The journey forward lays riddled with potholes, pratfalls, boogeymen/women. and the persistent call to retreat to the comfort zone, for at least the pain is known. There is no set of rules-fit-all, there is no number of therapy sessions, no magic number of tumbles you must overcome. I have one rule which cannot be broken: I must get up one more time than the number of times I fall.

If I were to chart my progress it would resemble the drawings of a 3 year old and present no clear picture even to my own eyes. Recovery is one step forward then three steps back or two, or one step back and just when you thought you had it you find yourself somehow back to the beginning.

You are not weak or ignorant, you have not failed. Leave off judgements of your progress and celebrate how far you have come. I try to be better than the day before. I am my sole competition. And sometimes there is no notable progress, sometimes I fall into old thinking, old tapes that refuse purging. And some days I immerse my mind in Mahjong or comedy reruns to escape me. It is a distraction only, and solutions will present once I am able to open my mind again.

The one rule is to never quit. Never give up on you.

I have been my own worst enemy for most of my life. It did not begin that way. Somewhere beyond the trauma of sexual, verbal, and physical abuse I was this other person. I barely remember her but I dare to think I am more like her now than any time since the blue skies fell down upon me. I suspect I am not alone in this discovery at the nearing end to the treacherous struggle that is recovery.

There have been many times I have thought “Why bother” or “What use is recovery now that I am old?” I think it is called coming full circle. I am finding the me that was rent in two by sexual use at 3 1/2 years old. Buried for so many decades under the guise of someone created by others, I very nearly didn’t recognize her.

No matter how hard the struggle, recovery is worth every moment. Just to feel the sun warm my heart, real spontaneous laughter part my lips, and a comfort with who I am that never for a moment I thought I could achieve, I stand in awe of the process.

No, I am not finished. There is more to do. Thankfully I rise to meet the challenge, often reluctantly, but nonetheless I rise.