Return on investment is cold math. Time, money, energy — you put something in, you expect something back. If the numbers don’t add up, you cut your losses and walk away.
Recovery on investment doesn’t work like that. There’s no clean equation, no spreadsheet to track the payoff. I don’t get to know when surrender will “start working” or how many meetings equal serenity.
What recovery demands is investment without guarantee. It asks me to weigh and measure when it feels pointless. To pick up the phone when I’d rather isolate. To sit in prayer when my head tells me I don’t have time.
On paper, the ROI looks lousy in the moment. It feels like pennies in a jar — too small to matter, too slow to count.
But that’s how muscles are built — rep by rep, set by set. Every weighed meal is a rep. Every call is a curl. Every prayer is a plank hold against the weight of self-will. The training hurts sometimes. It feels slow. But it strengthens the investment muscle.
Then the storm hits. The craving comes. Life throws a gut punch. Al,nd suddenly those small deposits, those countless reps? They’re the difference between relapse and abstinence. Between despair and endurance.
Recovery is built penny by penny, rep by rep, call by call, prayer by prayer. Each act of grit is a deposit into an account I can’t live without. And every deposit is a workout for the muscle that will save me tomorrow.
So the question isn’t, “How do I fix everything right now?” The question is:
What one deposit, what one rep, can I make today that will pay me back when I need it most?
Don’t wait for the math to make sense. Don’t wait for the guarantee. Make the investment anyway.
Because tomorrow’s ROI starts with today’s grit.
DeeBo