The sky wasn’t falling; it had already fallen. All I was doing was acknowledging what everyone else refused to believe. It was over. There was no coming back. We made our beds and we were lying in them and there’s not enough blankets. Those who doubted were cast out of my little kingdom.

Text book elitist-defeatist attitude. New jobs came with failings. New acquisitions came with imperfections. New people came with flaws. I was running in a race that has already been one. And not just buy some Kenyan, but by every person I knew.

That’s because they were growing. Sure, much of that manifested itself in possessional form. But they were able to advance themselves without constantly giving themselves a thorough brain screw.

It’s hard to reconcile how those that are less talented than myself have so much more stuff. Thanks to the program I realize that, for this alcoholic, it never was about talent. It was about self-loathing. And isolation. And perverted self-worth. And my inability to interact with other humans in a way that wasn’t off-putting.

You don’t get very far in this life by screaming, “Love me love me love me – now get the hell away.” I’d fight everyone for my individuality until there’s no one left to fight.

For today: Back away. Slow or fast makes no difference. Get some perspective. An acorn does not equal the sky.

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