From ‘nice guy’ to ‘asshole’: A Pissing Match – redux

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As I’ve said (too often) in this overlong series, this pissing match with my maker has its beginnings in a party and a smoke-filled room.

First, the party. It was at that party that I died the first time – OD-ing on a combo of alcohol, too many cigarettes, a nicotine patch, and quite a lot of fear. I sat in my bedroom – party shut out behind a closed-door – and I waited to die. I’d been finding myself barraged for weeks by thoughts beyond my understanding or control. I now know, of course, that I was experiencing a spiritual and mental health crisis. I begged God to help – promising Him that I’d recommit my life to Him – beginning by getting off the stupid cigarettes – and then I promised other things. While experiencing severe chest pain and the fear of the bizarre thoughts which plagued me I began to have inklings of other thoughts – I took these interconnected ideas as an evolving vision of what was in store for me. I chased these thoughts like a man possessed….

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