perfectly imperfect

      I've been thinking a lot today. When I started this blog that would've been such a cliche statement, but to be honest I haven't been lost in too much thought lately....I've been choosing to really trust in god.
      Well today was a little different. I prayed multiple times, I asked him, begged him really, to direct my thinking...Mainly though I asked him why?..
       Of all the times I have called upon him with this simple phrase, this time was very different. Those three letters popped up a lot during my addiction, considering that all began when I was 11 years old, for the sake of it, I'll just say for the bulk of my young life I have thoroughly abused this question. Why me? Why am I hurting? Why am I high again, drunk again, lost again again and again? Why am I not the superhero I was sure I was? Why don't they like me, or love me, or why dooo they love me so much, and what the hell have I done? I could go on for pages..
     Then today it dawned on me as I was asking god this oh too familiar inquiry...I should really be saying WHAT instead of WHY. What can I do to stop the hurting? What can I do to ensure I will no longer live as a sick person, a sick woman? What can I strive for that will make me of maximum service to my loved ones? I need action in my life not more questions that I lose sleep over.
      Why means that I doubt myself, it means that I question my judgement, my way of life. What means that I am trying, that I am growing and learning as long as I keep asking.
      When I got sober I wanted to turn everythinggg over to god. All of my character defects, all of my problems. I was finally willing. During this time and the few months to follow I realized I gave up literally everything I had. I forgot that even though those characteristics were defects, they were only that way because I was using them defectively. Some of my character traits were good and actually worth holding on to.  So needless to say I've been walkin around kind of confused.
     I put so much pressure on myself to do gods will alone that I forgot what the hell I was even doing. I forgot how to live in the mean time. I forgot the ability to feel as a human, and in turn the irony is that I carried out gods will so strongly that I started to decide what I thought  his will was and what was right and wrong. Only an alcoholic can sit and depict what she thinks god is trying to say to fit what she wants to hear.
      I need always to remember first that I am human, secondly that I am a very sick human, and thirdly that it is ok to live one way as long as I am not praying another. God expects me to fall inlove with the wrong people, to open the bag of pretzels when I haven't gotten to the register yet, but most of all he expects me to play in traffic because even though I am crazy, he knows that with him I will never get hurt.