Thanks for sharing

I’ve spent a lot of time in twelve step meetings the past thirty years and some of what I was “taught” has stuck. One of the things was, that, as long as you are drinking, drugging or acting out consistently and compulsively, you fail to grow emotionally. So in theory, if I began my journey to self destruction at age 15, and continued until I was 28, then I had the emotional development of a 15 yo at age 28. Ridiculous isn’t it? I always thought so until I encountered someone close to me with an insatiable thirst for the “poor me’s” Hey, I’d like to feel sorry for you if I could but maybe it’s time to move along. I’ve also learned my tolerance level in dealing with adult’s that have a child’s emotional growth level. ZERO.
So this is my bad. I pray for patience and enlightenment to help get along with every human being that crosses my path. Even my social media circle of robot friends and family.

I’ve also been learning about passive-aggressive behavior. This targets me generally. Why is it that the darkest side of human nature includes wanting bad things to happen to other people? Whether they deserve it or not, who am I to judge? Who am I to hate? This whole monster of human nature in trying to “out-do” our friends and family brings NOTHING but disgrace. No, it’s not easy for me to say. In everyone’s life tears were shed, harsh words were spoken, fear, dread, resentment, jealousy, frustration and rage comes and goes like clouds in the sky.

To be quite honest I stopped going to meetings. It was easy when you had no solid foot on the ground. When there was no real place to hang your hat. Or, that that place kept changing. It is only through the blessings of a good God that I found some real peace in my life. It is only through the generosity, love and kindness of Krysia that I can bury myself in blankets on a cold north east night and dream. It is through these warm

I am zeroing in on capturing John Karst.

I am zeroing in on capturing John Karst.

hazy dreams that I can wake up in a home. In a home you can begin to take care of yourself. Go to a doctor (even if an overnight visit to the emergency room initiated it.) I can rejoin the ymca. I can begin learning and doing transcendental meditation. Joining the quite bizarre (but Catholic church related) Knights of Columbus. I can actually do things for myself that are healthy. Through it all, whenever I encounter a tough situation or a man-child, I find that I always bounce back on the life lessons I have learned in AA. As repetitious as those meetings can be, maybe it’s time to go back. I have absolutely no desire to go back to drinking and drugging yet something pulls me there. The friendship? The horrible coffee? The human tragedy? The repetitious steps and slogans? The service? Helping others? Maybe all of the above or can I even slide it into my scheduling, I don’t know.
Today I will dress in dark cloths and attend the viewing of a 16 year old girl that lost a gallant fight against some rare-crazy-aggressive cancer. I hardly knew this wonderful girl but it was so easy to join in with the entire community and help her. Something I witnessed which I shall never forget as long as I live (and live on in the afterlife) is hearing a young smart girl announce “We should start a fundraiser” and then see it develop, grow and snowball down the side of a mountain like a runaway train. Because of this selfless act I saw that people will bond together for another human. People are not greedy. People sincerely care. If you fall down there is a hand, EVEN many willing hands to help you get back up. My faith tells me the afterlife is real and that it’s not just some dark, void waiting room in the mountains of the universe. I have an advanced case of poets brain. I struggle with heaven and hell but I am overwhelmed with compassion for humanity. I’m redesigning myself at all times. I’m trying to think of others, even that fool that hung up on me. “Poor me. Poor me. Pour me another drink.”

The reason why they repeat so much in AA is because most alcoholics are so DAMN thick-headed, (and this IS and WAS me!) that it is only after something is heard several million times that it begins to sink into a train wreck of a chaotic alcoholic brain. Next step in the city of steps? Tearing off the leaches. Stay tuned!!

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