Failure?

Monuments to ourselves don’t mean a damn thing. Ego often gets in the way of improvement. I’ve spent the past few decades crawling out of a pit of self-destruction. Rather by depression, panic, or verbal abuse; the signs were all there of my eventual failure. Looking back though, I wonder if I can really call any of it a failure?

From day one of my mental collapse, I’ve sought beneficial relief. I never turned to legal drugs, alcohol, or even prescription abuse for relief. I guess you could say I toughed it out. But even through this or my current physical troubles, I’m not building any monuments for myself. That would be pretentious or at the very least, asking for trouble.

Much like my AA friends, I take it one day at a time. Occasionally slipping and falling, having to get up and start all over again. My point here is, despite any pre-destined troubles you may have, never give up trying. Sitting outside with Mommy Cat, I can’t help but admire her survival skills. Pregnant and alone she and her kittens have survived, eventually landing at our front door. Don’t let the troubles you endure steal away your hope. Remain vigilant of your own survival. Not only for yourself, but for those you touch every day.