I’m one of the lucky ones. I’ve been surrounded by love all my life. I’ve never had reason to doubt whether my immediate family loved me. Nor my extended families. Nor my friends. Nor my friends’ families.
The only one who’s ever not loved me is myself.
Today I still don’t necessarily love myself. However, I have at least gotten to a place where I’m starting to see value in myself. And not just for the things I do for other people.
I was talking about it with one of our old timers after a meeting today. The conversation between the two of us revolved around the expansion of services in our community since they first came in. It’s not become the norm for folks to come into the rooms, but it’s become less of a rarity. And, at least moderately, less of a stigma.
That’s something I’ve grown to love about the rooms of Recovery. I haven’t ever been turned away. And, more often than not, I’m warmly welcomed and thanked when I share my story or chair a meeting. I’ve done the same thing for others. Including today.
My world wouldn’t be the same without the Rooms. I know I spent a very large amount of time feeling all alone. Not unloved, but like I was the only person in the world.
I don’t any more. I know that all I need to do is call a friend, text a friend, call to my Step Two.
I don’t want to jinx it, but a miracle may be happening in my world.
mydarkestplaces 