A Rocky Start, a Peaceful End: Recovery in Full Color
Yesterday started off with a sting. A breakup. Not a long, dramatic one, just the kind that still finds a way to gut-punch your mood before breakfast. We already wrote about that, so I won’t relive it here—just setting the scene. It was early, and I was already insulted and sore before the day even had a chance to get its shoes on.
And of course, let’s not forget the background track of my life lately: trigeminal neuralgia. She’s been extra loud in the mornings—showing up uninvited, before I’ve even had a chance to decide what kind of day I’m going to have. But I’ve started a new regimen: Celebrex for inflammation, Claritin (not the D!) for allergies, and a little extra grit in my coffee. Nothing magical yet, but I’m hoping it helps lower the baseline roar. Even when I’m doing something simple, like brushing my teeth or walking outside, there’s this hum of electricity under my skin. Anyone with TN knows—it’s like trying to live your life while wearing a live wire in your face.
But even so, I went to a meeting. AA, my grounding space. I sat with my people, spoke some truth, listened to others speak theirs, and I remembered: I know who I am. I can still claim joy, even in pain. Especially in pain.
After that, I poured myself into a little project for the Facial Pain Foundation. Because when I hurt, helping someone else is still the only thing that truly shifts the energy. I sat in my apartment with the sunshine finally peeking through after days of rain, and I thought: Nicky needs a walk. So off we went.
And here’s where the day turned.
Just as we were getting back, my very dear and oldest friend had just parked down the street. The Italian Festival was in full swing. So I grabbed Nic’s vest, told her we were going on another adventure, and off we went again.
Downtown was bustling. Trombones, police lights, fried dough in the air. Nicky was thrilled. Old ladies stopped to pet her. Veterans came up, smiling gently, asking if she was a service dog. (She is. And a queen. Obviously.) She immediately RAN to her Uncle Billy & Auntie Kate. I swear they are her absolute most favorite people in the entire world, I don’t even get the type of greeting that literally knocks me over. I watched people drinking from massive plastic cups, clinking glasses of wine. There’s literally a drinking trolley you can ride around town. Beer tents, cocktail stands, wine everywhere. It was like a parade of temptation. And yet…
I didn’t want any of it.
Not because I’m better than anyone. Not because I don’t still sometimes think, “Ugh, wine would make this feel softer.” But because yesterday, I already had what I needed. I had Nicky by my side, the warm air on my skin, laughter with people who love me. I felt it all—and I remembered it all. That’s what sobriety gives me: my memory, my connection, my actual life.
We headed back, and the second half of the day was just as sweet. We played Rummikub, our favorite game. Uncle Billy is ridiculously good at it—he introduces it to everyone like he invented it. I taught him the game. Now he crushes me at it. Rude.
Later, as my friends were leaving… we took Nicky out for one last walk before bed. I fed her, curled up with her, and instead of watching TV, I just meditated… somehow it just came to me so naturally last night. Called a couple alcoholics just to check in. And then I fell asleep peacefully—not because the pain was gone, but because I wasn’t.
Pain is still here. Trigeminal Neuralgia doesn’t take festival days off. But I lived my day anyway. I walked through the pain, the noise, the craving, and I chose love, laughter, and presence instead. It’s not always pretty. But it is mine.
And today, I get to wake up and try again.
With Love,
Dana & Nicky.
