I am so frustrated with you. I need to breathe; I cannot breathe when I'm flat on my back. I cannot breathe well without support under my arms when I'm sitting up. You have to learn how to do my changing routine without prompting from me. I beg you to help me to breathe. I do not hate you and I do not think you are an asshole. I just cannot bear up under the stress of fighting for air.
Occasionally, we are seized with a rebellion so sickening that we simply won't pray. When these things happen we must not think too ill of ourselves. We should simply resume prayer as soon as we can, doing what we know to be good for us. -- TWELVE STEPS AND TWELVE TRADITIONS, page 105 Gee, I could have saved myself years of self-reproach by taking it easy on myself. "Try" as I might, I never could make prayer, in the traditional sense, a daily occurrence for stretches longer than a month. I had good intentions but inevitably, I'd be running late and forget. Or worse, I'd get a big, fat bout of attitude about not getting my wishes (the permanent position at the Gates Foundation, being fired from my last job when my health deteriorated, the cancellation of my Panama Canal cruise, and the various abandonments I experienced following my ALS diagnosis) and off I'd go, cursing my Higher Power, turning my back, isolating, and wishing I were dead (actually, I wa...
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