This is not the first step, nor is it the first stage, nor is the first new step. It is a continuation, a continued set of steps in the right direction, in the direction of recovery and of reclaiming healthy.
For example, being overjoyed by my wife coming through, even with as much as she had on her plate yesterday, and bringing me home some love – that is a step in her recovery, in our recovery.
[AN ASIDE, OR NOT SO MUCH OF ONE, I GUESS: I truly believe that we can see the us version of us ahead – the her version of her and the me version of me, holding hands and smiling as always (maybe crying too, but tears exist in the bubble as well; it’s just that they are safe and protected and cared for/about. And yes, I truly believe in unicorns and flying penguins and ninja pandas and the power of love (and bears) to conquer all the darkness in the world (HALLELUJAH!!! AMEN!!! – I also believe and have faith in my religion of love, and it is Sunday after all!)].
On a practical side, recovery is tasting the carrot-apple-ginger grand elixir juice that we’d planned on starting the day with and realizing I really don’t fucking like juice. Recovery is changing that plan and recovery is not having to finish it, chugging down this healthy tonic (or poisonous partner of the blackness, as it would be in this case). Recovery is also re-purposing the juice as soup, adding olive oil and onions and apples and almond milk – or peanut butter… hmmm… – because those things would make it taste good, because certain proportions of it would make it taste good, not because these healthy ingredients are within the portions or boxes or countable (again, becoming poisonous partners of the blackness in this case). Recovery is also tasting the soup along the way – outside of meal times – and adjusting the seasoning along the way and not worrying about getting extra calories from it along the way. Recovery is spilling a bit of the soup while stirring and saying “fuck,” but not because of the lost calories, the pre-counted allotment. Recovery is saying “fuck” because I now have to clean the stovetop again! Recovery is saying “fuck” because the cats whining wakes you up in the morning (well, at least it’s not visions of calories and food portions dancing in my head!). Recovery is not about perfect; recovery is about real. Recovery is about finding the balance that life can provide, the beautiful vividness of the world and of me in it (ok, not so practical with that one, but fuck off, it’s my blog!).
Now that we’re into the metaphors, it’s time for some motivational quotes: