It may be two weeks late, but I finally made Mom a homemade peanut butter cake for her birthday. I have come a long way from the mental breakdown I was having in November. Recovery is not black and white, set in stone, or able to be calculated by time. Rather, it is a ladder that I climb each day. Some days I may be on a low bar, and others I may be way up high in the clouds, but I will always be somewhere under, on, or above that same ladder. I have felt pretty good today, on a medium bar you could say, so I made a cake. I hope it tastes as good as it smells. I don't know where I'll be on the ladder tomorrow, or even later today, but I aim to be climbing up.
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