The First Few Days

To my reader—

I write to you because I know you have struggled. I know you may even be struggling now. I know you may be lost in a world so big that horizons are only a thing of your imagination. I know you feel small and insignificant. I have been there… and there are many days I find myself there still. Addiction, depression and fear have constantly made me feel belittled into a state of nonexistence.

I promise you that we can all break those addictions, rise from that depression and overcome those fears. I promise that Recovery is possible if you want it.

Recovery is slow and painful. The path is full of distractions and obstacles. But Recovery is also incredibly beautiful.

When our pain is at its worst and all we want is escape from the blinding darkness, we plead desperately and desire endlessly for someone, something to bring us light. We desire nothing more than to see a horizon in the distance.

That horizon exists, and we find it in our moments of absolute despair. When all seems lost, when we are unable to move out of absolute fear, it peaks for just an instant in the distance. We see it flash before our eyes. We know it exists.

But we must have the courage to blindly chase it.

The first few days of Recovery are a dark, stumbling and completely imperfect march towards what may be our last hope. But Recovery begins with hope.

And so we decide that it is okay to stumble and scrape our knees when we fall, as long as we rise each and every time. We decide to venture into the unknown and decide to walk on what we cannot see. We decide that we will move forward from that time when we were too scared to move.

The lives we know in addiction and depression and despair are but a memory of pain and loneliness. At the start of Recovery, we must hold onto that hope, that thinking, that wanting and working for more.

But you cannot do this alone. Heading towards the far off horizon, your eyes begin to see through the blinding darkness. You are not alone— when you stumble and fall, I will be there to pick you up and will be there for you to lean on, because I need to lean on you as well. I need you in this life.

And together, as we walk and stumble with simple hope, love begins to flow through and between us like a river. We will realize that Recovery is a journey, not just the horizon in the distance.

In hope and love, we discover faith. Hope and love are not things we know, rather, things we do with and for each other. Faith is grounded in this action. Recovery is working for these things— hope, love and faith— to have a constant presence in our lives, allowing faith to engrain itself into our being.

And we— once imperfect, lonely beings— begin to give ourselves permission to enjoy life each and every day.

I am hopeful for Recovery, and my heart is open.

Recovery is real, each and every day.

Today, I am in Recovery. Please come with me.

Conn

contact me at connbeaulieuwrites@gmail.com
connbeaulieuwrites.com

contact me at connbeaulieuwrites@gmail.com

connbeaulieuwrites.com

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