Step 1: We admitted that we were powerless over ______ (insert substance of choice) and that our lives had become unmanageable.
Fuck me. I don’t want to be powerless. I want to take action and control and force and white-knuckle my way through my problems.
I’m IN CONTROL!!!!
Imagine me saying that is a screeching shrill voice reminiscent of the man in black from Roger Rabit. “Remember me Eddie! When I killed your brother! I talked! Just! Like!! THIIIIISSS!!!!” Eye’s bugging out of my head like daggers.
Next my head will spin in circles and I’ll vomit pea soup.
I’m so in control that it’s become unmanageable. And I think that is what is helping me to see that I am powerless, as much as I don’t want to be.
My life is unmanageable. It’s out of control despite my best efforts. I seem to be incapable of putting one foot in front of the other some days. Many days I just want to hide under the covers and not face my failings…to not be in control and continue the struggle of twisting and bending myself to fit some idea of what is right and normal and healthy.
There’s a stubborn streak in me that screams “you’re not quitting! get your ass up! get out there and bend and twist! Make it happen!” All the while getting more shrill. And frankly, I’m spent from all the grasping.
I’m tired of this struggle. I’m tired of the fruitless efforts. I can’t seem to produce results anymore. Maybe…
Could I really be powerless?
Despite my best efforts, and there have been a lot of attempts and trials over my life, I still find myself at the starting line. In worse shape than when I first tried. I’m taking myself further from my goals, not closer.
So here I sit. Pondering this. Trying to swallow my pride and admit to powerlessness. The evidence is there…but I can’t seem to lay it down. My willful toddler is emerging, sticking out her lower lip, crossing her arms and refusing.
God help me let go. Help me lay it down.