My own worst enemy

I wrote this on my tumblr...I'll share it here.

I relapsed again yesterday - no P, just M to O.

3 successive days marked by a relapse after 21 days of sobriety.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Texted my guys - my Magnificent 7 - and the brilliant seminarian turned medical student (no joke) helped me to identify my own worst enemy.

It’s not pornography.

It’s not masturbation or orgasm.

It’s not idle time.

Nor is it boredom.

It’s not anger.

It’s not frustration.

It’s not rampant desire or an overactive sex drive.

It’s not loneliness, but we’re getting closer.

It’s not feelings of rejection, but we’re getting there.

It’s neither shame nor humiliation, but they share much in common with my worst enemy.

And I should say that all of these things are horrible enemies, but they all work for one master.

My worst enemy in the fight for sobriety is self-pity.

It’s feeling like, “My guys don’t want to hear how I’ve fucked up…again. I’ll just text them when I get a couple days of sobriety under my belt.”

It’s thinking, “I relapsed. How could I even think I could make it to 30 days of sobriety?”

It’s believing, “I relapsed…again. There’s no way I can win this fight, so I’ll just drown myself in PMO.”

It’s that feeling of being paralyzed by shame and numbed by frustration.

Self-pity holds you down in darkness and locks you into humiliation.

Self-pity convinces you that you are weak and powerless, and it convinces you that shouldn’t even try to fight.

Self-pity says that you’re not worthy of victory; it says that you’re not even worth fighting for.

You don’t fall because of self-pity, but self-pity keeps you on the ground because it’s “safe” and “comfortable” there.

You aren’t even aware that it’s happening because self-pity sounds so rational.

"Of course I can’t win. I’ve been addicted to PMO for 15 years. This is just how it is. I should be realistic about myself."

And because self-pity sounds so logical, he quietly slips into your heart where he will wreak havoc on your spirit for days before you notice him. And by that point, he’s already got you shackled in his prison of shame.

But the worse part about self-pity? He makes you feel like you deserve every ounce of humiliation that you feel. “You reap what you sow, Andy. Suffer alone.”

Self-pity, that sense that I deserve every wrong thing that comes to me, is the source of all shame, frustration, impatience, guilt, weakness, anger, disconnectedness, isolation, and fear that I feel.

Not tonight, dammit. There’s a battle to win, a body to be fought for, and a spirit to be restored.