I’ve always had a ton of regret for what I failed to do because of alcoholism. I stare at the giant pile of wreckage on fire in my backyard and wonder: if I wasn’t addicted to alcohol, would all of my dreams have come true?
Well, who says? And, did I become an alcoholic because I was afraid of failing, and this disease made for a great excuse? Imagining the could’ve beens or should’ve beens or might’ve beens only leads to self-hatred and depression. But it also makes me think: is this what happens when someone believes they aren’t good enough for this life and these people and their surroundings? I just stopped, called time-out and walked away.
Then my life changed. And the people around me changed as well. Same with my surroundings. And my alcoholism, that stop-gap measure I had intended to use until all of the above occurred, had moved into my psyche lock, stock, and barrel. And it treated my new surroundings like my old surroundings. Now I was isolating out of habit; it’s just what I did.
I have not frittered away greatness in favor of comfortable addictions. That’s a whole lot of assuming on my part – the depressive part that likes to kick me when I’m down. Nor will greatness return with the application of this program.
It’s delusional on both sides. Remember: Some times, old bones in a box are just old bones in a box.