God help me

I don’t know why I had to go through that. The last week. Month. Three months. Year. Ten years. And how poorly I treated so many people. I feel better today. More at peace than ever. More of myself than ever. Therapy yesterday was huge. We confronted my monster and understood his deepest wounds. I don’t hate everyone anymore. I might actually have fond feelings for my neighbors. Taj said hi yesterday and I felt like he was a friend. And Andy feels like a friend. And Jeff. And Jill. And Mike. Dave. Kara. Cara. Dee. My best friend Alex. My poor little sister. The bell and giro team. Richard sent out an email from church and I thought, wow that is a loving church. It was hard to see before. Amber called me from jail last night. I couldn’t get her. I need recoupersting time for my own wounds. I realize she was never the problem. It was just past things for me. I slyly and subconsciously took it out on her. Just like I do to everyone. But make myself feel good because I have a house and I have a clean life. That has all changed since yesterday. This morning, I had no worry. No job. No worry. I’ll get a job. It’ll be ok. Even if I have to live on the street, I have my sobriety. I’ll never go that low. That’s what’s amazing. Living in the street wouldn’t be bad. For me it would be fun. Engineering all sort so things for people. Start a little business in a tent and maybe a trading market. I’d have it all figured out. And I know how to push these little buggers minds to take some action. It won’t get to homelessness for me. But it wouldn’t be bad.

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