I told my roommate P I'm bipolar. We and two other roommates went to an NA meeting, and it was great. On the way back in the car P mentioned Sublime. I said Bradley was an addict, that he died on heroin. P said "because he's a maniac" like a scoff. I was angry. I wanted to react, and cut him down a little. OK, a lot. But that's not practicing recovery. I took a deep breath, and I felt the wind all over me. God gave me a hug, and I closed my eyes and felt peace. I let go of anger for a brief moment. I felt calm, and could breathe deep and soft. And I felt this pang that made me want to cry. I felt sad. P's my friend, at least I consider him to be, and he judged me with that remark, he put me down indirectly.

Where was I at fault?

A few days ago I ran my mouth about how people in power are easily corrupted, and implied strongly that politicians aren't in it to help us. That some may be at first, but eventually most fall under the sway of money and power. I spoke with tangible contempt.

P wants to be a high level politician.

Oops. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I'm going to say I'm sorry.