Endigar 262

I was recently tasked by my sponsor to look for the root cause of my fear fever when approaching my military Physical Training test.  I came up with irrational statements of self-loathing that I could not find a reason for.  But then I was listening to an audio book, a fictional novel about a serial killer.  The book was called “The Bride Collector” by Ted Dekker.  Toward the end, as the detective faces the killer, he realizes something about himself.  He loved himself, and that this self-love had prevented him from being able to intimately love anyone else.  This resonated with me.  But hadn’t I expressed self-hatred?  How cold both love and hate exist together?  Then it occurred to me, that when love creates expectations, and those expectations become central, and they are crushed, I could see the passion of love giving way to the fires of hatred.  Does this not explain the cyclic nature of my discipline, my emotions, the roller coaster ride between isolated obsession and judgmental depression?  As hatred cools down into loathing, I am relieved that the unrealistic standard I have of myself has passed.  And as the loathing regresses, I give myself some introspective time to see “what went wrong.”  I begin to enjoy reviewing my dreams and once again look for a way to manifest my internal reality into the interactive one.  As I obsess, I fall in love with me again.  But life keeps interrupting my time with me.  And I cling to my expectations of me, build a standard that will be above reproach, invincible to invasion, impossible to misunderstand, and universally accepted.  This standard becomes an icon I can never truly fulfill.  I fail me, again.  I hate me.  And I hate this life.

By the way, the last statements do not reflect my current state of mind.  I am just following the cycle around.  Notice the arrows circling the core of my being in a clockwise direction?  That represents the propulsion of my will.  And this chart reflects my understanding of self-will, that there is bad self-will, which is the product of fear, and tends to isolate and cut-off.  Then there is good self-will that pushed me to pursue sobriety in the first place.  I wanted to live and was willing to do whatever I had to secure that end.  I would not be breathing without a good dose of this self-preservation.

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