Upon mentioning to my lil’ ole blogspot here to some folks, I’m always asked “Do you really loooooove recovery?”  *snicker*  Of course this gives folks a reason to tease me; always epic fun. However it brings up a good point. Do I really love recovery and what the hell does that mean anyhow?

Look at the idea of  love relationships for a moment.  Is it really all sunshine and roses, candy coated goodnight kisses, lollipops and rainbows? Umm. No. Anyone who has survived a broken heart can spew for weeks on this topic. Love can be painful and bittersweet, succulent and obsessive, miserable and joyous; all sorts of mixed up -  mashed -  fly by night – kick ass emotions wrapped with heartstrings and leather studded blindfolds.

The opposite of love isn’t hate you know … it’s apathy, aka: not giving a hoot or holler.  Love and hate are the flip of the same coin called emotion.  So possibly it would be safe to call this website … I Emote Recovery. (Not to be confused with I Emo Recovery where they all wear black eyeliner and write tragic love sonnets to the sobriety gods).

Twisting and turning, ever entwining intricacies of recovery life … hell let’s just call it life cause that’s what it really is anyhow right? We’re just labeling it recovery because we forgot or didn’t learn all the life skills that normal children have gained by age 12.  Using became the only way to stop the life circus and get rid of the scary clowns.  Problem is, the clowns were hiding under the damn bed the whole time. Now that we put down the bottle/pipe/needle/prostitute/poker chip/razor blade, we’re newborn babes mewling helplessly cause we can’t change our own diaper.

The notion that love sometimes hurts – and hurt can bring growth – and growth can sow love, is one idea that I can live with today.  Circular thinking or interconnectedness or hell I don’t know – just feeling alive is love to me these days. I could quote a Nazareth song right now … but I won’t. Let’s just suffice to say that I do indeed love recovery; in an emo inspired, tragic comedy, black eyeliner kinda way.

Now about that sobriety god poem idea …