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When nothing makes sense anymore: that’s some dangerous head space. What’s real, what’s not, what’s a lie and whose lie is it, what’s implied and what’s inferred? Am I living in the lie now? Does everyone else know? And is there anything to know in the first place?

Step 3: made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood Him.

Because, believe me, I’ve learned not to trust my thoughts anymore. They generally are built on some pretty shaky ground. That being said and acknowledged, my next worry becomes: what if others are aware of my hesitation to believe my own thoughts and conclusions, and are actively taking advantage? If my life was on-screen, would people in the audience be yelling warnings at me?

I know where the origins of these ideas came from, and it was long before drinking. It was a separate insanity, one of non-acceptance, that dovetailed nicely into my future alcoholism. It’s all those familiar feelings of not belonging, not fitting in, being purposefully excluded, laughed at, ridiculed, emasculated.

Add booze to that framework and the insecurity grew exponentially. I froze out everyone before there was a chance at friendship, because I knew how that whole concept ended. Another problem? I viewed friendship as a concept.

I know, I know, I’ve been a little repetitive lately with my concerns and my need to let go and let God, but that’s what my alcoholism does: culls the weak, infirm thoughts from the herd and feast on them ad infinitum. Or as long as I allow it.

Today: Let it go. Even if I immediately pick it up again, let it go. Trying to rethink a sick thought only adds to the twisted sickness. When has obsessing ever been the answer? Quit trying to get to the bottom of things that have no bottom. Because if I’ve let go correctly, right or wrong, truth or lie, it’ll all come out in the wash, and I won’t have to blame myself for not knowing.

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