My favorite time of day is morning.

The stillness and the quiet. The satisfaction in being awake before the rest of the world. Moments of true solitude in which to mentally prepare for the day. The aroma of fresh coffee spilling into my white ceramic mug, igniting me with fervor before I even take a sip.

But most of all, mornings provide the promise of starting over, a clean slate, a chance to (try to) forget whatever happened yesterday, most notably disordered behaviors and subsequent punitive self-talk while trying to fall asleep.

Then the next morning, although an iota of shame may still linger just beneath the surface, I let hope move in and gradually nudge the less-than-productive emotions out.

Today will be different, I tell myself.

Today is fresh and new, like food that has yet to be consumed.

And I am presented with new chances to use every strategy and tool I’ve learned in recovery to be as patient and kind with myself as possible…until the sun goes down.