Advice is easier said than done. Things like “listen to your body,” “be patient with yourself,” and “accept where you are” are simple, but living them is something else entirely. In recovery, I navigate chronic pain, fatigue, and the constant negotiation between what I want to do and what my body will allow. And it’s all day long every day that the battle occurs.

I’m writing a book—I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that. Well, it has proved to push me over my pain threshold, and now I have to pull back from devices entirely other than my podcast. My loving husband and I are working on a solution that will allow me to dictate the book, so I can still work on it every day but not have to sleep for hours every afternoon to recover.

So, I do listen to my body, but only when it’s screaming so loud at me that I can’t ignore it anymore. I’ll keep practicing. 😉

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I remember walking past some bushes in detox on the way to the cafeteria, scared a bottle of wine could be hiding there, waiting for me. What scared me was me. I didn’t trust that I could stop myself. I thought my recovery was just physical, and I just needed to control my hand from picking up a drink. But in that short walk, I saw that the problem was more about my mind reaching for the drink instead of my hand. My thoughts were just as out of control as my drinking. I looped through fears, obsession, and imagined scenarios that hadn’t even happened. I spent so much energy trying to control the world outside of me, but the work was learning how to live with a reality that I didn’t choose.

That realization followed me into stroke recovery. I can’t control that my brain broke, as much as I can’t control where alcohol shows up in the world. I can, however control my response: how I show up, speak to myself, and pause vs react. Recovery starts with surrendering the control that I never actually had in the first place, and accepting who I am in this moment. Somewhere between surrender and acceptance, I begin to find peace, by focusing only on what’s within the limit of my fingertips and not beyond.

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Living life on life’s terms in stroke recovery means learning how to live peacefully in a reality I didn’t choose. I still get angry, scared, frustrated, and sad, but I allow those feelings to run their course without dictating my behavior. Since my stroke I abandoned the illusion that I can control my life by just working harder, planning better, and pushing my body further. Neither life nor my body cooperate with that personal expectation.

I can’t control when I hurt, feel dizzy, or struggle to talk. But I can control is how I respond and whether my peace grows or diminishes. Emotional recovery from stroke requires me to pause in my discomfort, acknowledge I don’t feel good, accept instead of resist, and to practice gratitude even when life feels unfair. Pain is not optional for me, but misery is.

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If I could talk to my past self, I would tell her she’s doing the best she can with the tools she has, and she’s not weak, broken, or uniquely over emotional. I would tell her that the anxiety and depression are real, not imagined, and that she doesn’t have to act like she’s ok and as if nothing is wrong. I would tell her that she simply has a human condition. She’s not the only one who feels dark, scared, overwhelmed, or different, and she doesn’t have to hide those feelings or punish herself for having them.

I would tell her that happiness doesn’t just happen to lucky people. We have to participate in it, practice it, and move toward it through small daily choices. I would tell her that trying to control that which is outside of her fingertips will not save her, but acceptance, rest, and connection with others will. And even though life will not unfold the way she expects due to alcoholism, stroke, and unimaginable loss, she will be okay. I will tell her that she will grow into someone braver that she ever imagined being, wiser because of the hard stuff, and strong enough to help other people who feel the same way she does.

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I didn’t understand, or even want to consider the possibility that my stroke permanently changed my life in an instant. How do you wrap your head around that. I did everything right. I was sober for five years. I did yoga every day at 4 PM. And I even became a runner, albeit short distance and not fast. Maybe I should say casual jogger 😂. Anyway, I thought if I followed the rules, went to the doctors, did the therapy, and pushed hard through recovery, I would get to the end of it and back to normal. Instead, I spent two years trying to force myself into a life my brain could no longer sustain. I slowly increased my work load, ignoring my pain and measuring myself against the person I was before my stroke.

I was in denial and terrified to admit that I could no longer do my job the way I used to. My career was slipping away from me. I reached the point of unmanageability. I shut my computer, sat on my porch, and sobbed. Leaving my job was devastating, but it was also the beginning of accepting who I am now instead of chasing who I used to be. My stroke took away a great deal, but it did not take away my ability to create meaning, connect with others, write, speak, and help people. Looking back, the real struggle was trusting that a different life could still be beautiful and falling back in to the arms of the unknown.

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I work hard to be happy. It takes intentional daily choices for me. Living with invisible illness, whether it was alcoholism, anxiety, depression, or now my vestibular disability after stroke, means there is so much going on inside of me that no one else can see. There’s a mental, emotional, and physical load behind even simple things I do. So I must participate in happiness and not wait for it to happen to me. I make conscious choices to do the things that bring me joy, comfort, meaning, and connection, even when I don’t feel like it.

Happiness is getting dressed because I know I feel better when I get dooded up for the day. It is writing my book, recording my podcast, going to support groups, picking up the phone, making art, and practicing gratitude. It’s also knowing when to rest, when to say “not today,” and when to protect my energy. I can still feel grief, frustration, exhaustion, and fear, and choose to move in the direction of happiness anyway. That is the work.

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Step One in my vestibular recovery means accepting that I can’t force my brain and body to behave the way they used to. If I try to push through symptoms or do more than I can handle, I just create more pain, frustration, and unmanageability for myself. No one can see my dizziness, brain fog, daily head pain, and fatigue, but recovery gets even harder when I pretend they aren’t there and try to “act normal.” Acceptance is honesty, and enables self-care and self-compassion.

What helps me now is remembering that, although I can’t control my symptoms, I can control my pace, choices, boundaries, and how I respond to my body. I no longer have the luxury of not taking care of myself just because I don’t feel like it. I must or I will spiral down. I must pause before I push too far, focus on what I can do instead of obsessing over what I cannot, and choose self-care without shame or guilt. That’s how I’m supporting my vestibular system. I am learning to live differently, and even when that feels slow or invisible, it’s still forward movement. And, I’m proud of me today.

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My faith journey began with desperation and willingness. Sobriety first introduced me to the idea of depending on a power greater than myself, even when I felt awkward and unsure about it. It felt more like discipline than conviction. I practiced gratitude, prayer, and “acting as if” I believed, long before I felt connected to anything. That willingness squeaked opened the door. I began to see that faith is continuing to reach for something beyond myself.

After my stroke, faith became survival. My disability left me terrified, uncertain, and stripped of the things I used to depend on, and that is when I felt a thirst for faith. Sobriety taught me how to pray, and stroke recovery taught me how badly I needed prayer. It turned faith into oxygen for me. I am still growing into it, practicing, and am majorly uncomfortable most of the time, but I know that prayer, dependence, and trust are keeping me emotionally well. I’m sharing this because it has carried me when I could not carry myself, and hope that anyone else who’s suffering might need to hear it.

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