My compulsions were an unhealthy relationship creating imbalance in my universe. This perceived coping skill was really a self-destructive behavior.
Is it wrong if an ill individual can manage to muster up the ability to do something that truly brings them joy?
It’s amazing, all the things I can do with my broken parts, and it’s okay if there are some things I can’t do.
Recovery isn’t linear. Recovery doesn’t have one magical formula that can apply to the multitude of unique circumstances each person may encounter. Recovery is about doing the best we can with what we have at the time.
There are times that what you want from me is beyond my capabilities. You may be empathetic, but you don’t have my disability. You just don’t know.
I too have been a wounded animal. I am here today at this point in my recovery because I did what I had to in order to heal. I stopped attacking those who reached out to me. I accepted responsibility for the role I played in getting wounded.
I know only a vague concept of the past hurts you have experienced and the wounds that never fully healed because of it, but I was not the one who actually hurt you.
The quiet moments expose all the bloody, broken parts of me that have yet to heal.
I love order, I need order, I crave order, yet I cannot always have order in my life. Grief reminds me of that.
I dress up my self-destructive behaviors all fancy in an effort to masquerade them around as an attempt to cope with my challenges, the justification being simply that a negative coping skill is still a coping skill, so what’s the real harm in the end?