Playing God

If I look up the word “Resent” it turns out the Latin word “Sentir” means “To feel” , and when I put a “Re” in front of any word, it means “Again” , so the word resent means “To feel again”.

Once someone wrongs me in some way I usually feel some sort of negative response. If I am on “Top of my game” it just rolls off me like water off a ducks back. But then after a while, after I have reviewed in my mind what happened – and have felt the anger or anxiety again, I shift to the next step, which is resentment.

I’m feeling it again even though it isn’t really happening again. If my guard is down, and as a non-saint this happens frequently, the first little twinge of annoyance, anger or frustration gets the “Playback” in my head, I feel it again - and it is a resentment. A fatal condition for an alcoholic.

Even worse, as I playback the real or imagined harm done to me in my head, I become less and less involved in the incident and the OTHER guy person becomes guiltier and guiltier. Now it is easy for me to see that a resentment is a JUDGEMENT TOO! I am judging who’s good and who’s evil just like a God might do. I am “Playing God”. In my mind, I AM GOD. And there can be no god in my life while I am He.

Sometimes though I can let an incident go without moving into resentment, but as a self-centered alcoholic, that can be difficult since drunks like to keep score of these things so bring it back up later and maybe get even.

So this is why my resentment list is so long. I had been operating in this fashion for 40 years, and if these type of little incidents happening in my life day in and day out for 40 years, there is no way my resentment list could be anything but a LOOONG LIST.

By the way can you imagine how worn out my body is getting – what with all this reenacting of an event over and over that isn’t even happening anymore. My body is producing adrenalin, my muscles are tensing – I am preparing for “flight or fight” and all I am doing is driving down the road in my car. It’s no wonder so many of us get old before our time. Out bodies are worn out like overused door hinges. You old haggard folks – aging poorly – might know what I am talking about. If you are honest. You are dying.

Peace,

Danny S