It’s very common during the recovery journey, that there will be moments where things seem to go well. Maybe it’s a good conversation, physical intimacy, a good few days, or just better perspective as a whole. You’re grateful for any semblance of momentum.

Then, before you know it, another bad day. Whether it is a reminder, a trigger, new information, someone sees the affair partner, or what seems like a series of a thousand triggers, things go to crap in a heartbeat and we can be feel a set back again. It can seem as though we take two steps forward and thirty seven steps backward and all in the same week or 48 hour period.

It’s short lived momentum, and to this day I’m grateful for it.  Early on Samantha and I had more ups and downs than a rollercoaster. We lost weight, fluctuated between misery and existence more days than we could remember. We wondered where God was, where help was, and where was any hope this would all be worth it someday.

One afternoon in our driveway, our 4 and 5 year olds were playing volleyball with a lightweight bouncy ball. The ball made its way to Samantha and with freakish strength, she pummeled the ball right at me and it nailed me right in the face. Though it didn’t really hurt too bad…..I stood there stunned she did that. She laughed while the kids were arrested by the amazement of it all. They eventually began to laugh so hard they were falling on the ground. Samantha laughed, then walked up to me and held me and laughed, which quickly turned into tears. We both cried and watched our kids now throw the ball at each other back and forth.

Throughout this journey, there will be short lived moments of momentum and hope, followed by moments of exhaustion, hopelessness, and maybe some moments of “I think this may work out.”

It will be hellish at times and it may be Disney-like as well.

I used to hate the fact that momentum was in such small spurts. Looking back, I wish I had relished the small times of hope and peace more. I wish I had enjoyed them far more, and realized during the dark moments, that this too shall pass and more momentum is around the corner.

Don’t let the small moments of hell seduce you into thinking it’s all going to be hell. Equally important are what I call the “glimmer of hope” moments. Don’t let them seduce you into thinking there isn’t work to do and there aren’t some more difficult moments ahead, and that you both are done with recovery work.

Eventually, the darker moments will subside and the hopeful moments will become longer and longer.

Recovery is a process and in that process there will be ups, downs, and I don’t knows…….it’s the journey that defines you, not the end result. You’re a survivor if you refuse to quit, regardless of the outcome.