In the working model that I use for behavioral modification, a+b=c, where a = noun, b = thought, and c = reaction. A is unchangeable; move on. C seemed etched in stone for the longest time; a forgone and forlorn conclusion. That leaves B. It’s my brain, my thoughts and filters, that decide. And far too often I let my reaction be determined by King Baby. Turning everything miserable under the excuse of “don’t wanna”.

So now I know what doesn’t work anymore. I didn’t wanna because I needed to isolate, escape and drink. If truly working the steps means doing that which is uncomfortable, I need to understand the limitations of how much alone time is necessary in my sobriety. Craving isolation and escape to what end now?

Engaging in life is something I never wanted to do. Or claimed didn’t know how. It was really King Baby and the b’s, making totally sure I had ample time for my disease.

I must remember my mind’s a baby when it comes to this “living” thing.

Immediate and repeated action: Take the crown off of the kid’s head – its pointy and heavy, dumbass. No wonder he’s crying all the time. And before it renders a decision between a & c, tickle its feet.

 And finally: Change its diaper constantly. I know how much I love sitting in my own crap.

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