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.



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