Thankful Anyway: A Recovery Reflection for Thanksgiving
Posted: 11/27/2025 (Thanksgiving Day)
Written by: Alexander Walker
Thanksgiving isn't always easy.
For a lot of people in recovery, it’s not a warm table and full hearts—it’s a reminder of who’s missing, what was lost, or what still feels like it’s barely holding together.
And if that’s you this year? You're not alone.
The holidays have a way of putting pressure on the cracks. Family expectations. Old habits. The weight of pretending everything's okay.
But here’s the truth: just being here—just choosing recovery in a world that makes it so easy to give up—is something to be grateful for.
Even if it’s messy. Even if it hurts.
Finding Gratitude in the Hard Stuff
You don’t have to be thankful for the pain to be thankful in it.
You can be thankful for:
The fact that you woke up and still chose recovery today.
The courage it takes to ask for help, even when it’s humbling.
The people—whether it’s a doctor, a counselor, a group, or just one friend—who haven’t let go of you.
The strength it takes to say no, to set boundaries, to keep going even when it’s slow.
That’s not weakness. That’s resilience in motion.
And yeah, sometimes gratitude looks weird. It looks like being grateful for a Tuesday that didn’t end in relapse. For a conversation that made you cry, but also made you feel seen. For a quiet meal alone, because it meant peace instead of chaos.
Being Thankful for the Journey Itself
Nobody signs up for addiction. But you did sign up for recovery.
That’s brave.
The fact that you're even reading this means something. It means you’re showing up. You're doing the work. You’re not running from the hard stuff—you’re learning how to face it with open eyes and a clearer heart.
That’s not nothing.
It’s the kind of strength most people never have to find in themselves.
So yeah, maybe this Thanksgiving isn’t traditional. Maybe it doesn’t come with mashed potatoes and laughter around a table.
But maybe—just maybe—it comes with something deeper.
A flicker of peace. A small moment of pride. A whisper inside that says,
“I’m still here. I’m still trying. I’m thankful for that.”
Keep Going
If this holiday is hard, give yourself some room to feel that.
And then take a breath. Drink some water. Call someone who gets it.
Write a list—not of what you’ve lost, but what you’ve survived.
Look at how far you’ve come.
Then look at how far you’re willing to go.
That’s what recovery is.
Not perfect. Just possible.
And that’s something to be grateful for—not just on Thanksgiving, but every single day you don’t give up.