Whenever I feel I have fallen into the rut of everyday life, I go back and read my story. It always brings me back to reality when I remember how hard things were for me, and how far I've come and how hard I've worked. Sometimes it feels like things drag on so long that there is no end in sight, and then I remind myself of the time when I couldn't sit up on my own and it's like a slap in the face that says "hey! you're doing great!"
If my own struggle isn't enough to bring me back to reality, I think about those so much less fortunate than myself, and then I want to really slap myself in the face and call myself an idiot. For example, my dear friend Richard. He would give anything just to be able to take care of himself one-fourth as good as I can. Getting out of bed, rolling over, transferring out of his wheelchair; these are all things he can't do on his own, and all things that would make his life completely different.
"It's never so bad it can't be worse." Words to live by.