Day 128 — The Same Story, Yet Brand New

To say this journey is simple would be a lie. It isn’t. This is so much more than a battle with addiction—it’s the story of a man doing everything he can to free himself from the prison of his own mind. Months spent tethered to a couch in an RV-turned-cell left me physically stuck, but the real walls were in my head. Day after day, my thoughts spun like a carousel, and I found myself clinging to one constant: “Hope.”

I wish I could say that each new day brings a grand revelation, but the truth is, recovery can feel like I’m writing the same story on repeat. Some mornings, I wake up and wonder if all of this is just a loop I’ll never break free from. But the deeper truth? Healing isn’t a straight line—it circles back on itself, revealing something new each time if I’m willing to look.

I can’t quite tell where “Hope” ends and I begin. She’s woven so tightly into the fabric of my memories that I sometimes wonder if my love is genuine or just a product of solitude, trauma, and longing. Even now, with the RV doors behind me, my heart still fights to keep believing—maybe that’s the hopeless romantic in me, refusing to let go of the idea that true, unconditional love can exist.

I’m learning, slowly, that fighting for myself doesn’t mean shutting the door on every possibility. It just means recognizing that I have to stand on my own two feet first. Each day, I choose to keep going—one word at a time, one step at a time—hoping that maybe, eventually, I’ll find the answers I’ve been missing. Until then, I’ll keep writing. For me. For growth. And, in its own way, still for “Hope.”

Day 128

One Step. One Punch. One Round. 🌹

—Your Fellow Traveler