Sleepily walking into the small bathroom that she hates, she starts another morning. She misses her large bathroom at her old house. So many things about this place that she hates, but it’s the best she could do at the moment. Eyes half-closed and squinting, she wrestles a black hair band from her wrist to pull her hair up into a messy bun. Looking down, she sloppily grabs for her toothbrush and paste. She starts to brush and as her eyes lifted up to look into the mirror she sees a shot of light. First, she thinks one of the four bulbs above her is flickering and trying to burn out. But as she takes another look, she notices the stream of light coming from her own eyes. The normal dark, clouded look that greets her each day seems to have faded into a softer brown with flecks of clear light. She leans closer into the mirror. She wonders if the fact that she hasn’t had a drink of alcohol in 16 days is the cause. Then she wonders if it’s because she has a new love in her life and is just experiencing a false sense of beauty and clarity in her mind. Or last, it could be the voice of her therapist repeating the mantra every day in her mind that one day she will heal from panic and fear. Has the light always been there, she asked herself? She looks at herself one last time and wipes her chin. She looks around and says “I guess this bathroom is not that bad after all”.