Life Is Hard

I keep saying that to myself as if it’s an expectation. From my view point it’s very true. I’ve been 673 days in recovery for “you name it “and that’s where I feel I’m at. God is trying His hardest to get me to someplace that I don’t know how to get to. My fight is daily, sometimes hourly and first thing in the morning is by the minute. Still the same oppressive feeling every day as soon as my brain starts rubbing cells together enough to remember where I’m at. Tired of being the bad guy in all this. Can’t have a conversation with anyone in my household because they think I’m the freakin’ boogie man. I’m not touching anyone else’s stuff or asking questions because they only lead me to anxiety. God help me.