I'm looking for where I failed in 2015 to see where to focus my resolution energy. Writing of course; even succeeding at this is irregular at best. Finding friends? I worry that I'm too self-involved now to be a good friend. For over a decade now I've put my recovery selfishly, even cruelly and probably detrimentally first.
That has to stop.
There has to be more to me than my recovery, there simply has to.
There is, but no one's looked for it, really, in over a decade. I don't need to just get back to where I was at the end of January, 1999. But where I can be, now.
I would miss the old me, but really, what's the point in that?
Arguing for my independence with my trust lords has gotten really old, really fast. See, I’m like a poor man’s Brittany Spears: all my money is in a special needs trust, dispensed as need be by my Trustees: Gil Roth and Peter Johnson. Gil, I’ve been friends with since St. John’s. Peter does this for a living, & cuts me a world of always legal and ethical slack. More tomorrow. Nighty-night.
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