In this bonus episode of Recovery Dialogues and Sober Stories, host Antonio Matta opens with a rhythmic chant affirming that “Recovery is possible.” He then introduces a personal offering: a reading of his poem “The Forgotten Embrace,” taken from his book Love Is in the Eye of the Beholder. The poem is framed as an invitation to excavate buried emotions, to remember what has been forgotten, and to reclaim voice, truth, and power. Matta weaves the poem into a broader commentary on recovery, drawing on trauma‑informed therapy, somatic psychology, and Bessel van der Kolk’s insight that “the body keeps the score.” He describes healing as cyclical and non‑linear, likening the process to a phoenix rising from memory and pain. The discussion highlights the tension between fleeing from and facing trauma, the alchemy of turning silence into speech, and the idea that vulnerability is wisdom, not weakness. Matta also references Hermetic teachings on polarity, positioning pain and healing as points on the same spectrum. Throughout, he urges listeners to engage in concrete acts of courage—journaling, speaking trauma aloud, embracing grief—as pathways to recovery. The episode concludes with a call to community: listeners are invited to share the poem, support the show via a GoFundMe link, and explore sponsorship opportunities, emphasizing that the dialogue itself is a lifeline for people in recovery and clinicians alike.
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Recovery is possible. Recovery is possible. Recovery is possible.
Recovery is possible.
Recovery is possible.
Recovery Dialogues and Sober Stories.
Hello friends. And welcome to this special bonus episode of Recovery Dialogues and Sober Stories. I'm your host, Antonio Mata. As Mental Health Month winds to a close, I wanted to share something personal, something that's both an offering and a reflection. What you're about to hear is the audio from a recent video published to my YouTube channel where I recite a piece from my book, Love is in the eye of the beholder. The poem is called The Forgotten Embrace. At its core, this poem isn't just an arrangement of words. It's an invitation, an emotional excavation, a return. You see, in the world of recovery and mental health, we often speak of healing as being nonlinear, backed by research in trauma-informed therapy and somatic psychology. Healing is cyclical. As Bessel van der Kolk writes, "The body keeps the score," and so too does the soul. What we don't process doesn't disappear. It waits. It manifests. It morphs. And sometimes, it finds its way into our relationships, our habits, our silence. "The Forgotten Embrace" explores that tension between who we were and who we're becoming. It speaks to the internal war many of us wage between fleeing from pain and facing it. Between bearing memory and letting it rise like a phoenix. This is the push and pull of recovery, remembering what we tried to forget, and in doing so, reclaiming what we thought we lost, our voice, our truth, our power. And after the poem, I share some afterthoughts, commentary really, about what inspired it and what it stirred in me. In that reflection, you'll hear echoes of lived experience and clinical insight. You'll hear about the grief that fingers, and the courage it takes to sit with it. About the alchemy of turning silence into speech. As we honor the last days of Mental Health Month, may this piece serve as a reminder: vulnerability is not weakness, it's wisdom. Recovery is not about erasing the past, it's about facing it with grace and emotional honesty. That's not just therapeutic, it's revolutionary. Let's listen together. Ever feel you didn't belong? Ever feel out of place and unnecessary? Life is full of so many surprises and gives way to so many discoveries. The most shocking finds are the ones under the veil that has kept hidden What's inside you? The lies we tell ourselves in order to live with ourselves are many. The life we build on these lies can become blinding with all the glittering gold. A life so corrupt if the truth isn't told. So we forget the truth. Why not forget the sorrowfulness? Forget the fear? Forget the pain? Yet rarely does one forget that it all remains. Every bit of it is collected and it all comes together. No matter how obscure, there it remains. The years compile as our body gets old and the things about ourselves that we have chosen to run from cling to our soul. We cannot let go when it still clutches hold tight. It forces us to flee or take flight. War is waged between who we are and who we want to be. Running away does not help. The path tread is 360 degrees, and in 365 days, you realize that you've run nowhere far because the circle leaves you where you began. As the seasons change and the world turns, you must not forget to embrace the truth, yet we never forget to embrace the sorrowfulness, embrace the fear, embrace the pain. After hearing "The Forgotten Embrace," you may feel a quiet echo within you, the kind that lingers long after the last word is spoken. That's because this piece is more than poetry; it's a mirror. It reflects not just my inner world but the worlds we often tuck away—the ache of estrangement, the rhythm of internal conflict, and the fragile but persistent pull toward healing. Written as part of in my novel, "Love Is in the Eye of the Beholder," "The Forgotten Embrace" taps into that space where memory, pain, and longing intersect. As we honor Mental Health Month, this poem becomes a timely invitation to lean into emotional honesty, to sit with our scars, and to stop running from the truths that have been chasing us. Whether it's cracking open a journal for the first time in years whispering a trauma aloud to a trusted ear, or simply allowing the floodgates of grief to open, these acts are more than catharsis. They are acts of courage. They are recovery. And yes, the journey is messy. The heart, like in the poem, doesn't always know where to land. It flees. It hides. It forgets its own longing, But in that forgetting, something else begins to stir, a remembering, a return. As Hermetic teachings remind us, polarity is a natural law. Pain and healing are not opposites but points on the same spectrum. We transmute by facing, we evolve by accepting. The forgotten embrace carries this message, quietly but insistently. What we fear may break us is often the key to our liberation. And what we assume has been lost—our strength, our voice, our sense of self—can be rediscovered right there in the silence we've avoided. Mental Health Month calls us to community, to connection, to saying out loud, "I see you, and I'm walking this with you." If this poem spoke to you, let it be a bridge. Share it. Talk about it. Let it open a door to dialogue about trauma, about resilience, about the nonlinear path of becoming whole. You can find The Forgotten Embrace and other writings of mine in Love Is in the Eye of the Beholder, available now. My body of work blends realism with abstraction and touches of the avant-garde. Stories, and verses shaped by the raw terrain of mental health, trauma, and recovery. If you're drawn to art that both wounds and mends, I invite you to explore it, support the work, share the vision, and above all, stay in the dialogue. Because in remembering the forgotten, we reclaim ourselves. Thank you for listening. As Mental Health Month comes to a close, there's more content on the way. If this work speaks to you, even a $1 donation to our GoFundMe at gofundme.com/recoverydialogs helps us continue into Season 3. Your support fuels the dialogue. And if you're with an organization that believes in the power of storytelling to shift minds and support recovery, let's talk about sponsorship opportunities. This show is a lifeline for those in recovery, for clinicians, and for the communities we all call home. Until next time, remember, what we forget doesn't disappear. It waits to be embraced. Keep going, keep growing, and above all, stay in the dialogue.
Recovery is possible. Recovery is possible. Recovery is possible.
Recovery is possible.
Recovery is possible.
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