Quotes About Recovery

This was one of the pleasures of recovery: you opened the door to the pain and gnawing tedium, but joy came in as well. All of it, all of it, brilliant and clean and true.

It's not your fault. But healing your own pain does belong to you now.

The grief loosens its jaw from my neck but doesn't let go.

I want to say to the new guys here, look, it's okay to process your shit however you want to. It's your shit. It's no one else's shit. As long as you're not hurting someone else. Your hell is yours and you get to decide, okay? You get to decide when you're ready. It's important that I say this, though: It's not your fault, whatever happened to you. It's not your fault. But healing your own pain does belong to you now.

I learned what it was like to lose yourself. To feel the fragments flying off you. As if your soul has unhitched itself from your body and is flying away on a piece of string like a balloon. Lost in the clouds. You think, I only have to catch the end of the string. But though it hovers within sight, you cannot grasp it. You try and try. And then there comes a time when you are too tired. You no longer care. So you say: Let it go. Let me just fall down here on the soft grass and go to sleep.

Calcutta has still not recovered from history: people mourn the past, and abhor it deeply.

Do I know that? How the hell can I possibly know that? Only a few hours earlier, Chris, my beloved husband of twenty years, jumped to his death off the roof of a parking garage a mile from our home. Cops came to the house in a pair to tell me, just like in the movies. Ding-dong, your husband's dead. Your life is over. Except it's not.

some people bounced back from a train wreck and some people couldn't get over a bee sting.

You know, the crisis passes, the crucible cools, and there we are, slightly improved, not much altered.

Devon? Are you okay?" For the first time, Dom's voice sounds unsure. Devon sats nothing, not one word. She pushes herself up. She slides the papers toward herself. She slowly folds them into quarters. She closes her hand around them. Devon lifts her face to Dom's. Is she "okay"? Will she ever, ever be okay?

Just because you have stopped sinking doesn't mean you're not still underwater.

The worst of it is over now, and I can't say that I am glad. Lose that sense of loss—you have gone and lost something else. But the body moves toward health. The mind, too, in steps. One step at a time. Ask a mother who has just lost a child, How many children do you have? "Four," she will say, "—three," and years later, "Three," she will say, "—four.

The worst of it is over now, and I can't say that I am glad. Lose that sense of loss--you have gone and lost something else.

Krissa, tough Lady Krissa, who had stood by impassively while Areau vomited out ten years of bitter addiction, wiped her eyes and offered Areau Mrs. Wrinkle's pie in comfort, and it suddenly occurred to Areau in the strangest, most dreamlike of ways, that his pain was not the only pain on the planet.

We're all broken inside a little. You step on us in the right places, we're gonna fucking shatter.

When he came to, groggy from the painkillers and still in pain (oh the fucking injustice!),

You're a hero for walking away," Jackson said soberly. "You're a hero for pressing charges. You're a hero for dealing with that for eleven years and still believing in the good in people. You'll never fool me again, asshole. I know who I'm dealing with now." Henry's eyes burned.

But whether you're fixed or broke I need you to come back Just promise me no matter what You'll still be coming back I'll put together all your pieces If only you come back.

Three trips to rehab," John said at last. "The third time…." He closed his eyes and blocked it out. He couldn't do this, not now. "It was bad. I thought maybe I was the problem, right? 'Cause… 'cause I'd do anything for him. Anything. I'da stayed for another trip to rehab—I'da stayed for all

the trips to rehab—but… but if I left, maybe he'd find a way without me. Because staying wasn't doing him any good.

The dogs used after the 9/11 disaster had needed people new to them to pretend to be lost so they could find someone and know that people could be okay.

Didn't happen. Won't want this again." He sighed and wrenched himself back. "Yeah, we will," Galen said soberly. John swallowed, legitimately afraid. "I'm a recovering addict—" "And I'm not recovering," Galen said. Those luminous green eyes narrowed and glittered. "Not yet. But I want you. And you need someone. So you need to decide how this is or is not going to happen, because it's an issue.

Crick once showed up at a crash site and said, "Holy God, no wonder the guy didn't make it!" right before the victim opened his eyes and said, "I'm still alive, jackass, now help get this fence post out of my chest!

And then crumpled on a muffled shriek, because he'd hit a stud in a load-bearing wall and broken three bones in his wrist and hand.