The Four Paradoxes of Recovery

At today’s meeting, we talked about the Four Paradoxes of recovery: surrender to win, give away to keep, suffer to get well, and die to live. They sound upside down at first, but when I put my own life next to them, I see the truth in every one.

Surrender to Win

For me, surrender has been about my facial pain, my sobriety, and my relationships.

With pain, I fought for years — trying to outrun it, numb it, deny it. But when I surrendered to the truth that I couldn’t fix it alone, I began to win. That surrender is what brought me to Arizona for treatment, and it’s what keeps me sober today.

In relationships, surrender showed up differently. I spent years fighting for respect in one particular relationship. I kept saying, Hey, I’m sober now. Hey, stop treating me like I’m drinking. Hey, I can’t live up to those expectations anymore. But it didn’t matter, because it wasn’t about me — it was about them.

Sobriety can upset dynamics. When you stop playing scapegoat, people sometimes get annoyed that they have to face themselves. My surrender was realizing I couldn’t fight to be seen differently anymore. I gave them the space to have their moods, and I surrendered to the truth that those moods don’t belong to me. That’s how I win.

Give Away to Keep

Service in AA is one of the clearest ways I live this paradox. Sponsorship, sharing, keeping meetings open until the very last minute — all of that keeps me sober. I take calls during the day, I mentor with the Facial Pain Association, and I can connect with others navigating the same pain I live with.

But it goes deeper. Even with Dove Recovery Art, I practice this paradox. I’m on disability, I’m out of money, and yes — I really need the income. But I don’t keep it all. I take what I need, and I give the rest away — whether that’s supporting the FPA, contributing to AA dues, or helping fundraisers. It turns my art into service. It keeps my passion about recovery and connection, not money. And paradoxically, the more I give it away, the more grounded I feel in my purpose.

Suffer to Get Well

This is the paradox I’m living right now. Leaving Bob’s chaos behind wasn’t easy. I hid in a commercial basement office under my own company just to feel safe. Later, my father gifted me a beautiful apartment to heal in, but Bob moved in right beneath me. I asked for help. The answer was no. I still don’t know why.

Staying would’ve been easier. It would’ve been cheaper. But it would have destroyed me. So I left with almost nothing. I spent every penny on this move to Arizona, and I’m suffering for it. I’m broke, my things are still missing, and my medical pain is intense. I’ve had nerve blocks every 11 days since 2021, and right now I desperately need one. But I believe the Mayo Clinic will help me more than Yale ever could. This suffering is part of the path. It’s what I had to do to get well.

Die to Live

The last paradox is the most personal. For me, “die to live” wasn’t just about habits — it was about identity. When I left Connecticut, I left Dana there. Dana endured the abuse, the abandonment, the trauma. Elfy is who I am now.

Changing my name wasn’t just a legal act. It was a psychological rebirth. It was letting the old life die so that I could live fully in the new one. Every time I write “Elfy,” I’m reminded that this isn’t just survival — this is transformation.

The paradoxes sound backwards until you live them. But my life is proof: surrender has given me freedom, giving has kept me strong, suffering is carrying me toward healing, and letting the old me die has allowed me to truly live.

Recovery isn’t a straight line. Sometimes we heal by hurting, win by surrendering, and discover ourselves only by letting go of who we were.

I don’t have all the answers. I’m still living these paradoxes every day. But I believe in them, because they’ve carried me farther than fighting ever did.

And maybe that’s the greatest paradox of all: that in the very mess, pain, and surrender we fear most, life becomes fuller, truer, and more beautiful than we ever imagined.

With Love,

Elfy & Nicky

Elfy Overland

Elfy Overland, Artist & Founder of Dove Recovery Art

I paint emotions. Not places, not things — but all the messy, beautiful, gut-wrenching, glittering feelings we carry. My art was born from survival: after years battling chronic pain, deep grief, and trauma, I found healing in watercolor and mixed media. Every piece I create is a surrender, a whispered prayer, and a story hidden in color and texture.

Through Dove Recovery Art, I turn pain into something soft and luminous — because even pain glitters when you hold it right. My work explores trauma, recovery, and the quiet power of starting over. Proceeds from my art help others on the same path: funding recovery efforts, community support, and creative healing spaces.

I believe art isn’t just something to look at; it’s something to feel, to carry, to heal with. Welcome to my world — where broken things become beautiful.

https://www.doverecoveryart.com
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