It is plain that a life which includes deep resentment
leads only to futility and unhappiness.
To the precise extent that we permit these,
do we squander the hours
that might have been worth while.
But with the alcoholic,
whose hope is the maintenance and growth
of a spiritual experience,
this business of resentment is infinitely grave.
We found that it is fatal.
For when harboring such feelings
we shut ourselves off from the sunlight of the Spirit.
The insanity of alcohol returns and we drink again.
And with us, to drink is to die.
If we were to live, we had to be free of anger.
The grouch and the brainstorm were not for us.
They may be the dubious luxury of normal men,
but for alcoholics these things are poison.
Resentment is like acid,
eating away at the vessel in which it is stored.
H A L T = Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired.
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