Sitting in the airport on my way home after three months at The Ranch/Capri and being able to reach out because my gate was right across from the sports bar, and instead of getting drunk, I ate dinner (like I promised Capri Jen that I would)
It is eating a yogurt parfait from a coffee stand because you rocked the McDonald’s outing and ate a parfait there. And hey, if you can do it at McDonald’s, the Airport’s coffee shop is a walk in the park! (Christine RD all the thanks go to you on this one)
It’s landing at your destination, not trashed, but completely sober, and seeing the man that you’re in love with, with a rose he picked from his backyard, waiting for you at the gate.
It’s driving home to parents who love you, even though they “don’t want you living in their house”, welcome you with open arms (and open paws, and sloppy kisses, from all FIVE of the dogs)
Recovery is, walking through the door of your house, to your fur child (in my case, a rescued Taiwanese Street Dog, who actually came from the streets of Taiwan, who was fearful and skittish, that I nourished into an amazing, healthy, happy dog) greet you with such joy that you know, that you KNOW that even though those past three months were the most painful, difficult, and terrifying things you ever did, THAT YOU KNOW it was all worth it.
I may have been met with some difficulties at the end, I may have even gotten a few doctors or clinicians say “we understand if you need to come back” BUT hear me, THIS RIGHT HERE, IS RECOVERY.
Rosewood, you done well. Thanks to everyone who stepped in and stepped up to help save my life. Because this is one good life worth living.