Anarchy Addiction and Miracles
“Miracles happen every day”
Even better, you can make them.
Rebel Without a Cause
I am a recovering alcoholic and an addict. Not so much an addict to substance abuse as to highs, but to controls – to influencers and influences.
I notice I’ve began describing myself as anarchist to most people, and this to me is truer than any other description I can posture or pin on myself. Rebel. Of course. Without a cause. Of course.
But something inside anarchy just FEELS right. It feels like when humans are reduced to bare-boned nothingness, that’s when they find the greatest greatnesses – and the deepest depravities.
In all my alcoholic binges and benders, I think that’s what I secretly wanted enlightenment on – what would, and can, happen when you can’t move a micro muscle and every one in the world loathes you. Because you just went and did that most painful thing you swore never to do. All over again.
And at 52, recovery takes a long time. You come off the drill, fall away from the circuit, sink below the surface, for two weeks before you get your head back in a place that doesn’t despise you, deride you, laugh at you and talk to you. Literally.
Lessons from 30 Years as an Addict
What I’ve learnt in 30-odd years of being an addict?
That every time you survive a blowout, another lapse, a little or large fall, it’s a blasted miracle. No body was made to take such abuse. And yet the monkey mind is all-controlling.
Don’t go making sense of this. It just is. I am. I just am. That’s what all addicts are. They just exist. No grand design. No grand plan how to come out of this tunnel. Grand promises, maybe. And the fact that you live to promise another day has got to be a miracle.
A miracle spun by the God of Chaos.
And that’s why Anarchy will always find a preferential option in me.
I am a junkie addicted to highs. And for now, and all time, I shall make staying on the beam my life’s challenge.
Anarchy Addiction and Miracles by Paul
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