And why is it that following a successful day of recovery, I find myself feeling guilty that I had a successful day of recovery?
I'm tired. I'm sick of it. I. Despise. This. Wicked. Disorder. Satan. Gave. Me.
Know what I despise more? The vulnerable, insecure girl that accepted it with pleasure.
But here's the deal: If I'm going to recover, I've gotta stop hating. That vulnerable, insecure girl that accepted what the devil gave her... She's being transformed. When she had the angel and the devil sitting on either side of her shoulder... She chose the devil.
But here's something about the other side of the shoulder...
The side with the halo on it... That side still wanted her. Even when she chose the evil side. And though she didn't hear their pleas to join them as she spent years delving into actions that would do nothing but harm for her... They kept calling her. They kept loving her. And they were determined to bring her to safety.
And one night as she reflected upon her actions and finally began to see a light, they got her.
Here's another thing about that side: They never didn't have her.