Chasing Light: A journey through healing and resilience

by Tina Cole-Mullins

May blooms, not just with flowers, but with a spotlight on mental health awareness. Over the years, I’ve found myself reflecting on the paths I’ve walked and the resilience I’ve built to navigate life’s challenges, one being Bipolar Disorder. This year, I aim to turn the spotlight onto Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)—a condition with a name that often misleads others and can be confused with Bipolar Disorder.

Specifically, I ask: Can stability and growth be achieved within the environments that create this disorder? I believe it can, though it takes diligent, day-to-day work and a proper treatment plan.

“I feel like someone smashed my internal compass and left me with no direction in life.”

This overwhelming sense of disorientation re-shaped my life, including much of my mental health journey over the past couple of years. Healing, I’ve learned, isn’t about finding a grand direction all at once, but about taking small, purposeful steps toward clarity.

Over time, I’ve packed a travel bag of coping skills—tools gathered through resilience and reflection to help navigate life’s challenges. In this bag, I’ve tucked away the following:

• Gardening, which has taught me patience, connection, and hope for the future
• Camping and traveling, which provide grounding and moments of reflection and remove me from toxic environments
• The innovative therapy of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT)

Together, these practices equip me with tools to steady myself on life’s uneven terrain.

Toxic environments take many forms. For me, one haunting example is tied to my family history—an incident immortalized in The Burning Bed by Faith McNulty and its film adaptation starring Farrah Fawcett. This story of domestic violence catalyzed legal changes but also exposed trauma’s lasting effects for generations. In our small community, many recognize that it was my uncle’s wife who set him on fire, and that tragedy shaped not only my family but my understanding of how such circumstances mold mental health challenges like BPD.

These days, this trauma rarely triggers me. It’s other personal loss and grief, along with the environment surrounding me, that create the deepest triggers.

Self-medicating and addiction often emerge as responses to trauma, creating another layer of toxicity. While I haven’t personally fallen into addiction, I’ve been surrounded by it and lost many loved ones to its various forms. These experiences have shaped my understanding of how addiction can deepen the struggle for stability in the face of mental health challenges.

Statistics reflect the gravity of these struggles. Approximately 8 to 10% of individuals with BPD die by suicide and up to 70% attempt it. Impulsivity and emotional dysregulation (the inability to control emotional responses) fuel this risk. I am one of the survivors—continuing to seek growth and stability in my life.

In this journey, DBT has been transformative. It personalizes coping skills for unique lives, allowing for individualization in the treatment plan. It also helps balance the rational and emotional mind—a state called “wise mind.”

This is where I learned, “Wise mind is not always a happy place, but it is a healthy place.” That personal reflection came to me during a weekly DBT classwork assignment. These moments of clarity, born from the balance of guidance and self-discovery, continue to guide my healing journey.

DBT is offered in both individual therapy and class-style group settings. The structured, interactive nature of the classes fosters a collaborative learning environment that feels both practical and empowering. Plus, it’s accessible in a virtual setting, which is perfect for me, and covered by most insurance. This makes it not only effective but also sustainable for my ongoing growth.

Among the voices that inspire me is that of Melanie Hallenbeck, a colleague and author of “An Elephant Trainer’s Daughter.” She describes her trauma as a heavy suitcase packed by someone else.

“I have to carry it everywhere I go. I don’t get to leave it behind or drop it off somewhere and never see it again,” Hallenbeck shares. Yet with treatment, she’s lightened the load: “I’ve added wheels, a padded handle, and some stickers to make it mine. After miles on rough roads with your own suitcase, I hope you find that stretch of asphalt and enjoy it.”

Her metaphor resonates deeply with my own journey. While I cannot leave my past behind, I’ve personalized my own travel bag of skills. Gardening connects me to life’s quiet growth; camping and traveling provide moments of reflection; and my ongoing quest of chasing sunrises, following the moon, and collecting lighthouses reminds me of hope and direction. Each lighthouse I visit—steadfast beacons through storms—symbolizes resilience, light guiding me through darkness.

Healing is a journey of small, purposeful steps. Though the circumstances that shaped my struggles remain part of my story, my coping skills have helped me find moments of clarity and strength. Like a lighthouse beacon illuminating the way, mental health awareness and therapeutic tools have guided me toward hope, stability, and growth—even in the shadow of adversity.

Photos provided by Tina Cole-Mullins

Personal loss and grief, along with the environment surrounding her, create the deepest triggers for Cole-Mullins.

To Cole-Mullins, lighthouses symbolize resilience and a guide through darkness. Here she shares her photograph of the Grand Haven South Pierhead Inner Light and the Grand Haven South on Lake Michigan.

Cole Mullins’ ongoing quest of chasing sunrises, following the moon, and collecting lighthouses reminds her of hope and direction.

The Luna Pier Lighthouse on Lake Erie illuminated to guide through the darkness.

In her ongoing quest, Cole-Mullins captures this photo of the moon over a Lake Erie inlet.