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Eight pages of people’s names, my resentments towards them, how those resentments affected my psyche, and my role in bringing them about. Why would I want to write that all down?

Because I became willing.

Step Four:
Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

I did it because these steps were what it was going to take if I had any hope of rejoining the world. I did it because my life had become something I was trying to get over with. I did it because there was no way in my mind I saw myself making it another ten years; not just physically or mentally, but spiritually: I had checked out.

So I wrote down my searching and fearless moral inventory, and read it over. And over. And over. And guess what? Everything, every resentment, every reaction, every thought that I had bounce around my brain, was fear-based.

What was behind my anger, my self-pity, my envy, my laziness? Fear, one hundred percent of the time. Good to know. But that wasn’t enough. I needed the why part of the equation. Which, when it came to me, was painfully obvious: it was something that I feared since the beginning of me.

I was afraid of being laughed at. Sometimes it was the straight-up dread of the group of people pointing and guffawing. Other times it was the paranoia that people were snickering behind my back. The fear of failure. The fear of loss. The fear of not fitting in. The fear of not living up to my and everyone else’s expectations.

Those fears were ground zero, upon which I’d built my wall of resentments. And for mortar I used a mixture of shoulds and spite.

And now, with list in hand, I walked around to the other side of the wall, stood back and looked at what I had built. It was a fine wall; sturdy, tall and wide. What I wished I had built was what most normal people build: a house.

I had become willing to look at this thing I’d constructed. I now had to find the willingness to start taking it down. And I can’t do it with a crane; it’s gotta be dismantled the same way it was built: brick by brick.

2 thoughts on “sock it to me.

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