The Devil's Due.

This is so odd. I don't even know how it came to pass. I think it will end badly. This kind of thing always ends badly. It has in the past. It is not a pleasant thing, this thing of mine. That it has lasted this long is bad enough, that I have taken few concrete steps to make it right is a catastrophe in the making. What do I do with this thing? It burns a hole in my immortal soul.

It has been decades - I can't believe it has been decades - since this thing wormed its way into my life. I allowed it to do so. In my hubris, like Icarus and his wings held together with flax, I believed that I could control it, temper its effects. Now all I see is the impending doom, staring in horror at the shambles that are my considerable ego and pride. No amount of rationalisation and blame-shifting can hide the truth: I created this monster and it is now set to consume me, leaving nothing behind, not even a pale shadow of my former self. Doom stares me in the face.

How do I get out of this thing? How do I shift my priorities so that it is no longer a factor of importance? Perhaps the new thing is the answer. Perhaps the new found humility is the key. Perhaps this confession is the catharsis that will cauterise the hubris that has brought me to this ignoble place. Do not scoff, my friend, for while I may be holding onto this tiger by its tail, you are surely battling demons of your own. It is the nature of man. It is the burden we take on when we imagine that the rule sthe gods have made were made for someone else, someone lesser than you.

Before you can get out of a hole, you must stop digging. Likewise, before you can solve a problem, your problem, the problem, you must admit that there is a problem, that you have a problem. I have a problem. It is not insurmountable, but it will be the devil to make it go away. Now that I have admitted my acute predicament comes the hard part. Admitting it to you. Admitting it to them.

If I make this admission in public, do you not see the risks that I run? I can see them, clear as the day is bright. Risks that are not as great as the disaster that awaits me, but risks nonetheless. They will whisper behind my back, and despite confidence in my diffidence, I fear that the snide sniping will consume my mind and render me useless to confront this monster. Can I ignore the sniggering? Can I?

Doubt. That is the real monster. It insidiously occupies every lobe in my brain. It sits heavily on my mind, whispering its dispiriting message over and over. It is the devil. It is Beelezebub made metaphorically manifest. It can be conquered, so I am told. It has been done before. I have done it before. Did I not do that recently when I took up this other new thing? Yes I did. I held myself erect. I stood tall, all five feet-something of me. And it paid out in spades. I conquered doubt the, so I can conquer it now.

Discipline. That's how I did it. Discipline in all respects. What I said, what I heard, what I did. Discipline is the weapon that I least deploy. It has eluded my feeble mind for decades when it comes to this thing. All I need is three days. Seventy two hours. Three days and peace of mind. Seventy two hours and a wholesome alternative. I have done it before. I will do it again. I shall prevail. This is not hubris, overweening pride. This is commitment. (Until the devil comes calling for his due.)