Two steps forward...

So, recovery isn't linear. Recovery is never a direct line forward. I saw this image once, it was two side by side collections of photos depicting the process of making a cup of tea. In the first photo, you followed the linear progression of empty cup, then tea bag, then hot water, then the milk etc... In the second photo it was more like empty cup, tea bag, back to empty cup, then hot water and tea bag stage, then empty cup, then tea bag, milk, hot water, tea bag, you get the idea...
And thats exactly how it is with "recovery". It feels like one day you are making a step in the right direction, then the very next moment you've practically reverse sprinted in the direction of your starting point. Somedays it will feel like things are falling into place, all of the things I have begun to work on in therapy are actually making sense and are proving valuable. But then on other days its the easiest thing to return back to the ways of destruction you've found yourself so comfortable to dwell in. And when you feel yourself spiraling back, its failure. It feels like failure because we expect ourselves to constantly make progress when we commit to recovery. It becomes a disappointment that you've 'failed', and that helps only to further peddle your way backwards.

But what I'm learning is that I have to take the good with the bad. At the moment the bad outweighs the good. However with therapy, with treatment, with anti-depressants, maybe that balance will start to shift. Maybe someday it'll tip in favor of the good. I say maybe, but really I'm the one in control now. Granted I can't stop the chemical imbalances in my brain but I can at least make some attempts to put the strategies I'm learning from therapy into practice.

Its exhausting waking up and never being quite sure of how the day will turn out. Never quite sure if I'll manage to be strong enough to make it through the day positively. Never quite sure of myself. Never sure of my capability to experience happiness.
Soon perhaps things will feel more secure, I can start to trust myself and my mind. Trust that I have the capacity to feel okay. That, even though I don't believe it, I'm allowed to feel happiness and contentment.

Things are changing, things are different, yet some things are still the same. I have only just started on this chapter of my journey, it will take many more pages before I reach a checkpoint let alone a conclusion. Maybe I could set myself some goals on route to mark different stages in my recovery? Maybe that would only serve to frustrate me if I slip up or if I never managed to reach them. Who knows. I only know that right this second, I've gotten what I wanted to say out of my brain and I need to go to bed and reset my brain for another try at 'being okay' tomorrow.

With love and light,
Lily