Part of my program of recovery from addiction is to take an inventory of myself on a daily basis. I look at my day and try to recognize where I have behaved appropriately and where I have behaved poorly. As I work to accept these things about myself, I also do my best to change those behaviors that may have caused conflict or discomfort in my life or in the lives of others. On occasion, I will take a larger look at my life and inventory a specific thing that has been bothering me. I must do this in order to continue to recover.

The stark fact of my life is that anything that takes my focus away from doing God’s will needs to be removed. If I allow a resentment to fester or if I continue to treat others with anything other than love and acceptance, I am creating an opening for self-centeredness and self-pity to enter. Once those things enter, my recovery is precarious – and today, that is not okay with me. It isn’t easy to look at myself and recognize the not-so-pretty things about who I am, but it is essential to my well-being to do that. It is also essential that I take those things to God and ask Him to remove them from me.

While these inventories to appraise my behavior are important, I do tend to go overboard at times. I will take myself to a place where simply making a mistake is a mortal sin. (Have you yet noticed my tendency to dramatize?) I might have done something as human as forgetting to invite a friend to a gathering, but the voice inside my head tells me that I was manipulative in putting the invitation list together. Or, maybe I spent time vegging out to watch a favorite television show instead of getting ahead of my studies simply because I was physically tired and unable to concentrate; and the voice in my head tells me my procrastination is going to be the end of me.

This all-or-nothing, black-or-white, end-of-the-world attitude is merely a side effect of the disease of addiction. When it pops up, I definitely need to take note of it; but I don’t need to entertain it. In fact, when I do entertain it, I put myself in a vulnerable place. When I listen to the voice that tells me my basic humanness is a character defect, I am walking on dangerous ground. Think about it, if I believe I am one big defect walking around on two legs, then I must believe that God’s work is defective. If I believe God’s work is defective, how much longer am I going to be willing to carry out His will for me? If I’m not willing to carry out God’s will for me, how much longer will I be able to stay clean and sober and of good use to Him and my fellows? It is a frightening – and fast – progression. This is why it is important that I share my inventory work with a trustful person. I need feedback about my defects of character from someone who loves me enough to be honest about what she sees – the bad and the good. Sometimes it is difficult to hear what I might need to change, and sometimes it is refreshing to hear that I simply made a mistake – which doesn’t mean I am a mistake.

All of these thoughts started to swirl around as I sat with a good friend yesterday to review some of the work I have been doing lately to inventory myself. During our discussion, she said something that made me stop in my tracks: “Being human is not a character defect.” Whoa Nelly! What a great way to stop myself the next time I start over-analyzing. Thank you, my friend.

Maybe today is the day you need to hear that “being human is not a character defect.”