Quotes About Recovery

I wrote in my journal about how good I felt when I was not living under Ed's control. Then, when I really felt like giving up, I read these pages and realized that I was striving for in recovery was a real possibility. I thought about these experiences and used them as encouragement to keep moving forward. Even one minute of freedom was proof that I was getting better. At first, these times were few and far between. Now, these moments are connected; they are my life

Intense pain often pushed me to make changes. The pain of the eating disorder pushed me into recovering from eating-disordered behaviors, and then the emotional turmoil I experienced without those behaviors (not knowing how to cope with perfectionism, feelings, and life in general) took me even further, so that I ultimately found serenity.

With Ed, I always pushed away the good and only heard the bad. Today, I let in the good.

Almost imperceptibly, the rawness of her grief dulled, but sometimes she would find herself swept up in a wave of sorrow so sudden and powerful that it took her breath away.

Always remember. You will live. You will love. You will dance again.

Admitting you had a problem was the first step - everyone knew that - but admitting you had a problem also left you open to the possibility that maybe you couldn't fix it

Something that's bigger than you, and something that's kind and forgiving, I'd heard one of the meeting leaders say. That's all your Higher Power has to be.

We lose ourselves," she repeated, forming each word with care, "but we find our way back." Wasn't that the story of her life?

F.E.A.R. Stood for face everything and recover

Ruby stared down at the Doc Martens she'd started wearing after someone had dropped a prop marble bust on her left foot during a junior-year production of The Play That Goes Wrong and broken two of her toes.

Probably she's dead already. But you couldn't run forever. They had told her that in rehab, too. Eventually you had to stop running, and even the worst failures, the true fuckups and wastes of space, had to try to fix what they had broken. You had to turn and see what you had done.

Carrie, at forty-six, has had to learn that an entire set of previous behaviors are no longer acceptable. "I don't have the option of cutting myself, or overdosing, or being hospitalized anymore. I vowed I would live in and deal with the real world, but I'll tell you, it's a frightening place. I'm not sure yet whether I can do it or whether I want to do it.

she didn't have to take more than the doctor

The hospital is: Rest. Cleanliness. And if it doesn't work out, they help you get to the next place. When you walk in the sign says "Hospital," but it could also be: Bed, Bath and Beyond.

The point is, everything, bad or good, boils back to the decade on the needle, and the years before that imbibing everything from cocaine to Romilar, pot to percs, LSD to liquid meth and a pharmacy in between: a lifetime spent altering the single niggling fact that to be alive means being conscious. More or less.

Here and there nurses directed emaciated people in striped clothes; the soldiers looked at them in sudden silence—those were the people saved from the furnaces who were returning to life from the concentration camps.

Years passed and I found myself still a husk, still in that moment, still in the day my war ended, the day I realized, as all survivors must, that being alive isn't the same thing as living.

Guterak looked over. "Hey, you got your hair cut." "Yeah." Remy put the cap back on. "What made you do that?" "I shot myself in the head last night." "Well." Paul drove quietly for a moment, staring straight ahead. "It looks good.

It's going to hurt until it doesn't anymore.

It's going to hurt until it doesn't anymore.

You scream it in everything you do. You're holding on to what happened because you think that's all you have." "It is all I have." "Find more

There is life after hell. There is breathing and life and profound love after hell.

I am still trying to glue together the broken pieces of this person I love. He manages his tortured side with remarkable skill, but even Chris, with his endless supply of strength and clarity, could not survive all that he did without scars.

Hurt people can become hurtful