Friday, November 23, 2012

Step Four: The Inventory

We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves


Who or what am I afraid of? Why? I'm terrified of needles and surgery, but I don't think that applies to my recovery.  I've always been upset and weak-kneed around them.  A wonderful reason to stay away from IV drugs.  I'm afraid of what comes next.  I cannot predict everything with my tarot cards, and I'm terrified of bad news.  I won't pick up my mail for weeks on end.  I don't want to be homeless anymore, and one of my greatest fears I think would be to not be able to be a part of my children's lives. 

What have I done to cover my fear? Fake it till you make it.  I have a wonderful "everything is honkeydory" mask that I put on a lot.  Not too many people get to see me without it.  I have been unwilling to talk about anything with my counselors lately, not for fear of criticism, but of being overwhelmed with emotion, forever being unable to figure out why or how I feel whatever it is that's boiling in my gut.  I want to curl up in a ball and sleep the world away.  Though lately with these crazy nightmares I've been unwilling to sleep very well either.

How have I responded negatively or destructively to my fear? Drugs of course, that would be a big one.  I cut sometimes.  Isolation seems to be the theme in how I react to a lot of things.  I don't want to see it or hear about it or anything.  Just leave me alone.

What do I most fear looking at and exposing about myself?  What do I think will happen if I do? My love is dead, or at least severely damaged.  I feel guilty when someone loves me and I cannot reciprocate.  That stove is still hot, you know.  And touching it over and over again has only given me burns and scars upon my heart.  My laziness and unwillingness to participate wholly in my life.  Live in a haze of happy with a bowl and some crushed up pills.  I already know what I don't want to see or live.  I don't have the capability to care about it anymore.  I'm too emotionally exhausted to put up a fight anymore.

How have I cheated myself because of my fear? I've  cheated myself out of a normal life I think.  To allow myself to not participate in the outside world I have lost many an opportunity.  Instead of dealing with it, I run away to fantasy land (with or without the drugs) and hope to never have to return.  Unfortunately the world doesn't stay still or wait for me.  I get behind and freak out that I'm drowning in lapses of judgement, medication and state help.

I've suffered long enough

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