Values: The Ring of Hope

The topic of last Saturday’s Recovery class was ‘Values and Recovery’. After our class I was thinking a lots about my values and the way how they changed and as well how some of them are still there. Then I looked at my ring and started remembering:

When I was twenty-three years old, I worked as a chambermaid in the city hotel, lived in a small poky place above, where not another soul ever entered. It felt like a haunted castle. My wages could not even cover the basic necessities of life and I had a very expensive “past time’, an ED.
I could not go back to my parents; I could not go back to my country. I got ten years prison sentence for leaving illegally. Times were getting worse and worse. The only help was my grandmother’s gold, which I smuggled across the boarder when I was leaving. My ED behaviours have required me to sell piece by piece until I had hardly anything left. The self-harming monster in my head needed more and more.
The only thing I had left was a silver pocket watch. I was a present from my grandfather, who I loved very much. It was engraved watch from 19th century. He got it from his father. I always said to myself, that I will never sell this watch; it was a family treasure, which my granddad wanted me to have to remember him.
Times got hard, money was the biggest problem and hope was shrinking.
The watch was sold.
It was a dull rainy day. I was going back from the shop, where I left my last piece of my reminder of my childhood and people who loved me and care for me. I sold this precious thing for two notes, the shame hung over me. I sold memories, my values are gone and everything got flushed down the toilet. I did feel that I flushed my soul, my spirit, I could not believe it what I have done.
What I experienced that day is hard to describe in words, it was not depression, it was total life desperation. It seemed that the only thing I had to do is to figure out what way I will I will be leaving this place called Earth.
The weather was dreadful and the mood could not have been worse. I was walking, not knowing where, with my head down, not using even umbrella.
I was soaking. Just when I was going through all my options, I spotted some small shiny object. I looked closer and picked up a beautiful gold ring. I could not believe it. I looked around, if anybody could lose that, nobody anywhere, the town was deserted. I dried the ring, it started to shine and in about five minutes the rain stopped and the sun came out.

Life changed a lot from that day. I am not walking with my head down anymore, I am now facing the sun and the goodness of life and I am still wearing my ring as a sign of value of hope and reminder that there is always a light even in the darkest moment.
Things do get better….just have a hope…