“Because sometimes healing looks less like progress — and more like surviving the day.
For anyone who knows me, I would never stare at flowers. Never. There’s always too much to do, too much moving, too much life happening. And yet, here I was this morning, stuck in bed, staring at two vases of flowers on my windowsill like some weird, reflective Instagram post come to life.
One vase was bright, fresh, standing tall like it had a purpose. The other? Tired, drooping, clinging on like me after a week of post-surgery pain, strict bedrest, and zero freedom. And suddenly it hit me — these flowers were basically me in human form.
The glass vase: sore, frustrated, overwhelmed by stillness, barely holding it together. The white jug: hopeful, fresh, full of possibility — exactly where I want my head and my heart to be, even if my foot hasn’t gotten the memo yet.
Sounds poetic, right? Except… then the day happened. And let’s just say it was an absolutely miserable day. No graceful pivots. No silver linings. Just pain, frustration, and the sheer boredom of lying in bed while life carried on without me.
“Sometimes it’s okay if the only thing you did today was survive.” – Anonymous
And survive I did. Barely. But that’s enough. Because recovery isn’t about looking perfect. It’s about showing up, even when your foot feels like it’s on fire, your independence is gone, and even the dog gives you the cold shoulder. Literally.
The girls came home from Dingle, and in my head, it was going to be hugs and warm reconnection. In reality? A tired, cranky “hi” and a quick dash to their own space. Even the dog walked past like I was a ghost. Invisible.
So yes, Day 7 had its metaphors — a few flowers still standing, a few laughs buried under pain — but mostly it was messy, frustrating, humbling, and 100% real.
And yet… here I am. Writing. Breathing. Hoping that tomorrow something soft, something warm, something slightly less painful will return. Because recovery is messy, painful, lonely — but also where resilience hides, right under the surface.
Takeaways You Can Actually Use
1. Surviving counts. Some days, just making it to the next moment is a win. Celebrate it.
2. Focus on what’s alive. Even tiny victories, like a flower that hasn’t wilted yet, matter.
3. Feel all the feelings. Pain, frustration, rage, boredom — they’re part of healing. Let them happen.
4. Pivot in baby steps. Recovery isn’t about leaping forward; it’s about turning gently toward hope, even if it’s just a little.
5. Grab connection where you can. A text, a hug, a chat with a friend — it counts more than you think.
6. Resilience lives in the messy moments. Pain and setbacks aren’t failures — they’re proof you’re still here, still fighting.
7. Laugh if you can. Even at yourself. Even if the dog ignores you. Humor is sneaky medicine.
