I never grew up thinking that I’d spend my life recovering. As a young carefree little girl, I never imagined that one day, I’d be in a fight for my life that took everything I had, everyday. Back then, I only pictured fairytale dreams of white picket fences and happily ever after.
At around age nine, edges of darkness began to enter my mind. The battles began. Each one leaving it’s scar upon my soul. I won the battles, finding within myself a fierce determination and a will to survive that saw me through to the next one. Layers of pain thickened my skin.
34 years later the darkness still lurks within my mind, taunting me to fight. I’ve gained some strategies and skills over the years that have made me a successful warrior, yet the battles have taken their toll. I yearn for the day when I can say that I have won the war.
Recovery is about finding strength you didn’t know you had. It’s about triumphing over the darkness even when you want to succumb. For me, it’s about hope. For that little girl and her white picket fences and fairytale dreams.