Being in recovery is, I feel certain, different for everyone.
For me, it has meant going home to my parents, in order to relax. But how can anyone relax when their lives are going on without them?
I feel agitated a lot, and as though I should be doing something more. Producing something. I feel aimless, and I think that feeds the depression. I can knit and do colouring all I like, but it isn’t going to make me feel like I am moving forwards with my life. It feels quite the opposite.
Here I am, in this lovely room, in this lovely house, with this lovely fireplace and these lovely people, and I want to scream, or else hide away, one or the other, because it is so frustrating. To have lost myself in this disease.
It is so frustrating.