4/27/22 Another day at Cenikor (short term). I've made good progress, honestly, but I've gotten to the point where my reluctance to get things done has begun to surface. So far I've been able to push through and maintain my schedule and routine. Yet the arrival of these thoughts and feelings casts doubt on my ability to maintain sobriety/recovery out in the world. Perchance this is a healthy and normal feeling, but I still fear it all the same. Honestly, the more I become aware of my mind through meditation, the more I realize I am lost. I am a craven child shaking in terror beneath my bed. I crave isolation. I crave self-destruction. The devil and God are raging inside me. I have a tremendous history of making plans, schedules, brainstorms, and intentions for healthy change, and then never following through. Can I actually trust myself? I really don't know. Fear of failure is a cancer that persists inside me. Is it possible I'm just stumbling on my own feet? That I self-sabotage every healthy idea that crosses through my mind? Where does confidence come from? I need to start reminding myself every second that “it's okay” to feel/experience whatever is happening: Fighting negativity only feeds it and makes it stronger. I've gotten to “recognize” in the R.A.I.N. acronym, but I'm struggling with “acceptance.” I've been resistant to my anxiety, which only makes it worse. Persistence and practice is all I can do. I've realized now that I am battling instant gratification vs. long term stability. Another way to be an addict. “Whatever you put ahead of recovery, you're going to lose.”
