A well-known but rarely seen play from the last century deals with the martyrdom of an English archbishop. The play has a Greek structure with a chorus; and one of the themes of the chorus is the nature of the hard existences they lead -- "living and partly living" in the harsh weather and economic uncertainties of medieval England. Yes, they are alive; but the difficulties they encounter and their despair means that they are only partly living.

Recovery brings with it a new zest for life, particularly in the early years -- the restoration of so much that was lost, the realization of goals long ago abandoned, the feelings of optimism and self-respect. But after a while these can start to fade. We realize that there is still a groundswell of discontent beneath our new realities. There are little problems that won't go away, no matter what we do. To the world, particularly to people who knew us before our recovery, all seems well; and unfortunately it is very difficult for us to acknowledge otherwise. We're supposed to be doing well. To whom can we turn to admit that there is something still not right underneath all the trappings of success?

After a while, this matter can start to become serious. We are "living and partly living." For some of us, this underlying malaise will one day take us back out. For a fortunate few, the full restoration to life -- but on God's terms, not ours -- will come about through a sincere and ongoing commitment to the last three Steps.