This is recovery
Recovery is often a mysterious thing for those who need it. I hope this poem/story brings some understanding to the confusion...
Addiction and recovery
The darkness and the light
Giving away what was freely given
I lay here, trying to be patient with myself and my friend.
I realize that I am not alone anymore.
My prison is no longer locked, the door no longer shut.
Though I cannot leave the cell,
I am no longer alone.
I no longer feel that I am useless.
I no longer feel as if the world would be better without me.
Someone has taken the time,
Used their energy, to care for me.
I try not to ask too much, I try hard not to be picky
Only asking for things needed, Trying to put off the needed things
In the hope that my body will return
In the hope that my friend will not do much
In the hope that I can repay their kindness
I wait, I chat, I joke, I pretend
That my insides are not screaming, refusing to admit defeat
That I do not feel like a burden, that my pain is nearly drowning me
That the tears I cry on the outside, are the only ones there
On the inside, things are much the same as they have always been
As time continues, and others continue to care
Something shifts, something changes, Some of the darkness eases
Hope, once lost among the shattered pieces
Is remembered and sought, not one for words, I make no speeches
Simply respond to what is freely given
The days go by, no outward changes noticed
But inward, the light battles the dark
Slowly, carefully, the foundation is built once more
The light shines, though very dim, the darkness gives way to light
Outwardly, changes begin, others see hope within
Those with darkness of their own
Cautiously seek hope of their own, like timid dear on the first day of hunting season
They carefully pick their way through, their very own darkness hoping to find
A tiny little light to ward off the pain
To ease the discomfort, to bring a smile of their own
Once again, no outward changes show
But deep down inside, the tiny spark of hope grows.
THIS IS RECOVERY!
I started this poem out thinking of my condition, but as it progressed I began thinking of another condition of mine. I began thinking about my addiction and how far I have come since coming to treatment. I had not realized it, but this new condition is no different than my addiction.
I have no control over it. I have no control over when it hits me or how long it lasts. The only thing I have control over is how I react or respond to it. Today, I choose to respond to it as if it were the same as addiction.
There may be very little ever known about this condition, there may be no cure for this condition, but that will not stop me from doing what I can while, I can when I can. I just hope that one day I will be able to find someone who can accept all of me, handle all of me, and love all of me.