It's hard to give up a bad habit. Bad relationships, bad emotions, bad behavior patters, drugs, food, whatever, it's all hard to give up.
But why? These things are clearly bad for us. Logic dictates that we should drop them immediately and not look back. But many of us, myself included, cling to these bad habits for dear life.
One of the problems is that this pattern is all you know. It is firmly in your comfort zone, even if the thing makes you uncomfortable. It's the devil you know, vs. the unknown. And many of us shy away from confronting the thing, for fear of moving into the wilderness of the unknown. We tell ourselves we can't, or that we will confront it tomorrow. But we always find a way to put it off.
But the most insidious barrier of them all is this: we must admit we are wrong. We must admit that the weeks, months, years, were all for nought, or worse than nought, actually set us back. We must admit to ourselves and the world that we were dead fucking wrong, and that we have to do better. We must admit that we CAN do better, and that is a dangerous thought.
The knowledge and belief that you can be better, can improve your lot in life, comes with serious consequences. On the one hand, knowing that you can get better carries with it the responsibility to get better. And getting better is hard work. It requires discipline and focus and good old fashioned elbow grease. And it can get us far in life. But this too carries consequences, such as entering yet another new way of life, a new and more exotic wilderness than the one you already found yourself in.
And then there's the flip side--knowing you can do better, yet refusing to do so. This may be the worst option of it all. At least if you are ignorant, you can avoid the knowledge that you are failing. But if you know the way and choose not to walk it, be it due to fear or whatever (it's almost always fear), you will be an empty shell of a human. You will walk around knowing that you are failing life. In other words, you are a dead man walking, waiting to die.
I reject this walking death. I have done it, and I have decided it is not for me. I have chosen life, the hard path, the straight and narrow.
Am I perfect? Hell no, not even close. I still struggle with temptations and vice. I still falter and get lazy. But I choose to soldier on through this life, moving ever forwards.
What am I moving to? That I do not know. But I am moving. And that is enough.