Recovery doesn’t just happen. It is not something given to you nor is it a given. It is something you have to choose and then fight for. You have to cling on to it even when the thought burns you from the inside out. You have to be persistent, be demanding, be willing to tell yourself that you have been wrong for too long and that you no longer want to live that way anymore. Recovery is not achieved overnight, it doesn’t slip into your life seamlessly and it doesn’t really give a damn about your idealised time plans. It is a battle, a full-blown apocalyptic war on something that ha claimed a piece of your heart and soul. It is letting go and holding on at the same time. It is waking up, it is breathing that breath you didn’t know you were holding, it is forgiving but not forgetting, and it is hurting for all the things you had never allowed yourself to feel. Recovery is saving yourself despite not knowing if what will be left is worth saving. Recovery is essential hope, hoping for laughter and love and a life you are proud of living. Recovery is not a peaceful process but neither is living and dying at the hands of your disorder. Recovery is worth it because you didn’t fight this hard for it not to be.