There have been countless moments in my recovery when I’ve felt stuck, as though I were trapped in an endless loop, going around in circles. I’d catch myself slipping into the same familiar patterns, repeating old habits, and reacting to the same triggers that once held me captive. It was frustrating, even disheartening at times, to see myself standing on the brink of these cycles yet again.

But something shifted when I realized the significance of what was happening. I could see those patterns. I could recognize the old habits and triggers. With that awareness, I discovered something even more powerful: I had the tools and the ability to break free from them.

Each time I revisited my struggles, I brought with me something I didn’t have before, a fresh perspective, new insights, and a deeper sense of self-awareness.

Much like the process of recovery: when I’m in the valley, my view is narrow. But as I climb the mountain, my perspective expands, revealing a far more expansive vista.

Yes, I still stumbled into familiar traps, but the difference was that I didn’t stay there as long. I found myself reaching for lifelines; I’d make a call to a trusted friend and / or go to a support group. Each of those actions became a lifeboat, pulling me closer to the shore of progress.

That realization that I could see the cycle and interrupting it gave me confidence. It reminded me that healing rarely follows a straight path; and progress doesn’t always look like giant leaps forward. Sometimes, it’s as simple as taking one small step at a time. Slowing down often becomes the quickest path forward. Those steps have carried me, even in moments when I doubted my own strength.

Not long after summiting Mount Kilimanjaro in 2010, my troublesome left knee went from bad to worse. The tipping point came when I found myself wrestling with a stubborn wheel on my daughter’s car, twisting my knee into awkward positions. Soon after, my ex-wife noticed how much I was struggling to climb the stairs at home; proof that something had to give.

A couple of weeks later, I was admitted to St. Anthony’s Hospital in Cheam, Surrey, where top orthopaedic surgeon Mr. Gerry Kavanagh replaced my original knee with a metal Stryker Triathlon. It’s a real showstopper at airport security; let’s just say I’m a nightmare in those queues!

Eager to get back into the swing of things, I abandoned my crutches too soon and hobbled around in pain for a week, expecting my new knee to cooperate on command. Instead, it swelled up, forcing me into an extended convalescence. My impatience ended up costing me extra weeks of recovery.

My journey in Life and Recovery has been anything but easy, and I know there’s still more ground to cover. Yet every burst of self-awareness, every choice to reach out for help and support instead of retreat, teaches me that true recovery is about rising again stronger and wiser each time. With every step forward, I’m reminded that my past doesn’t define me; my determination to keep moving does.