Embracing Healing: A Journey Through Mental Wellness and Recovery

We like to believe that if someone is struggling with their mental health or battling a substance use disorder, help is always a phone call away. We imagine treatment centers with open doors, understanding friends and family, or a community that says, "We've Got You." I was born and raised in the "Recovery Capitol of The World." Welcome to Palm Beach County, which includes Delray Beach, Florida, where the Recovery Capitol is considered to be located. This is where everyone comes by plane, train, bus, or family car to get help at a dual diagnosis treatment center.

Understanding Dual Diagnosis Treatment Centers

What is a dual diagnosis treatment center? They’ve been around here for years. It treats both the patient's mental health disorder and helps them work on and hopefully conquer their substance use disorder. This often stems from the person trying to survive intense emotions that can shift quickly or slowly. Each person’s journey is uniquely different, yet also uniquely similar.

I want to share a bit of my personal life with you. This is for those who understand this part with family and friends, and for those who don’t, so they can see what some people really go through. It’s important to recognize that it’s not just one person needing help in the family. Mental health and substance use disorders often run in families. There are invisible hurdles everywhere, and each one can be the difference between recovery and relapse, between feeling hope or hopelessness.

The Stigma That Silences Us

One of the heaviest burdens is the way society labels us. Too often, we're seen as "Too Much"—too complicated, too unstable, too unpredictable. Even after we begin to take care of ourselves, people sometimes hold on to the "Old Version" of us, as if our growth doesn’t count. We aren’t looking for applause for the hard work we put in, which many people don’t recognize.

Due to my personal struggles, I strongly recommend distancing yourself from those who cannot accept the new version of you. My personal experience with the people I loved the most turned out to be painful. They caused unnecessary trauma and grief that could have been prevented. If communication had been clearer—if it had been honest and authentic—maybe we would have received the help we desperately sought much sooner.

For about three to four months, everything was far from fine. I was using my survival skills while waiting for help, trying to protect my son from the wrong people. Unfortunately, my loved ones received the wrong information, causing my worst nightmare to come true.

So, I sat with prayer and faith, but I was having a mental meltdown. The person I trusted to explain my situation to my loved ones said everything was fine and that they had it all under control. Eventually, that person became irritated and told my family I was crazy. If they had been honest when my symptoms first started, would any of this have happened? No!

I had no idea what was going on until long after my hospital discharge. As time passed, I learned so much more, and my "Gut Feeling" was right. I was warned by many to watch out for two women I called my best friends. They manipulated my daughter, causing her pain and confusion. Behind my back, they were saying, “Jenn, you’re such a good mother.” But they were not helping me; they were making things worse.

I was simply melting away while trying to hold it together. I was creating a contract to feel safe enough to have my son returned home from these two women. They harassed me about signing papers to give my son to them for however long it took me to get better. I trusted these women, but they were scaring me and pushing me hard to give my rights over to them.

If I had signed those papers, they would have gained rights to my son. What could I have done about it? I don’t know, and I’m not trying to find out. They moved far away, and that’s where they will remain in our lives—far away.

I had no idea I had been surviving for almost four months. By that time, I was so bad that I needed to be hospitalized. I called my daughter, and she showed up immediately. I was scared and wanted my son with her, only her and her father, so I could feel safe enough to go to the hospital. It wasn’t easy letting him go.

I held onto faith that when I returned home from the hospital, we could sit down and talk. Instead, I was met with a child services investigator, not my children. I have just been reunited with my son, and he’s home with me. My daughter has allowed me into her life more than she thought she would, and I must find acceptance for that so we can create a peaceful space in our lives.

The Impact of Trauma on Relationships

My son is now fearful of leaving my side or going anywhere without me. We now face the possibility of him having mental health disorders and sensory issues. We must rebuild knowing that some people will not be joining us and some will remain distanced until they meet me where I am today, not where I was in the past.

My loved ones didn't know how to help. They didn’t take the time to understand me better. They kept the “Old Version” of me alive. Everyone blamed my struggles on my past, as I am known as an alcoholic. Just Linda’s daughter, and everyone knows me by what she says about me. When everyone knows she’s a liar, I still get shunned. But I never gave up.

So, I stand here today, trying to make it through another day, facing all my challenges silently and wearing them like a champion. I strive to be better than I was yesterday. I want to be vulnerable in hopes of helping others so they don’t have to feel alone like I did.

I had to confront my past. I saw the pain and fear in my daughter's eyes, which was terrifying. Not even my daughter knew the new version of me. I’ve been working hard on myself since I became a mother. In 2017, I became honest with myself, and each year, I work harder. Progress, not perfection, as we say in recovery.

If the ones you love aren't around you or involved in your life regularly, it can be a harsh lesson. They can become the scariest people to ask for help. They are supposed to love you and know how to help you.

For others, they might be scared, in denial, or don’t want to be labeled as having mental illness in their family. They might keep you hidden from their world to avoid embarrassment. Remember, just as we deserve respect, so do they.

The Fear of Being Labeled

Many people don’t seek help because they’re terrified of what others will think or how it might affect their jobs, relationships, or opportunities. The fear of a "Paper Trail" from therapy, rehab, or a diagnosis can keep someone silent.

For me, I stayed silent for as long as I could remember. I didn’t want people to know my dad died right in front of me. It was hard to keep my friends from asking about him. My mom kept me active in cheerleading, student council, and other activities to keep my mind off my father’s death.

I grew up hyper and manic, which psychiatrists often sedate. I’ve experienced psychiatric abuse with medications. If anyone has a problem with what I just said, feel free to express your feelings in the comments below. There are many reasons someone might keep silent about their disorder.

I will be presenting a class on my website about this in more depth. Go to www.risingfromstigma.com for up-to-date information on classes and current promotions. We live in a culture where "a person's worst moments" can become their "Permanent Identity."

People today focus more on negativity than on the positive changes others are making. Why is that? We should uplift and support each other instead of tearing each other down. When negativity prevails, asking for help can feel like handing people ammunition to judge us.

The Maze of the System

Even if you're ready to get help, navigating the mental health and addiction treatment system can feel like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. Long waitlists, insurance nightmares, lack of transportation, and lack of support can be daunting.

It's exhausting before you even start the real work of healing. There are still many opportunities that need to open up for people to get the support they need. That’s why I founded this organization. I don’t work for any insurance company; I work for you!

What works for one person may not work for another. With my organization, there is no paper trail to follow you, as I am not a doctor. I am a medical assistant who has helped perform countless ocular surgeries. I offer private support groups if you choose to join—that’s the first and biggest step toward recovery.

If you’d like to have a conversation with just me, reach out to risingfromstigma@gmail.com to become a member or schedule an appointment. If people educated themselves about these disorders, they might develop the empathy and love that someone struggling may need.

The Weight of Past Experiences

For many of us, past attempts at getting help didn’t go well. We may have faced judgment instead of compassion. Perhaps the therapy or rehab program wasn’t a good fit, or we left feeling worse than when we arrived. Those experiences leave scars, making us hesitant to try again.

The Loneliness of The Journey

Recovery is hard enough with a support system. Without one, it can feel like climbing a mountain barefoot. Healing isn’t just about breaking habits or changing thought patterns; it’s about having people who believe in you when you’re too tired to believe in yourself. Cherish those who stand by you.

Why These Hurdles Matter

These barriers aren’t just inconveniences—they can cost lives. Every time stigma makes someone feel unworthy of help, every time the system turns someone away, and every time fear keeps a person silent, recovery becomes harder to reach for both mental illness and substance use.

If you’ve ever struggled, you know we don’t need people to fix us. We need people to stand with us. We need a society that doesn’t treat mental health or substance use like a contagious disease but instead sees them as human experiences that require compassion and care.

A Message to My Readers

If you're walking through these hurdles right now, I see you. I know the weight you carry, and I understand how lonely it can feel. You are not too much. You are not your mistakes. You deserve help, even if you’ve been told otherwise.

For anyone who wants to talk without fear of judgment, I’ve created safe spaces—private chat groups and one-on-one conversations—where we can speak honestly about the hard stuff. Not as patients, not as statistics, but as people determined to heal. Reach out to me at risingfromstigma@gmail.com.

Together, we can navigate this journey towards healing.