The Bitter Morass of Self-Pity

My car is in the shop and will cost a lot of money. Once again.

My relationship didn’t work out. I’m 53 and going it alone.

My career stands pretty much nowhere.

But I can’t and don’t feel sorry for myself. I’m so incredibly blessed and lucky. I have a place to live, enough money to live, dear friends, great family, options, my health (maybe not all my teeth, but there truly are consequences of bulimia and cocaine!)

This good attitude is not natural to me. This is not the way I lived the first four decades of my life – not in the least. I believed myself the complete victim. POOR and ME were about the only two words I uttered.

My self-pity lead me to a life of severe eating disorders, alcohol and drugs. That was my problem really; self-pity. If you’d had my life, you’d drink too!!! Right? Wrong.

Food, drugs and alcohol weren’t my problems. They were the solutions I tried to use to fix my problems. But they didn’t work BECAUSE I WAS MY PROBLEM.

The Twelve Steps helped fix the problem – ME.

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