbling and uncomfortable. At times, I felt like a toddler learning to walk—clumsy, unsure, and frustrated by my lack of control. I had to learn to pause, look inward, and identify what I was feeling. I had to give myself permission to feel emotions I had long been told were unacceptable.

    Life Now

    But even now, the process isn’t easy. Sharing my feelings with others often makes me feel vulnerable, like I’m navigating unsteady terrain. It’s especially difficult when someone responds harshly or tells me I’m being dramatic. In those moments, I remind myself of an important truth: their reaction is often a reflection of their own struggles with emotional awareness, not mine.

    I’ve learned to take a step back and ask myself a simple but profound question: Is this mine to carry? More often than not, the answer is no. Their judgment is a sign of their discomfort with emotions, not a reflection of my worth. I’ve learned to approach these moments with gratitude—for the clarity to discern what’s mine and the strength to let go of what isn’t.

    Powerful Realization

    Through this process, I came to a powerful realization: there are no good or bad emotions. They’re all part of the human experience, each one offering us valuable insight if we’re willing to listen. Ironically, the emotions most people consider “easy,” like joy and happiness, were—and still are—the hardest for me to embrace.

    I had spent so much of my life feeling anger, frustration, neglect, and abandonment that those emotions felt familiar—even comfortable in a strange way. But joy? Love? Happiness? Those were foreign to me. I didn’t know what they felt like, and I didn’t know how to let myself fully experience them.

    Relearning my emotions has been one of the hardest and most rewarding parts of my recovery. It’s taught me to sit with discomfort, embrace vulnerability, and, most importantly, find gratitude—not just for the easy moments, but for the strength to keep going when joy feels out of reach.

    Gratitude became my anchor. It allowed me to shift my focus from what I couldn’t control to the small, meaningful moments of growth and healing I could celebrate. With time, I began to see my emotions not as burdens but as guides—tools that help me navigate life and connect more deeply with myself and others. I welcomed the vulnerability needed to address and share my emotions.

    Have you ever found certain emotions harder to embrace? What beliefs about emotions are you carrying, and are they serving you?

    Remember: there are no “wrong” emotions. They are all valid, and they all matter. The courage to feel them, even when it’s hard, is something to be proud of.

  • What is Emotional Regulation

    In this post, we’ll explore what emotional regulation is, why it’s so challenging to define, and why processing our emotions is essential for our well-being.

    Emotional regulation is a term often used in the mental health world to describe how we manage and control our emotions “effectively.” I’ve sometimes found this definition frustrating because words like “effectively” and “socially acceptable” are subjective. What’s effective for one person might not be for another.

    Real Life Examples:

    It’s a normal day at work, and you’re called into the HR department at the end of your shift. You’re told your position is being cut, and you’re being let go. One person might respond by raising their voice, packing up their desk in frustration and disbelief. Another might cry quietly, overwhelmed by uncertainty about what’s next. Yet another might smile, feeling a sense of relief and freedom. So, which of these reactions demonstrates emotional regulation? It might surprise you to know that all three are valid.

    This idea of effective emotional management becomes even murkier when we consider how different cultures and individuals respond to the same emotions. Consider Jessica Chastain ripping off her shirt in celebration after a soccer victory. For her, it was a raw, powerful expression of joy—a moment where passion and triumph took center stage. Yet, some were offended by her display. This paradox illustrates how emotional regulation is deeply subjective, shaped not only by individual beliefs but also by cultural and societal norms.

    In one part of the world, expressing intense emotions might be celebrated—tears of joy, exuberant cheers, or even wild displays of triumph like shaking champagne bottles and spraying everyone after a championship win or shooting a gun in the air.  In another, such displays might be seen as excessive, aggressive or even disrespectful.

    Interesting Paradigm

    This makes emotional regulation a fickle concept, influenced by where you live, who you’re around, and the shared beliefs of your environment. Navigating what’s considered “appropriate” emotional expression can feel like walking a fine line. How do we balance our authentic emotional responses with societal expectations, especially when those expectations vary so widely? It’s an interesting paradigm.

    While we can’t fully untangle the paradox of emotional regulation, it’s important to acknowledge its complexities as we explore the topic. Emotional regulation isn’t about following a rigid rulebook of ‘acceptable’ behavior—it’s about noticing, validating, and processing our emotions in ways that support our well-being. Left unchecked, emotions can grow into larger challenges, but when tended to, they become tools for understanding ourselves and connecting with others.

    In next week’s Peer Reflections post, we’ll explore some common myths about emotions, breaking down misconceptions that might be holding you back from embracing your emotional responses.

  • Lessons From The Northern Lights

    Photo by Shannon

    Capturing the Northern Lights has been a passion of mine for nearly a decade. It’s not only a challenging hobby but one that has fostered a deep appreciation for the sun and the science behind the aurora. The magic of the Northern Lights lies in the beauty brought forth from the sun’s volatile, ever-changing state.

    Did you know that when a solar event occurs, igniting the Northern Lights in our atmosphere, they can dance both day and night? Of course, we can only see their delicate movements when the sun sets and darkness takes over the sky.

    It’s in the darkness that we get to witness the breathtaking dance of molecules colliding and creating something extraordinary.

    Similarly, it was during my darkest hours that I found the beauty of my light. My volatile emotions had often confused and trapped me, leaving me feeling caged by my own feelings. But when I finally took the time to investigate and understand my outbursts and anguish, something shifted. My light was revealed.

    I discovered that I am an incredibly passionate person. My emotions, while big and sometimes overwhelming, have a purpose. Learning this about myself allowed me to uncover the best parts of who I am.

    If you find yourself surrounded by darkness and burdened by pain, take heart. Sometimes the hardest, most painful parts of yourself will become the very things you come to cherish the most. Just as the Northern Lights emerge from the chaos of the sun, your light will shine in its own time.

    .

  • Thankful For Day Treatment

    Grateful for the Day Treatment Program

    I don’t think I’ve mentioned this yet, but attending the day treatment program truly changed my life, and I’m deeply grateful for the nudge to attend—even though at the time it made me feel broken. The truth was, I was struggling with serious and persistent mental health issues. At first, attending was something I had to do. But at some point in the middle, I decided to fully commit and try the skills and suggestions being offered.

    It was through the trial-and-error phase that I learned the most about myself and experienced the most growth. The cool thing is, I can now see both sides of the coin. It would have been amazing to write a letter to my past self, to let her know that things would get better, that there would come a day when I would be proud of myself and have compassion for myself.

    Hindsight is a powerful place to observe, but it reignites a fire within me to continue sharing these stories of hardship and struggle. The world is full of people who suffer and struggle, and having been there, my heart breaks for both the pain of others and the old me.

    It makes sense now why I did things the way I did and made the choices I made back then. Being on this side of healing doesn’t make life any less challenging or problem-free, but I am grateful that I’ve learned to use the skills I gained to not only survive—but to thrive.

    And now, I feel called to share my journey with others—those just beginning their own paths or those currently in the depths of pain. There’s always room for the hard and ugly moments in life, and down the road, those struggles can actually become your superpower.