Is Recovery Truly An Option Or Is Coping The Best You Can Hope For?

My teeth grate stickily with last night’s vomit, again. I keep my eyes closed against the optical violence of London’s suburbs as they sprint past me outside the Tube window. No, wait. It’s not London, it’s Dublin. It’s Dubai.
It’s Hong Kong. It’s the MTR, and all I see in the window is a reflection of the same impenetrable face I’ve avoided in the…