Addict Mocked With Condescension
We’re No Longer Bluffing. We’re No Longer A Joke.
A time comes in some of our lives where we reach certain turning points of realizations about ourselves. People like me, who for a long time was buried, deep down past the darkest dark somehow crawled out from underneath. An accomplishment more mocked & sneered at, then understood & respected.
That strange equation, one that seems fully backwards was a mysteries that came out of those realizations I had.
The realization does one major thing. It finally makes us confident and sure, that we are no longer a joke.
No longer a “bullshittin dreamer carrying tales of falsehoods and illusion.” Our doing well is challenged. They treat it like a ridiculous bluff. They laugh at our misgivings.
Seeing a person completely change for the better seems to cause disappointment and confusion in some that patronize & condescend me. Yes, a mysterious trait of sick sick people indeed. These people only having happy lives, when they are living in their facebook world.
Many insist, that the sobriety must fake, must be untrue. The ones pointing all the fingers to “expose” those who live “lies,” are actually, the ones living the biggest lies of all.
Many get furious when told I’m a writer. Shaking heads, thinking,“oh here we go again, dreamers at it again, trying to make millions.” When trying to share a bit of my work, it’s met with anger. As if insulted. Their face, eyes, may show misery. Misery for my minor success. Then react with anger. Who hurts from my little success in writing? Maybe I’m injuring someone but unaware?I have wanted to be an author for 30 years. Before finding faith in sobriety, it used to be horrifying feeling as if I was a main character of a soap opera filmed in my town 24/7. Am I just quite interesting? Even to those I hadn’t known in a decade or more?
I’ve come to a place where I give no energy, or time to any venture or person offering me pain, or steps backwards. Even if invited or seemingly friendly. TRUST ME, it’s the friendly, smiling ones who are even closer to the devil! It took almost losing my whole entire life and spirit to win a battle that was a decade full of darkness, addiction, lost self, lost purpose, damaging health, and a faithless life? I damn sure can’t waste time with that. I don’t have a second chance. I’d likely not survive any more damage, physically or mentally. Because so much time and body was already wasted. Why choose to lose when already winning?
I discovered my writing is the “IT” factor I needed to get an edge. That extra edge is making all the difference in life & death ways; literally. An Entity keeping me sane, grounded & honest.
I rely on my writing 24/7 until the day I die.
I started saying that I was married to my writing when I learned that writing was the most trusting relationship I would ever be able to have. It knows my deepest frightening secrets, things that scare me the most. My most extreme vulnerabilities. So intense, they were never meant to be spoken of. My most classified parts of my life.
It’s the best and most faithful relationship a guy can have. I trust it with my whole being.
My writing gets my faith. It knows everything. The type of things in the world that if in the wrong hands, could risk exposing weaknesses so devastating, that life would never ever be the same again. I have faith that my trust in my writing is safe. I know it will never double cross me, turn it’s back, or expose to the world, things about me, fate never wanted shared.
The magnitude so powerful, no other human was ever made to take on.
These type of things I can’t even my most trusted loved ones. It’s a double edge sword. No human has ever been totally perfect. Mistakes & accidents happen out of anger with humans all the time. In the heat of the moment, someone could spotlights my darkness inside. The relationship would immediately cease forever. I’m not ready to lose a loved one.
So, I entrust the weight of my endless skeletons in the closet, all my faith, all my vulnerability, all my weakness, things I’m deathly afraid of, to my writing.
Like I’ve said before, I’m married to my writing.
Give no energy to those mock. Engage no argument, no threat. Nobody can defend me more then me. Defend your honor; keep it whole, modest & true. Battles but use no fist.
Wonderful when underdogs earn success. If you haven’t captured a passion yet, never be flooded with jealousy. It’s the hardest emotion to recover from. Many never do.
Your passion will come, will arrive at its right time. A passion works on Faith’s timing. Never rush one, let it grow & mature. It’ll reach your soul just right.
A passion is best, when a passion’s on time.
Those that are condescending to us underdogs may likely hate their lives. In a secret world of misery. They don’t like themselves.
It’s our turn to turn down the dial. Shut down responses to the condescending faces. They’ll sneer at us day to day. They did before you. They do now. They will after you. I got nothing for anyone mocking ones weaker. I find it shameful.
Remember, some are still sick and suffering. Just because someone gets well, does not mean other people did. The ones that snicker at us, are the ones refusing to face their own issues.
They mock, as a technique of deflection. Let their misery in their hearts be your silent snickering to them.
Condescension, definition=an attitude of patronizing superiority; disdain.