Day 483
Watching myself act-out was always a surreal, nearly mystical experience. Whether it was a massage parlor or an affair, there was a consistent space in whatever place I was in that "I" would watch what was going on. The perception was always that it was through the eyes of a different version of myself, usually a younger manifestation, and it was rarely an erotic experience.
My shame was alive and well, looking through wide eyes, while the acting-out part of me was embarrassed that I was being watched. This split was never far from my conscious, often showing up at the other end of the bar while I drank and tried to impress, or even in the back seat of my car while listening to me make arrangements through the hands-free speaker.
This segregation of myself may have been related to my honest self yielding to my dishonest self whenever my addict so instructed. And recovery has not made this phenomenon go away. I believe it to be a spiritual separation, not a metaphysical illusion.
I have been regarded as a man of faith and integrity for most of my life, and I do not believe it was all a lie. I am beginning to understand the relationship between brokenness and my Higher Power.
It is not a broken relationship, but it is a relationship in brokenness.
I recently heard someone say that God's favorite part of me is not my perfection but my brokenness because there is no perfect part of me. Amen.
–JR
I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole and then i followed it in
I watched myself crawlin' out as i was a-crawlin' in
I got up so tight i couldn't unwind
I saw so much i broke my mind
–Kenny Rogers, ”Just Dropped In"
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