This battle of wills...

This battle of wills, is it ever over? Maybe when the doctor says..."Time of death..." I have heard that a lot in the ER. Busting your ass for an hour; Blood, sweat and snot flying every where; syringes, gauze, tape, electrodes, defib pads all over the floor trying to save a life that's probably all ready gone. Alcohol/Meth overdose. After 50 minutes of CPR and squeezing an Ambu bag, injecting every emergency cardiac drug known to man, the MD is still silent. I want to hit him. "Call it!" I say to myself, stealing angry glances at the doctor. That God playing SOB. It's over. I go home and crawl into a bottle of whiskey. I have lived scenes like this many times.

Thy will, not mine, be done. So it is said, let it be written, and it is. So why then do people like me want to run our own lives? I want to arrange the stage with players and props the way I see fit. I want my play to be the biggest box office hit in the history of modern cinema. It never works, even when I think it does...Or that I did it. I made it happen. I have come to discover that I have little to do with anything. I am not in charge like I thought I was. So much of my life has been a result of my distorted thinking and resulting conduct. The wreckage has been of my own making. Today, I will let my higher power drive for a while. My hands hurt from holding onto the steering wheel the way I have...