Recovery -- it isn't the smooth, clean ride that it's often portrayed as.

It's treacherous and bumpy with more potholes than you could imagine. It's turbulent; more turbulent than a plane ride in the middle of a storm. You'll spend the majority of the trip engulfed in almost complete darkness with just tiny glimpses of light from time to time. The trip will be so exhausting that you'll want nothing more than to just turn back and retreat back into that hell that you have become accustomed to that somehow became a home. It's become a comfort to you and somewhat of a security blanket; something to always fall back on much like your childhood teddy bear. It's familiar; recovery is not. That's why many choose to stay in the darkness known as relapse than to ventur off into some unknown territory. It's better to stay with the devil you know than the devil you don't.

You'll also encounter a seemingly endless tunnel that offers nothing but blinding darkness and sorrow, but you'll learn that it's not endless. Like all things, there's an end to that tunnel and you'll be greeted with a beaming light. Just when you're prepared to turn around and go home, that's when the miracle happens. You'll realize that somehow you've made it out of the darkness and into the light. You will be given a second chance. This miraculous beam of light isn't simply a mere coincidence either; it's a reward -- a moment of redemption. It will be the most beautiful light you have ever feasted your eyes upon and suddenly; everything will be worth it. You'll wipe a tear from your eye because in that very moment, you'll know that you've made it and that feeling will feel better than relapse ever could.