Therapy. . .Again

Therapy tomorrow. Gees, where to begin. Get about an hour before the therapist will say, "well our time is up for today. . .can you come back this same time next week?" I've done this therapy thing before and I'm not sure it helped much. I don't know. Maybe it did - some - on some level. But it sure didn't fix things long term. I think I'm more fucked up today then I've ever been before. And I don't know why. Isn't that stupid? To be this fucked up and not know why. Senseless! If one is going to spend life - wasting away - amounting to nothing - contributing nothing - one ought to at least know why, don't ya think? But I don't. I'm clueless. Maybe that's an issue for therapy. Why am I so damned clueless? How on earth can one be fixed if they don't know what's wrong in the first place? I know all the symptoms to my fuckeduptiveness, but I don't know the root cause of it. Isn't there someone I can blame for all of this? Surely to God I can point to someone in my past and lay it all on them. Right? Isn't that the way to go? The blame game? Doesn't that give one a pass? Or some entitlement? You get to be this way or that way "because" someone else did this or that. OR. It's not your fault you are so fucked up. . .after all, look at what so and so did or didn't do. Yeah! That's the ticket! Blame it on someone else. Wait. Nope. I don't think that will work. I WANT to be WELL. How can I be well if I don't accept that I am who I am because of me? Because of my choices and decisions? Yeah, no, I think I gotta accept responsibility here. If I do that, then maybe, just maybe, wellness will be within reach. After all, if I made the mess, then I can fix the mess, right? Current existence amounts to this: Wake up in so much (physical) pain that I can barely put one foot on the floor - while knowing that every new day will bring more pain than the day before. Hobble over to my desk knowing full well that the day is coming where I won't be able to hobble. . .I'll have to roll or wheel my way over to the desk. Ugh! at the thought of that! Take my magical prescription medication - the shit that's causing all the pain in the first place - wait 30 minutes - then feel all good. All good in my head anyway. Turn off the pain receptors in the brain and the body forgets - momentarily anyway - that it's in pain. Step two. . . shower, shave and shine (sort of). Take on my day, which always includes eating copious amount of sugar! I don't know why - but there is definitely a connection between pain medication and sugar cravings. Anyway, eat and eat and eat and eat - anything where sugar is the first ingredient on the ingredient's list. Battle the sugar/pain medication crash all day by ingesting more of each as needed to remain awake and keep my body in an upright position - until bed time. Oh, and smoke like a freight train. Let's not forget that! About 2 cartons a week. How is that even possible??? I don't know, but since that's my current nicotine consumption, it is. That's all I know. It is. Sleep. Wake up. . . repeat. Sucks! That's it! That's my current existence. What the fuck? How did this happen? Jesus, this ain't living! This ain't life! This bullshit sucks! Have I already died? Am I already in hell? Maybe. If I'm in hell and I pinch myself, will I magically transport myself somewhere else? I doubt it. That's probably how hell works. You suspect you are there, you very much want to be somewhere else, you pinch yourself hoping against hope, and nothing. Notta! Zip, zero, zilch, nothing! Still in hell! There has just got to be a better way. I just gotta find it. Maybe this time therapy will be just the vehicle that will get me there. Maybe. Have hope. I have hope. Not sure where it came from really, but it's there just the same. Now for the life I want. . . Wake up, no pain, pleasant thoughts about the day and all that it might bring. Shower, shave and shine (for real!). Go through the day with a smile on my face and kind words for all who cross my path. Fully engaged. Fully alive! No sugar cravings. No nicotine cravings. Spending the $100 a week I now spend on cigarettes investing in a new hobby or new cause - anything that is positive and near and dear to my heart. Something that I can get excited about. Something that I can be proud to tell friends and family about. Something that sets me apart - makes me unique - in a positive way. I want to BE the person that others seek out - want to be with - want to talk with - want to share life with. I want to BE the person others look forward to seeing and miss when I'm gone. I do. I really, really do. I don't want to stand outside the circle anymore resenting those that make up the circle or are in the middle of the circle. I want to be an inspiration to others. I want to inspire. I want to fly. I want to live on life's high. All natural like John Denver used to sing about. Yeah. That's what I want. I want to go to sleep at night exhausted because of energy spent throughout the day living an authentic, positive, creative, fully-engaged life. Is it possible? Can I do it? Can I MAKE this my life? My reality? Hmm. Maybe I'll ask the therapist tomorrow. Who knows. Maybe she's got the roadmap. Maybe she knows how to get there. So maybe I'll just ask.