The enemy within.

It was back in 2002. I had become aware that someone was trying to kill me. It was scary because they knew my every move. No matter what I did it became clear to me that I was flirting with disaster. Someone had it in for me in a big way and they weren’t going to stop till they had destroyed me.

I hired a private investigator and asked him to figure out who was ruining my professional and social life. Weeks passed by before he contacted me to arrange a meet.

He arrived at the appointed time and said he knew who was gunning for me and he could produce him on a moments notice. He held a 8×10 manila envelope and proffered it to me. He warned me that before I opened it I should know it would be unpleasant when the culprit was revealed.

I grabbed the envelope and tore it open hastily. I was eager to see who cared enough to ruin me. There were several photos to view. But clearly the investigator was being amusing or stupid for all the photos were of me. Me at the office and at bars and around town.

I looked at him with narrowed eyes. What was this all about.

He said his investigation was thorough and correct. He then went into a discourse on what he observed and analyzed. He explained how he had to engage some mental health experts to assist in his conclusions. He handed me another envelope with a report by a psychologist who had reviewed the evidence. It said I exhibited signs of a narcissistic personality with depression and ADD. It asserted I was perpetually sabotaging my life by my choices of friends, work, and women.

I sat down and began to read slowly and carefully. The evidence was compelling. I realized that I was reading the truth but that the truth had always escaped my detection. No one can victimize me more thoroughly than me. This was a killer who knew my every move and every thought and feeling. This was an enemy I could never defeat with the weapons I had. I needed something more. I realized that  I was a sitting target, in the cross-hairs of my bad choices to drink, drug and let my self-will run riot.  Maybe someday I will write in detail about the all the ways I was destroying me.

For the next 5 years I wavered between wanting me to make a clean shot to my head and end it, and cleaning up the remnants of my life. I took a geographical cure and moved to Arizona. Within months I found that my self had followed me, got access to my wallet and binged on drugs and alcohol. I planned that bullet to the head but before I could execute my plan, I found a space where my nemesis was disarmed.

Something was about to change.

More will be revealed.