Positive Self-Assurance

There was this guy who was around for a while when I was getting sober.  I didn't like him much, which is not surprising for a guy who hates everyone.  He had a house and a car and a girlfriend so that may have had something to do with it.  I had a car but he had a nice car, probably one that started even when it was wet or cold or very hot or hadn't been run in the last 20 minutes or so.  He was a salesman as I recall; I didn't much like salesmen then which is why I became one.  I figured I could change the whole profession.  I'm like that - I think big so that I have plenty of opportunities to beat the shit out of myself when I fall short.

Anyway, this guy - like many of us - thought he could beat his alcoholism with pure force of will.  We do that.  We think about things until our heads blow up or fall off, figuring there's a solution for everything in there.  And we grab the bull by the horns and come up with solid, forceful game plans that have absolutely no chance of succeeding, as any sleeping three year old could tell you.  Now that we have it all figured out, we can Take Some Action.  Action can be a very good thing; however, sober action does not equal drunken action which often includes swinging at cops, telling off bosses and late, late night phone calls made in a total blackout. 

This guy started off on a self-improvement jag.  He began on a Positive Thinking binge; no matter what the problem was he'd attack it with the right mental attitude and emerge victorious.  He quickly wearied of all the positivity and veered into Assertive Therapy.  He'd take people, places, and things and Bend Them To His Will through sheer mental gymnastics.

"I was walking around absolutely murdering people with positive self-assurance," he said.

On the golf course one day, after shanking shot after shot into the rough, cheerfully asserting that everything was great, his bewildered partner finally said: "What the hell are you talking about.  You just hit a shot out of bounds.  You're not even on the course.  You're terrible."

I don't remember exactly the point of the story.  Something to do with a "fearless and searching moral inventory," I think.  Looking with honesty at who I am and what I've done instead of seeing life through the warped perspective of the asbottom of a whiskey glass.