An egomaniac with an inferiority complex.

Of all the (many many) saying of twelve-step recovery, this is the one that whacked me most precisely with the two-by-four of “I belong here.”

I am wonderful. I am funny and brilliant and suave and a fine conversationalist. I can hold my own against just about anybody. I can handle whatever life (or my boss) throws at me. I just need, you know, a couple of drinks to get me started, loosen me up, whatever.

I am a piece of shit. Any second now someone is going to tap me on the shoulder and say “what the hell do you think you’re doing and who do you think you’re fooling?” I can’t get out of my own way. Everything I touch turns to ashes. But if I could just get, you know, a couple of drinks, I’d find a way to relax, pull myself together, say something clever, make you like me just a little, survive another day.

So now, without, you know, a couple of drinks to alter me, there are days when I remember that, although I have some fine qualities, I’m not Uberman. And although I have my faults, as long as I think about what’s important and put effort into doing what’s right, I’ve done what I can do to help the people who matter to me recognize my worth. (The convoluted nature of that sentence is entirely the fault of that other AA concept, letting go of the outcome. Which is a topic for another time.)