I have to own my disorders. Times are changing and the stakes have never been higher. If I want to make it out of this killbox alive, then I have to take all those negative aspects of my personality and send them deep beyond the event horizon. I need to learn to be satisfied with what I do and do not have. For instance, I can no longer hemorrhage money like I have and neither can I bleed the good will of others. I’m old enough to know better. There may not be much beneath the skin, but there is enough to ensure that the rest of my life is different from the first thirty years of it. I’m twitching as the walls cave in, but I still have resources and a way out. Being the best I’ve ever been is not enough; I must be better.
My therapist has been asking me to surrender myself for a long time. She wants to see me in auto-pilot, almost robotic in my approach to living. She wants me to shut up and listen, more so than ever before. It is time to shed my skin and live renewed. Gratitude. Balance. Control. Structure. These facets need to become the ideals that I live by on a daily basis. I need to show gratitude toward those around me and toward those things that I have. I need to be balanced in the face of frenzy, level-headed to a fault and acting only when necessary. I must take control of my personality and – combined with gratitude – show others that I can put another before me. And, I need all of this in a structured fashion so that my latent state is slowly choked by the vacuum.
The walls are closing in and I am faced with both infinite destruction and infinite potential. My life can be better than it ever has. But, on the other hand, if I do not learn from the past and take heart of those poisonous ways I can possess, my life can be worse than it ever has. I have to want to want differently. I need to need differently. Finally, I must dream to dream differently. I deserve no less. Maybe, more importantly, others deserve no less.