Week of Bedrest

It’s been seven days now.

Seven days mostly in bed, counting pain pills, trying to find positions that hurt a little less, timing tiny victories like brushing my teeth or getting Nicky to cuddle next to me instead of bouncing on my ribs.

It’s strange how fast you can fall back into it — the bedrest life. It doesn’t ask for permission. It doesn’t knock first. It just sweeps you back under, like a tide.

Some part of me wants to rage against it.

Some part of me wants to cry, to scream, to say, “Not again.”

But another part — the part Dove Recovery Art was born from — knows:

This is where the real work happens.

Healing isn’t always forward. Sometimes healing is surviving the stillness.

I haven’t been able to work for the past week — the pain has been too much.

Even caring for Nicky has been more than I can manage.

I’m lucky (so, so lucky) to have David helping me right now — walking her, playing with her, giving her the attention and energy I wish I could.

Without him, this week would have felt impossible.

I used to think recovery meant “getting better.”

Now I know recovery means continuing to show up — even if all you can do today is lie here with a heating pad and a prayer.

From this bed, I’ve grieved.

From this bed, I’ve painted bleeding roses.

From this bed, I’ve built a dream that’s bigger than the pain.

Every piece of art you see at Dove Recovery was fought for — not in big, dramatic battles, but in the quiet ones no one else sees.

The mornings when lifting a paintbrush felt impossible.

The nights when grief and nerve pain braided together until it felt like I might drown.

And still, here I am.

Still making beauty out of the broken things.

If you’re in a bed today — if you’re surviving something no one can see — please know this:

You are doing sacred work too.

You are not behind. You are not broken.

You are living the kind of strength most people will never understand.

I see you.

And from my own battlefield bed,

I’m sending you love, hope, and a reminder:

Even here, you are creating something beautiful.

🕊️

With love,

Dana & Nicky

Dana Overland

Dana 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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Coming Down From Chaos