Pride
Pride has served me badly. I put on a brave face all my life out of pride. I wouldn’t acknowledge to anyone, including myself, how much I was hurting. I was mourning my mother’s death, my rocky progress in school, my lack of athletic ability, and not understanding why I did impulsive things I instantly regretted.
I stood tall, lied, and ignored my feelings. Fakery and bullshit were my default modes. I’m smart, so I often got away with it unless I had to prove it. “Admit nothing, deny everything, make counter accusations.” I was great at counter accusations because of my well-tuned bullshit detector. I operated this way for probably 60 years.
In more recent years I developed enough self-awareness to detect my own bullshit. Mostly. I knew about my ADD/ADHD and had years of therapy and various group activities to build a reservoir of mostly honest behavior. Except for the addictions. Pride kept them in the closet. I drank and drugged without admitting my helplessness.
I like to accuse oil companies of lying, cheating, and stealing. I saw it because I was doing the same thing. About three years ago my therapist / Jungian Analyst/ Addiction Counselor looked me in the eye and said “You are an Alcoholic.” did I begin getting it. Despite all my prideful front, I was a mess. I quit drinking and got serious about wrestling with my non-substance related addictions. I go to meetings, pray, and meditate.
For the first time in my life I may be getting past all the pride and deception. I do have to say the wrestling with non-substance addiction is a win some, lose some proposition. Maybe I have to be more honest, less secretive, and humble with my shortcomings.