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The more open I can be, the less reactionary I become.  The less reactionary I become, the better chance I have at staying calm.  Staying calm slows the runaway train of dangerous thoughts.  Which is key, as I often tie my serenity to the tracks.

Once this, that and the other gets resolved, and to my satisfaction, then I’ll be able to concentrate on my program and sanity.  It’s this logic, this mental stalling tactic that keeps my alcoholism alive and well inside my exoskeleton.  Depending on which set of facts I choose to believe this morning and throughout the day is pretty much going to determine my level of happiness.

Step Six: were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

Expecting the worse gets me emotionally prepared for an attack that never comes. I’m guarded, wary, armored.  And once I’ve dressed myself with the chain-mail of resentments and anger, and I’m wearing it out and about, for example, to the office, I’d better be able to justify it. So, fed-up grunts and exaggerated exhales follow each email receipt. Fast walking, head down. Loud typing and phone slams. The Executive Tantrum.

Or perhaps I’ve decided to pull out another wrong-sized suit to wear around today? This time, I’m afraid of something, or paranoid that someone may recognize my fear and make it happen. Self-doubt and uselessness follows each email receipt. Slow walking, head down. Soft typing and phone set to voicemail. The Executive Sulk.

It’s not so much that conditions are out of my control and I’m having a hard time finding the courage to change or the wisdom to know the difference.  It’s that, many times, the conditions don’t exist.  I’ve made them up wholesale, or I’ve latched onto a very small nugget of misinformation and polished it into a giant chunk of golden truth shown only to me: the insanity-driven alcoholic.

Today: Leave all those coats of crazy in the closet.  Rain or shine, it’s as beautiful a day as I let it become.

One thought on “living with no conditions.

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