When I’m wallowing in my pity pot, it’s really difficult to bring back to consciousness the better times of a few hours, weeks, or years ago. I just latch on to the idea that I’m invisible, ignored, and disrespected...
...which does bring to mind some concrete examples of “where I’m at fault” / “where I’m not living up to another’s expectations”
...or, in the AA context, brings to mind inventory items
But, I also don’t think of completely healthy amends, either. Some times, my desires are at odds with “what society desires”... but more often than not, I still opt for the latter; even if it kills a part of my soul.
Yes, I am rambling aloud, to the air, while waiting, alone, at the bus stop. It might have some vagueness and/or drama sprinkled in the above
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