Day 43 #MyRecoveryLetter

To my former self:

I am sorry.

I’m sorry you didn’t know you were enough. I’m sorry no one ever told you. I’m sorry your mother taught you to be small. I’m sorry she didn’t know how to love herself. I’m sorry she was consumed, and that it consumed you too. I’m sorry you were her collateral damage.
I am sorry treatment hurt you. I’m sorry you weren’t ready.
I am sorry you taught yourself to manage, and to drink, more collateral damage.

I forgive you.

I forgive you for losing your son, for giving him up. I forgive you for using your eating disorder long after we got sober. I forgive you for the times when you could finally see him, and you still weren’t present. I forgive you for lying to your husband.

To my current self:

I am sorry.

I’m sorry it took this long. I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’m sorry this is so hard and you are mourning. I’m sorry you have to do this work now, with two toddlers demanding constant attention, that we didn’t do it before. I’m sorry you are tender-hearted, quick to tears, and quick to anger. I’m sorry you had to ask for help. I’m sorry you have to cook all the meals. I’m sorry you can never take a break.

I forgive you.

I forgive you for being irritable and snapping at your babies. I forgive you for being cold to your husband. I forgive you for not loving your body yet, for scoffing at the mirror, and for keeping that bag of old clothes. I forgive you for being hungry. I forgive you for eating.

To my future self:

I believe in you.

I believe in full recovery. I believe you will know a new freedom.

I am grateful.

I am grateful that I know that recovery is not an end point, but rather, a tapestry woven from time. Each thread a moment, some joyful, painful, significant, or poignant, some ordinary, mundane, tedious, some effortless, and many arduous. And it’s woven alongside its counterpoint, the tapestry of our old life, made from millions of stolen moments. If we are lucky, the former grows forever longer, stronger, more vibrant and more varied while the latter remains unfinished, discarded, tattered, and covered in dust.

Callie

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