Endigar 210

What a horrid night!  That self-loathing I talked of in the previous post became a voice that I could express as if I was in spiritual contact with another entity.  I wanted to record what was being said to me, but the computer kept freezing up.  A bag moved in the room.  Other small sounds that startle.

“You might as well drink, you aren’t worth anything sober!  What the hell is your major malfunction boy?  You don’t have the guts to do what needs to be done.  You disgust me, you little pussy.  You can’t even devote yourself to simple daily disciplines, someone always has to cover your ass.  No wonder you disappoint everyone you are around.”

The desire to drink last night was the desire to stop hearing this voice.  Who or what the hell is it?

I have no idea why I am still sober this morning after dealing with that diatribe of reflective character assassination.  It is not with me this morning.  Well, not as a separate entity.  I retreated to my room last night and went to bed.  I did not even bother taking off my cloths.  I threw the covers over my head.  Shit! Another damn nightmare.  Three nights in a row now.  But I was physically exhausted enough to rest in the bosom of my succubus.  Good night, Lilith.

My personal mythology no longer includes special effects from “The exorcist.”  Demon supported theology pits human beings against one another.  It is one of the pillars of the religion I hate.  I can no longer embrace it.  Church attendance was turned into social quarantine.  There is a saying that has crept into the rooms that is so close to this religious concept, that I fear the possibility of a churchian hijack of our beautiful spirituality.  “Hang with the winners.”  Religion is effective at behavioral control, but only at the cost of your personal mythology.  That habit of dismissing others as losers tends to boomerang on its practitioner. 

A more scientific explanation for last night’s encounter would be that the chemicals are having residual effects as they are leaving my body and mind.  And in my anxiety I was doing something to cause problems with the computer. Yet in my heart, I feel there was more than that going on.  As I meditate on this I can hear my history professor. He said that like the journalist, a historian must be concerned with the questions who, what, where, how, and why…but the historian’s most important question is So What?  What is the significance and relevance.  If I have a way to escape, why measure the teeth on the predator?

I have found that one of the spiritual tools this program has given me is the power to walk forward without knowing.  Acceptance is the solution.  I am an alcoholic, and when I drink – bad things will happen.  Being able to move forward and take action without having a supporting religious dogma gives me hope.  I am alive today for a reason and I know this intuitively.  I cannot describe to you what that reason is.  I just know it is there.  But I could be wrong, and that is ok.  I will follow this unknown God, this undefined Higher Power, because it is able to restore me to sanity.  And sanity precedes serenity. 

I want to say thank-you to the unknown God.  I don’t know where the hell You’re going, but I want to walk this out with you.

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