This week has been spent hunting for a new job, in a new city. Taking my own advice, I made a decision that to really overcome this I need a fresh start. The thing about recovery for me right now is that I keep being reminded about past decisions, choices and mistakes. There are only so many times you can talk to an ex, see how well he is doing and not think about what could have been (note, yes I am still friends with my ex however self-destructive that may be). Don’t get me wrong, in no world am I saying that I wish him, or anyone else, anything but happiness, it just raises those questions about the enviable path that life has taken.

I am honestly in the best place I’ve ever been in my life right now, and that is an amazing thing considering the person I was a few years back. But, regardless of how good things are there is always reminded of what could have been. I’m ashamed to say sometimes I wonder if the words I want to use there are should have been. Let me explain that better… Should it have been me that was getting married yesterday to the guy they feel for at university. Should it have been me who announced they were having a baby on Facebook last week? Should it have been me who had memories of all those happy nights they spent with their friends over the last ten years? The missing pieces of the puzzle?

But it’s okay. I’m not posting this as a bitter I wish that was me, because however horrible those years of struggle were it is part of me and my story and that makes me a pretty amazing person today (whoa, that might be the first time I’ve referred to myself as amazing!). If you offered me that chance to change my past I don’t know if I would change a thing because I actually like the person I’ve become.

I realise the paradox I’m presenting here; I am happy where I am in my recovery and in myself but I still want to escape the what if’s… Any maybe escape is the right word, maybe it isn’t. All I know is that begin reminded of the past and the person I was, and evidently the person I hated for so long, can get too much. Recovery isn’t about being perfect and better all the time, to me it has to be about learning to live in the real world. If that world is constantly reminding you of who you were, or could have been then is that helping me recover? I only care about who I am today. Being surrounded by reminders of my history keep me tied to that identity that was never really me…

“We can spend our lives letting the world tell us who we are. Sane or insane. Saints or sex addicts. Heros or victims. Letting history tell us how good or bad we are. Letting our past decide our future. Or maybe we can decide for ourselves. And maybe it’s our job to invent something better.”

Maybe this is an escape, but then again maybe it is inventing something better where the past can’t dictate who I can be. I want to be free to be me and release the shackles of this damned illness. I’m not running away as much as I’m giving myself the freedom to be me without being caught in my pasta is takes and should have beens…

Does that make me a coward?