I used to think that understanding something meant I had a pretty good handle on it.
I could explain why I behaved certain ways, and I understood how my childhood experiences shaped my relationships. I also knew why anxiety made me react to situations that other people barely noticed, and why I kept returning to things I knew weren’t good for me.
I could connect the dots, and I was quite good at connecting the dots, actually.
But knowing why something happens doesn’t necessarily mean you know what to do about it.
You can understand the science behind addiction without knowing what it’s like to promise yourself you’ll stop drinking tomorrow, only to make the same promise the next morning. You can study depression without knowing how exhausting it is to pretend you’re fine when getting out of bed feels like a huge accomplishment.
October 10 is World Mental Health Day, which is a great opportunity to talk about mental health and question some of the assumptions we make about people who struggle. It also seems like a good time to consider how much we can learn from people who have actually lived through mental illness and addiction.
There’s a difference between knowing and living
We need trained professionals. We need research, effective treatment, and people who understand how the brain works. I would never suggest otherwise.
But there are things you learn through experience that are difficult to explain in a textbook. Take addiction, for example.
Someone can understand the neurological changes associated with substance dependence, recognise the symptoms, and know which treatments are most effective. That’s all important knowledge, but that doesn’t necessarily explain how a person can desperately want to stop drinking while also planning when they’ll drink again.
It also doesn’t explain the mental gymnastics in convincing yourself that your drinking isn’t really a problem because you still have a job and pay your bills.
From an outside perspective, it can seem completely irrational. From the inside, there’s an elaborate system of explanations, excuses, and promises that seems to make sense at the time.
Mental health struggles can be equally difficult to understand from the outside. Someone going through anxiety might know perfectly well that a situation isn’t dangerous. That doesn’t stop their heart from racing or their mind from imagining every possible thing that could go wrong.
This is what I find so important about lived experience. It tells us something about what people are dealing with beyond the symptoms listed in a diagnostic manual.
The things we don’t always tell people
I think one of the hardest parts of mental illness and addiction is how much energy goes into hiding it.
People become experts at appearing okay. They go to work, take care of their families, answer messages, and show up for appointments. Meanwhile, they’re struggling. I know how easy it is to build a life that looks reasonably successful while privately feeling as though you’re falling apart. When you’re good at functioning, people tend to believe you’re fine.
There’s also the shame. The feeling that you should know better and do better.
People with depression may feel guilty because they have things in their lives to be grateful for. Someone with anxiety might feel embarrassed about fears they can’t explain. People struggling with addiction may spend years comparing themselves to someone whose drinking or drug use seems worse.
Well, at least I’m not doing that.
It’s a remarkably effective way to avoid looking too closely at your own life.
When people talk honestly about these experiences, it challenges the assumptions we’ve made about what mental illness or addiction is supposed to look like.
Sometimes the person who appears to have everything under control is the one who needs help.
What happens when someone says, “Me too”
I know how uncomfortable it can feel to talk honestly about addiction, especially in the beginning. There are things you don’t want to admit, even to yourself. And there are things you assume nobody else could possibly understand.
Then you hear someone describe something you’ve done, thought, or felt. They may talk about hiding alcohol or making promises they couldn’t keep, and instead of feeling judged, you feel recognised.
I think that’s one of the most valuable things about connecting with people who have lived through addiction or mental health challenges.
You don’t have to explain every detail, and don’t have to convince them that what you’re experiencing is real. Sometimes they understand the part of the story you haven’t quite figured out how to put into words.
Of course, nobody’s experience is exactly the same. Two people can struggle with alcohol, depression, or trauma and have completely different histories and symptoms. But hearing someone talk about an experience that you can relate to makes it easier to be honest about what’s happening.
Peer support in recovery
Peer support means that people who have experienced mental health challenges or addiction are using what they’ve learned to support others. It may happen through formal programmes with trained peer workers, recovery groups, or relationships built during treatment.
What I appreciate about peer support is that it isn’t supposed to be about one person having all the answers. Someone with years of recovery may have learned a great deal, but that doesn’t mean they know exactly what another person should do. They can share what helped them and offer encouragement when things are hard.
A 2024 review published in BMC Medicine reviewed existing research on peer support approaches for mental health. The researchers found promising benefits in some areas, although the findings varied and more research is needed to understand which approaches work best (Cooper et al., 2024).
Peer support isn’t a substitute for therapy, medical care, or other professional treatment. Having lived through something doesn’t make someone qualified to provide clinical advice. However, there’s something valuable about sitting across from someone who understands what it feels like to be where you are, especially when you’re having trouble imagining that things could ever be different.
Recovery is usually never the story we expected
I used to think recovery would mean fixing whatever was wrong and moving on with my life.
That sounds reasonable enough, doesn’t it?
People are considerably more complicated than that. After over seven years sober, I have realized that alcohol and drugs were only part of the problem.
You may stop drinking and realise you still have anxiety. I did. You may begin treatment for depression and discover how much of your life has been organised around avoiding difficult feelings. I did that too. You may understand where your trauma came from and still struggle with how it affects your relationships. Yes, I did that too.
After I got sober and stayed sober for a while, I realised there was a whole lot of work for me to do on myself.
But then there’s progress, and it’s not always obvious. Sometimes it’s setting a boundary you would once have been afraid to set. Sometimes it’s recognising that you’re overwhelmed and asking for help before everything gets worse.
Listening to people with different recovery experiences reminds us that there isn’t one neat timeline everyone is supposed to follow.
Some people experience setbacks, and some need different types of treatment at different points in their lives. Others discover that what helped them early in recovery isn’t necessarily what they need several years later.
I think we do people a disservice when we only tell the success stories that wrap everything up nicely. Real recovery is usually messy.
Lived experience can help us rethink treatment
There’s another reason lived experience matters, and it goes beyond the support people offer one another.
People who have received mental health or addiction treatment know something about what it’s like to be on the receiving end of care.
For example, they know how frightening it can be to make that first phone call. They may remember sitting in an assessment, wondering whether they can trust the person asking questions. They know what it feels like when a professional takes their concerns seriously, and what happens when they don’t.
Those experiences can help improve treatment services. The World Health Organization (2023) has called for greater involvement of people with lived experience in developing mental health policies, programmes and services, and this makes sense.
If we’re trying to understand why people struggle to access treatment, perhaps we should ask the people who have tried to access it. If we want to know whether a treatment programme feels supportive, we should listen to the people who have gone through it.
If we want to understand what recovery looks like after someone leaves treatment, the people living that experience have a great deal to teach us.
Professional expertise is and will always be essential, but treatment can become more responsive when the people receiving care have a voice in how that care is provided.
This World Mental Health Day, we could start by listening
World Mental Health Day is an opportunity to learn more about mental health and talk about these subjects that need to be discussed.
I also think there’s something to be said for admitting how much we still don’t understand.
We tend to have certain ideas about what depression, addiction, and recovery are supposed to look like. Then we talk to someone who has actually lived through it, and we realise how much we don’t know.
These are things we learn when we make room for people’s experiences instead of assuming we already understand them.
I’ve learned a great deal about mental health and addiction from professionals, books, and research. But some of the most important things I’ve learned have come from people who were willing to tell me what their lives were actually like.
Their experiences didn’t always resemble mine, and their answers weren’t always the ones I expected. That was part of what made listening so worthwhile.
Camino Recovery is here for you
At Camino Recovery, we understand that mental health and addiction affect people differently. Our treatment programmes take into account not only someone’s symptoms, but also their history, relationships, and individual needs.
If you’re struggling with addiction or mental health issues, you don’t need to have everything figured out before asking for help. Contact us to talk about what you’re experiencing and see the treatment options available to you.
References:
- Cooper, R.E., Saunders, K.R.K., Greenburgh, A. et al. The effectiveness, implementation, and experiences of peer support approaches for mental health: a systematic umbrella review. BMC Med 22, 72 (2024).
- World Health Organization. (2023). WHO framework for meaningful engagement of people living with noncommunicable diseases, and mental health and neurological conditions.
- World Health Organization. (n.d.). World Mental Health Day.
