The day the mirror stopped looking back with shame

Dear Delyara, For years, my reflection was my greatest enemy—every morning I would look at the bloodshot eyes, the grey skin, and the raw, desperate shaking of my hands, and I would hate myself with a ferocity that was almost physical. Tonight, as I washed my face before bed, I actually stopped and looked myself in the eye. I didn't turn away. I saw clear, steady eyes, a healthy color in my cheeks, and a calm, deep peace in my expression. I have been clean for two full years today. I didn't just survive the addiction; I clawed my way out of the grave and rebuilt a human being from the dirt. I stood in front of that mirror for ten minutes, tears of pure, unfiltered gratitude running down my face, just whispering, We made it back. We actually made it back.