My epiphany of sorts this week leapt out at me while I was reading about a journalist's progress against anorexia, an eating disorder that first appeared when she was 10. Kate Taylor of The New York Times wrote, "Now, at 33, I have been healthy for many years."

Her self-assessment of personal well-being hit me like a tasty pie in the face. Caught off guard by the holistic simplicity it conveyed, instantly I knew what she meant. Taylor is better now than she was once.

Why can't we all talk this way? Maybe then the rest of the world would know what it means to overcome food, alcohol, illegal substances or anything else that makes us sick nearly to death because we cannot stop. Until we get help and do. But in sharing our triumph, we use lingo nobody grasps, much less appreciates, because most people don't know what it means to have our problem.

For example, many alcoholics and addicts say they are "recovering" or "in recovery" or "recovered" or "clean" or "sober" or "clean and sober." All fine, if any of those terms stick to you or perhaps in a gathering of people who are in various stages of not using destructive substances any longer, be it 24 hours or decades.

Yet such language is for insiders. The public doesn't have the advantage of knowing exactly what this means. Numerous surveys of public opinion over the years tend to affirm that overcoming addiction is possible. But defining success in overcoming it — be it addiction, an eating disorder or a mental illness — is confusing; one survey found that the majority of Americans believe that somebody "in recovery" is still using substances while trying to stop.

Even among insiders like us, there is no universally embraced bottom line to realistically describe where we are in a complicated process with many roads and mileposts to progress. Twelve-step groups celebrate "recovery" as complete abstinence, even though those among them include heavy smokers, overeaters, irresponsible citizens and adulterers, who haven't changed a thing except their powerlessness over alcohol or other drugs. That's hardly the epitome of a life well-lived, even if they are no longer stoned or drunk all the time.

"The lack of an accepted definition of recovery contributes significantly to the variability of reported outcomes of addiction treatment," William L. White wrote in a groundbreaking article in the Journal of Substance Abuse Treatment in 2007. "The term's conceptual fuzziness has also produced contention within recovery mutual aid groups and recovery advocacy organizations over when the state of recovery is achieved, lost, and reacquired."

In other words, from the public arena to the anonymous circles of meeting rooms to the isolated shadows of personal shame, we are far from speaking with one voice about what it means to get well from the destructive use of substances — except, perhaps, as it relates to our own progress, because in the end, to "recover" is nothing if not an honest, intimate assessment of where each of us in our own way stands, sits or crawls right toward our goals.

Maybe the best way to tell ourselves, one another and the public about our journey is to say simply, "I have been healthy for..." You can fill in the blank with a specific number that counts for you or a general term that describes your state of mind or body. The operative word here is "healthy." Nobody quibbles with an adjective everyone understands.

William Moyers is the vice president of public affairs and community relations for the Hazelden Foundation and the author of "Broken," his best-selling memoirs. His new book, "Now What? An Insider's Guide to Addiction and Recovery," was published last October. Please send your questions to William Moyers at [email protected]. To find out more about William Moyers and read his past columns, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.