I need a reason to recover.
That’s what’s missing. A big part of me wants to get better, clearly, otherwise I wouldn’t be spending hundreds of dollars on nutritional counseling. But it feels half-hearted. And I never like to put my name on anything half-hearted.
The reason why I chose recovery in the first place was because I wanted to move to Chicago and build a better relationship with my father. I ended up having to move back to Kentucky, but by that point I was already on the right track.
When I relapsed the first time, I chose recovery all over again after an abusive relationship ended. I wanted to heal myself and prove that I was stronger than him. That worked for a while too, but now I couldn’t care less about what he thinks of me.
What am I missing here? Have I chosen recovery for the wrong reasons before?
A radical thought came to me last night:
What if I just want recovery for the sake of recovery?
Could recovery be reason enough in and of itself? Could it be valid by default, without an outside reason to justify it?
Maybe. But it feels a little shaky. I need something to hold on to. An anchor. Something I can see and feel to be justified, in much the same way I needed to see my weight drop. Something I can measure.
I need a real reason. I need to know why.
…Or do I?
featured image by Myles Tan via Unsplash