Last week I was listening to Russell Brand talking to Fearne Cotton on her Happy Place podcast and something he said really struck me…

“[Recovery is to] recover the person you’re intended to be…

If you’d not got caught up in getting in bad relationships or believing that you could fulfil yourself through ambition or cake or coke or smack or whatever it is that you, the particular thing that you got snagged on, who would you become? What is it that is trying to realise itself in you?

And the process of recovery is learning to unpick yourself from the biological and biographical habits that you’ve fallen into and discovering some sense of essence.”

Russell was talking about recovery from addiction, and how you never stop being an addict – you never ‘recover’ in the traditional medical sense, so the term ‘recovery’ has to mean something else.

It struck me that the term ‘recovery’ is a tough one for those of us who have been diagnosed with incurable illness(es). What does recovery look like for us when there is no cure?

The question had never even occurred to me. But when Russell talked about unpicking yourself from what you’ve become snagged on in order to discover ‘some sense of essence’, I really felt like his words hit home.

For me, my illnesses have become a huge part of my identity. It features in my day-to-day life, in my friendships and relationships, in my short and long term planning, it’s always there. I’ve come to see myself (and be introduced) as “Ellie who is chronically ill” and not a huge amount more a lot of the time.

A therapist once said that I have a glowing core inside of me. It’s the essence of me, my driving force, what makes me different from everyone else. And when I tap into that core, I’d feel and be unstoppable.

I didn’t know it at the time but she was right. When I found campaigning while at university I suddenly felt like I’d found what I was here for. I found joy, fulfilment, energy and drive. I could feel I’d tapped into the core of myself. It was hard work but I loved it.

When I got ill all of that seemed to disappear and I mourned the loss of my identity. But actually if I put the illness part of me to one side, I’m still me. My essence is still there.

So while I will likely never be cured of my conditions, I can rediscover who I am. I can recover what makes me, me (aside from my illness), what feels right, what makes be feel whole. I can rekindle my fire to go beyond focusing on staying alive to rediscover being and feeling alive again.

I think the idea of a core in everyone is beautiful and powerful. What makes up those cores will be different, what we feel when we tap into them and allow ourselves to be driven by them will differ, but we all have one.

So maybe we all have a chance of recovery. I’ll never be the person I was, I’ve changed (for the worse and better), but those things that make up my essence have stayed constant. My journey of recovery will be to work out how to allow myself to be guided and powered by my core within the context and confines of my illness. Once I do that I’ll be able to once again find my passion, by drive, my essence.