Day 388
There have been happy times in my life, so it hits me hard when I hear a fellow talk about how hopeless he was in his addiction, and I realize that that was me. It takes my breath away when I read an academic writing on my disease, and right there on the page is my shame and loneliness with everything but my name.
How can I remember and cling to memories of happy times while acknowledging how dark was my pit? How can I remember my shame and deceit so strongly, and tell my counselor I had an idyllic childhood?
I do not know, but I know both are true.
I think my life has been a constant struggle between those worlds, with one side having the edge over the other on any given day. And then came the moment when one side nearly defeated the other, and my addiction danced prematurely on the grave of my values and disciplines. Barely prematurely.
–JR
There's no music, no dreams, no way out?
No flag to unfold when you walk between worlds
No fear, no wisdom, no doubt
What good can it bring to ignore suffering
To shut out all the rage inside?
–Simple Minds, ”Walk Between Worlds"
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