Using Peers to Discover Coping Skills: A Valuable Tool
by Sarah Hancock
I went to a group hosted by National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) called
"Peer-to-Peer." It was unlike any other group I had ever been to. At all the
previous groups I'd attended, everyone sat in a circle and we all seemed to
drone on about what wasn't going right with life. By the time I'd listened to
everyone around the circle, the group was over and I left feeling more lost and
hopeless than I had walking into the group.
Initially I was all about talking about my feelings, but year after year of going to
groups of people who were just as stuck as I was, I was sick of hearing about
everyone else's problems because they were getting me nowhere. I wanted
solutions. I wanted answers. Everyone in the group wanted solutions. Everyone
in the group wanted answers! And yet there we sat, week after week staring at
one another while we stayed stuck.
As I started attending NAMI's Peer-to-Peer class, I experienced something
different. First of all, everyone was in a different stage of their rehabilitation.
Some people were unable to work, some worked, some were parents, some were
dating, some were going to school and some people like me were sitting there
wondering how everyone else did it all! The best thing about that group was
that we brainstormed different ways to circumvent symptoms, discussing what
worked for us and what didn't. Suddenly I was surrounded by a room full of
people who were teaching me tried and true symptom relievers. I was building
my tool box of recovery tools I had a lot more faith in because these people
used them.
In this group we laughed about some of the advice we'd received from well
intentioned people who'd never experienced symptoms (i.e. advising a person
with mania to turn their mind off). Some of the ideas were things I'd never even
considered. For example, when I am stressed, noise really affects me. It doesn't
matter if it is the radio, TV, humming refrigerator, ticking clock or kids
laughing. I experience stimulus overload. The greater my stress, the less noise I
can tolerate. The more noise, the more stressed I become. It was a horrible
cycle, but I never recognized it as such. I knew I needed to turn off the radio or
TV, but I didn't recognize I could go a step farther by eliminating ambient noise
entirely, enabling my brain to cool off.
As NAMI meeting I met someone who described the same thing and then how
she dealt with it: Ear Plugs! Well, Duh Sarah! So, I went to the store and
bought myself some. First I tried foam ones and then I tried wax ones. What a
difference! Not only did it help me cut out the noise while I was trying to study
or read, it also cut the noise when I was facing a meltdown and enabled me to
regroup. There are strenuous days when I come home and can't wait to pop in
those silly ear plugs. I also noticed that when I am having problems staying
asleep, if I pop in those plugs, I sleep better because I no longer hear the dog
next door, the person snoring upstairs and the clock on the wall. Sleeping
better helps me distress, allows my medicine to reset my brain and allows me
to feel like a nicer person when I wake up than I was when I fell asleep. What a
concept!
Now that I look back, it seems so simple. Simplistic even. Yet, for whatever
reason, I didn't make the connection between my noise problem and my stress
problem. Sure there were times when I would turn off the radio and TV at every
opportunity I could, yet still have major stimulus problems with stupid things
like my watch and that high pitched noise my phone makes when it's charging.
Even the smallest noise amped up the problem, rather than relieving it.
Doctors didn't recognize it as something that was connected to my stress and
behavior, neither did my counselors. But meeting this woman, who used ear
plugs, changed my life. She taught me an effective coping skill to which I was
previously oblivious. In fact, during the course of the class there were some
ideas I shared with others in that class that they had never considered either.
It was a very validating experience for me because suddenly I wasn't having to
explain my symptoms to someone as though I was talking a foreign language.
Suddenly my insight on my own symptoms was helping others as well.
I think that the more we talk about symptoms, regardless of whether or not
you experience them, it helps you better understand what it is like to live with
the symptoms and help brainstorm ideas which just might alleviate someone's
problem. Even if you don't find a complete solution, part of the solution is
breaking down the stigma associated with the problem.
Sarah Price Hancock, a graduate of San Diego State University's rehabilitation
counseling Masters of Science program with a certificate psychiatric
rehabilitation.
Having embarked on her own journey with a mental health diagnosis, she is
passionate about psychiatric recovery. She enjoys working as a lector
for universities, training upcoming mental health professionals.
Sarah also enjoys sharing insights with peers working to strengthen
their "recovery toolbox." With proper support, Sarah
knows psychiatric recovery isn’t just possible — it’s
probable.
Born and raised in San Diego, California, Sarah served a Spanish-speaking
and ASL mission for the LDS Church in the Texas Dallas Mission. She
was graduated from Ricks College and BYU. Sarah currently resides in
San Diego and inherited four amazing children when she married the
man of her dreams in 2011. She loves writing, public speaking,
ceramics, jewelry-making and kite-flying — not necessarily in
that order.