The narrative of the broken person starts to be replaced, one word at a time. Your pain isn’t the first thing you share. Your tragedy is not the most exceptional thing about you anymore. Shared misery is not the means over which you bond.
The thing about loving an addict is that you think your love should be able to fix it and find yourself in disbelief when it can’t.
Doing something you “love” doesn’t mean you’ll love it all the time.
If you could go back in time, what would be the one piece of advice you’d give yourself?
They maintain their individuality.
Getting your shit together is living in your life rather than in other people’s heads.
Allowing you to get close – but never opening up completely.
The opinions of people you wouldn’t want to switch places with.
We aren’t meant to live in the past, but sometimes, remembering how far we’ve come is the only way to motivate us to keep going.
Doing things slowly, but well.