Often, I’ve planned my day without my knowledge. And if I know I’ve got a plan in my head, that’s normally where it stays, until something or someone disrupts my secret designs. Then it’s resentment dipped in frustration. What the hell? Can’t they see that I’m working on my serenity? I cannot be asked to deviate from my agenda if you want me to act like a regular person. There is a systematic order to my day, and as long as I get to do exactly what I want, everything should work out wonderfully, and my sobriety remain intact.
Step Three: made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood Him.
But the problem’s pretty obvious: I’m expecting others to keep me sober. Blaming extenuating circumstances rattles my serenity and keeps me on edge throughout the day. Instead of attempting to right-size my reactions, I’m spending all of my energy complaining that others’ won’t listen, won’t conform. I’d better run and isolate before I blow up the whole morning, afternoon, evening.
And my apologies are half-hearted. I, once again, need to say I’m sorry for my behavior; behavior that my alcoholism 100% justifies. Me, the martyr, the peacekeeper, once again needs to sacrifice for the good of the whole. Which I wish I could honestly do, but it doesn’t really count (or work) if I bitch through the whole thing, making it miserable for everyone. I want you to know that I hate this, and that I’m not going to enjoy one second, but for the sake of the day’s adventure, I’ll pull it together, alright? Now let’s go have fun! Just ignore my sulking and enjoy!
Today: Stop tingeing the day with my particular brand of sadness. It’s only there because I crave what I know, good or bad.
Double today: Seek out the good and celebrate it in others. That’s how you get good stuff in return.
12 the hard way 