A Good Day
Recovery is full of ups and downs, and I’m starting to think part of that is because you spend so much time alone with your thoughts. When there’s routine and structure, you carve out specific time to live inside your head. When there isn’t? You’re free to live there all day long.
And when you’re like me, someone who overthinks everything, that doesn’t always lead somewhere healthy. But it does lead to clarity. It leads to self-knowledge. It leads to knowing exactly where you stand on damn near everything. And that kind of zoomed-out perspective can feel heavy. Sometimes almost sad. Because the further you zoom out, the smaller and more insignificant you feel, and that realization rarely ends in happy thoughts.
But then something pulls you back.
Yesterday was a good day. Yesterday made me smile.
The first smile came from writing. I didn’t pretend I was going to rewrite old short stories. I didn’t bother touching the Keeper universe. I woke up knowing exactly what I needed to work on: the recovery book, the survival guide, whatever the hell I’m calling it right now. It was burning in my chest, and by the end of the day, the draft was done.
It’s short. Less than ten thousand words. That’s intentional. This book is for people who are recovering, people who just woke up after trauma, whose eyes don’t work quite right yet, whose brains are foggy, who don’t have the energy for long explanations or pretty prose. It’s meant to be direct. Approachable. Honest. And powerful.
And it’s done.
If I do this right, I may have two books ready for publication around the same time: one about living with purpose, and one about surviving when life knocks you flat on your ass. That feels right. All of it does. And for the first time in a while, I’m genuinely excited.
The second smile came from a text.
Someone I hadn’t talked to in a long time reached out. A professional connection, technically. But one of those people who always felt like more than that, thoughtful, kind, the type of person who leaves you feeling better about the world just by showing up in it. She’d heard about my accident, said her heart sank when she found out, and wanted to check in.
It was simple. It was sincere. And it meant more than she probably realized.
And if I’m being honest, there was a third smile too.
Messages from someone I recently met. Someone thoughtful. Present. Kind. Someone who makes me smile in a way I’d almost forgotten was possible. After so many years alone, trusting the universe with matters of the heart doesn’t come easily. I had more or less accepted that my life might be lived solo.
That may still be true.
But right now? She makes me smile. She makes me wonder what if.
So yeah, it’s been a roller coaster. I’ve felt every rise and every drop. But yesterday was a good day, and that felt worth sharing.
That’s it.
