I'll Be Okay: Depression, Self Harm etc. Recovery Book

What they don't tell you about recovery

I've been meaning to write this book for about a year now. And I keep putting it off, month after month, because I haven't recovered - not really. My days are still gloomy and darkened.
But it's this moment right now, while I'm sitting at the edge of a swimming pool, fully clothed, watching my friends tackle some ridiculous inflatable obstacle course, refusing to join in because I'm not feeling it, that I realised something.

Recovery is not about the darkness being gone. It's about there being an increasing amount of light. Even if the sun only comes out for a few minutes before ducking behind a cloud for the rest of the day - it's still better than last week when the sun didn't even bother coming out to play.
The fact that I can sit here and, even though it's still too dark for me to enjoy myself, I can laugh at my goofy friends because I can see that they're enjoying themselves - it gives me hope.

I don't know what the point of this chapter is. Maybe I just want to open your eyes to something. Recovery isn't waking up with a smile on your face ready to attack the day with every optimistic thought you have. Recovery is starting to sing along to a Disney song again. Recovery is giggling at a shit joke your friend told because it's just so nice to be with them. Recovery is jiggling along to an old favourite when it comes on the radio in the car.

Recovery isn't the disappearance of darkness, but instead the reappearance of light.