I finally figured out what’s going on when I’m not practicing humility. I’m scared to death of being perceived as gullible. This plays directly into my greatest fears: being laughed, pointed at, ostracized. That’s where I get my isolation: I’ll go away before you tell me to. But then my ability to tell the difference between self-isolation and ostracization went away with the booze, and no amount of reassurances would get me to join the fun, and especially not in a responsible manner.
I want to be easy-going and excepting. I’m just afraid that people might read that I’m an easy mark; someone to exploit or pick on. I walk through convenience stores with a “you’re messing with the wrong guy thing.” I’m not saying anything, or eye-rolling, deep exhales; none of that. I’ll just pump out major wattage of concrete nothing. Detached from the moving things around me. They are thankful that I’m being peaceful. Because, of course, everyone knows my story and what a bad ass I am.
With my program, I can’t walk around like a spring-loaded trap. I don’t have the luxury of seeking out things to explode on. Because one rush of anger begets another, and before I know it everyone’s upset, angry and confused and we’re not even at lunch yet. Who wants pizza and ice cream?
So, what is my trigger for switching between humility and gullibility? What’s the difference and how come I can’t tell? Well, I’m going to guess it’s my paranoia and my alcoholism. Together, they’re pretty effective at knocking me off the beam of reality. It’s what my sick mind wants. And when I choose not to be respectful of myself or the people around me, and be okay with that, then I truly am out of my mind.
There is a difference between quiet meditation and my head up my own ass isolation. I know what the difference is: I can feel it. Then comes my choice between the two, and how to act going forward.
For today, may I make a smart decision. Or at least the one others would make.