These past few months have felt a lot like a New York City spring. As I’ve traveled through death and rebirth, defeat and victory, my life has been reminiscent of the unexpected frosts, brief snow flurries, sixty degree days that warrant celebration, and the heads of baby crocuses emerging from the cold soil. The April showers are giving way to beautiful May flowers. For the first time in my short life, I feel steady.
My current daily routine begins with waking up anxious, my chest pinched tight as I try to shake the sleep off of my heavy eyelids. The first moments of my day remind me where I came from, as every twenty four hours, I am brought back to the eighteen years that preceded this one. It is remarkable how I’ve learned to change my natural state, as every morning I awaken a nervous and depressed wreck, before slowly putting myself back together again. Someone once described this phenomenon perfectly: “Every morning, I wake up a dry drunk, and I have to become a sober person.”
http://www.xojane.com/issues/im-chiara-de-blasio-and-im-a-young-woman-in-recovery
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