This is a metaphor that I use for Recovery.
I dreamed of a beautiful house.
A cottage, or a castle, or an Inn.
They all had warm fires, black nights, beautiful views.
I dreamed, and dreamed, and dreamed.
Then one day, I am told that I will be given such a house.
So I get all excited.
I pack and get ready.
But the house is dilapidated, in a lonely place.
Of course, I refuse.
It is explained to me, this is the only choice.
If I do not take it, then I will not receive a home of my own.
So I take it.
I decide to paint the house, rebuild parts, put on a new roof.
Some people might help me.
I will try to make it habitable, warm, cosy.
This is how I feel about Recovery.
Recovery is hard work, and not what I expected.