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Let’s make this the year of questioning:  as part of my desire to become increasingly comfortable in my own skin, I’ll be exploring some of the taken-for-granted truths that I’ve be telling myself since before I ever pick up a bottle.  For reference’s sake, I’m filing these under Step Four.

Step Four: made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

Question One:  Why do I believe what I believe?
For years, I thought my brain was trying to kill me.  I’d say as much in breakout sessions (“my brain is trying to kill me”) to look cool.  I believed my thoughts were my enemies, adopting various shapes and forms, and I needed be ever-vigilant, because they were forever cunning, baffling, powerful.  I’d dulled them for years through cheap medication, which is the mental equivalent to “kick the can”.

False Belief:  My brain is against me.
Treating my mind like it’s my personal Moriarty gives it a power it’s got no business possessing.  It’s not corporeal.  Pretty grim, believing that my thoughts are part of some sinister plot designed to get me to start drinking again, this time losing everything and everyone; just me and my brain and booze and self-pity in a studio apartment with basic cable.

New Belief:  My brain is a puppy.
Sharp teeth, loud, and full of undisciplined energy, the keyword being undisciplined.  There’s no need to see these wayward fears and worries as adversarial; it only gives them weight and power.  Remember:  intensity does not equal legitimacy.  Puppies are high-energy.  They need to be exercised daily until tuckered out.

2 thoughts on “my brain is a puppy.

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