Financial terror

As I continue to grow in spirit, the old realities continue to get further and further behind. When they say that the road becomes narrower, they were not kidding. The Big Book equates Fear with stealing, an apt simile. However, I find that the longer I stay sober the more enormous and ravenous my ego gets, in certain areas of my life. As far as finances are concerned, there is really no greater fear that I know of in any arena of my life. Financial fear hits me in ways that are so fundamentally primary that I really can't say I understand its nature at all. But the truth is that the my fear seems rather independent of my financial reality. It is suffused with a dread of dying, alone mind you, when even the possibility of my resources drying up come into my mind. I can't tell you how many times I have wanted to pay my bills with a grip of death, simply daring the poor individual who collects the money to take it from me, especially over the phone by check. I feel a certain kind of shame about paying my way. I'm not allowed to take care of myself, see, and when I do the ism makes damn sure that it reminds me of every kind of conceivable disaster after doing so. My faith is so incredibly limited in this area, so unbelievably contracted, that only a higher power can possibly save me from myself.

So what does my HP do today? Well, I found out that I was only getting half an unemployment payment, rather the the full two weeks. The truth is that I should not be getting it at all if it weren't for my petitioning the state. But, am I grateful for this? Hell no. I want what I want and I want it now (King Baby with an inferiority complex). Everyone has to serve a one week waiting period and I am no exception. But I just can't stop believing that I'm different, that I'm the one who is the problem and the cause and if I were just what people wanted me to be, what God wanted me to be, then I wouldn't have the problems I have.

Faith takes a vacation right away when this old, habitual thinking kicks in. It is a self perpetuating form of masochism. I was on the phone with the nice lady and we got disconnected. But she didn't hang up on me. It was a god disconnect. And that was just what I needed to remember the gratitude of his caring for me. And to continue, no matter how constipated I am, to surrender.