Precipice

I’m in that spot where I feel as though things are about to change for the better, but I know it’s not quite time and I especially don’t know what the change will be - simply that it’s all going to work out for the best. My job isn’t to know; it’s to trust. And I’m doing that.

That sounded a little 12-step cliche-y, and that’s OK - that trusting and faith is piece I brough with me into GA, and it’s nice to hear it confirmed by people from all walks of life and backgrounds.

I’ve been mildly resistant toward the idea of GA lately. I keep going back to the idea that if GA is a church, I’m happy to go to my sermon on Sundays, but don’t expect me to tithe 10% of my earnings, go to Bible study on Wednesday, ladies’ luncheon and Friday nights, ice cream social on Saturday and take the mission trip in the summer. I think what I get from my Sunday sermons is enough, even if others don’t.

Maybe that will change. Maybe this push-back is a product of 90 days on the immediate horizon and it IS my disease talking. Maybe not.

Had a dream last night in which I bought a house - a perfect house for me that I loved. I signed the contract and moved in but didn’t realize that a stipulation was that the previous owner got to keep staying in a little tiny closet off of the garage. It wasn’t a big room and he could come and go without disturbing me in the least, but he was a greasy little man with questionable morals, the idea of the him getting to keep residence in MY house vexed me terribly. And then the city came by and fined me $1700 for having a pitbull and scheduled a hearing where they would determine if they would kill my dog.

The first part - the skeevy guy in the closet - pretty easy to ascertain what’s what there. Am I going to keep allowing all the greasy things about me to co-exist with what I think is the true me - the kind, thoughtful, productive, quiet, hopeful person? Maybe the more important question is can I make peace with this guy, knowing he’s there - he’s always been there - but that him living in his sad little closet shouldn’t detract from me enjoying the rest of the house.

Wow. Bingo. There it is. Can I move on from all of the bad that I’ve done, recongizing it’s there and will always be there and that I let it be there, but still be able to be at peace with all the rest that is good?

Yes, I think I can.

And the dog? Well, that’s a simple. We have a dog, who happens to be a pitbull, that was very naughty yesterday.

The sub-conscious is a funny thing, no?

 
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On the One Hand …

I’m super proud of myself. 75 days of no drinking. Something like 82 of not gambling. I’m happier. I’m happy period. I am thinking about my future with hope. And, yet, the message remains that it’s not enough. I can’t stop. I can’t slow... Continue →