Discipline is Dirty Work

All I wanted was a little peace. All I had was sporadic feelings that I couldn’t help but attach my self worth to.

Addiction has a way of tunneling into the core of us and reducing everything to pain or pleasure. And I ended up solely seeking pleasure while being scared to death of discomfort.

By the time I sobered up, I equated the normal discomfort one might experience in a slow grocery line with a serious personal affront.

It seemed out of the question that I might live in a peaceful state of mind without using some chemical to achieve it. I’d grown accustomed to shortcuts and resistant to work.

No wonder they say our emotional age is arrested when we begin our addiction. I needed to grow up.

The truth was better than I’d imagined, though. Once I did concede that to live in any kind of harmony with others I’d have to conform a bit and reform a lot, the path forward became a little clearer, if no less easy.

And thank God for sponsorship and friendship from others who had recovered. The value of little bits of encouragement from those who’ve blazed the trail is priceless for the newly sober.

That encouragement thankfully took the form of correction from time to time too. I’m so glad I was usually able to accept it for the good counsel that it was.

God, get my ego out of the way of my spiritual well-being.