“Oh, you like tattoos? Then get pages 60–63 tattooed on the inside of your eyelids.” — Sponsor
Active alcoholism has a way of sidestepping purity of heart, magnifying our egocentric, self-centered core. Call it self-preservation, call it fear management, dress it up however. There is no self-seeker greater than an alcoholic whose life has been abducted by King Alcohol. They can be in Florida in the middle of winter and still find something to complain about. The sky is blue, the sun is shining, and somehow they’re irritated about the chair, the coffee, the noise, or the people around. All the while the illness is quietly doing what it does best—pushing people away and steering them back toward isolation.
Isn’t it when they throw back a couple drinks that the embarrassment multiplies? Barstools can turn into a State of the Union podium and suddenly they’re the self-elected Dictator of the room, explaining to everyone how great the world would be if people would just listen to them. Coming to after a bender, aren’t they left confused and embarrassed by the humiliation they brought on themselves? Their natural, yet neglected, sense of gratitude for simply living is now suffocated by self-pity. In its place grows a brilliantly egotistical commentary about what they deserved, what they wanted, and how right they were right along.
These opinions revolve around themselves—what they want, how they feel, and why most everyone seems to be doing it wrong. Opinions so delusionally based on self they can rarely find anyone willing to agree with them. And when conflict ultimately shows up, they throw their hands in the air and wonder why most everyone is so rude. The lenses in their glasses are backwards, constantly looking outward at the world for someone to blame. Comfortably they retreat into resentment, into self-pity, and ultimately back into themselves.Where is judgment costing you something in your life right now?
“Oh, you like tattoos? Then get pages 60–63 tattooed on the inside of your eyelids.” — Sponsor
Active alcoholism has a way of sidestepping purity of heart, magnifying our egocentric, self-centered core. Call it self-preservation, call it fear management, dress it up however. There is no self-seeker greater than an alcoholic whose life has been abducted by King Alcohol. They can be in Florida in the middle of winter and still find something to complain about. The sky is blue, the sun is shining, and somehow they’re irritated about the chair, the coffee, the noise, or the people around. All the while the illness is quietly doing what it does best—pushing people away and steering them back toward isolation.
Isn’t it when they throw back a couple drinks that the embarrassment multiplies? Barstools can turn into a State of the Union podium and suddenly they’re the self-elected Dictator of the room, explaining to everyone how great the world would be if people would just listen to them. Coming to after a bender, aren’t they left confused and embarrassed by the humiliation they brought on themselves? Their natural, yet neglected, sense of gratitude for simply living is now suffocated by self-pity. In its place grows a brilliantly egotistical commentary about what they deserved, what they wanted, and how right they were right along.
These opinions revolve around themselves—what they want, how they feel, and why most everyone seems to be doing it wrong. Opinions so delusionally based on self they can rarely find anyone willing to agree with them. And when conflict ultimately shows up, they throw their hands in the air and wonder why most everyone is so rude. The lenses in their glasses are backwards, constantly looking outward at the world for someone to blame. Comfortably they retreat into resentment, into self-pity, and ultimately back into themselves.
Where is judgment costing you something in your life right now?
