I choose to commit my entire life to my healing.

A commitment this total has an odd requirement folded inside it: some hours have to be about something else entirely. A life spent wholly on recovering becomes one more thing to be worn down by.

So the afternoon at the cinema counts. The two hours where nobody mentions it counts. So does the friend who talks about their own ridiculous problems for an hour without once checking how you are — that person is doing something for you the appointments cannot.