ttps://anchor.fm/citizensamurai

https://open.spotify.com/show/3WCa7r8Tl2bhhOX2O3Xy9z

An excerpt of this chapter appears here with the audiobook link - the full chapter can be read on my account here at Royal Road.

That was the day I left the apartment for good.

The moment it became clear I'd put faith and trust in someone who obstructed my development? Prevented me from connecting crucial dots? I didn't need a self-help book with a sternly worded title to understand I was living with a fucking bum and it was time to execute a remedy.

I delayed the arrival of that hard truth using all the tools in my child-of-divorce skillset.

A criminal talent for twisting the truth, honed through a lifetime of master classes taught by my mother. A carnival barker's smiling knack for sensational promises and ripoff marketing inherited from Dad.

That was a constant and demanding hustle. Dressing up an old act with a fresh wrapper, new lighting and selling myself another season ticket to the same shitty show. Pretending the years I spent waiting for childish hopes to harden into something real weren't squandered, but wisely invested.

If you can lie to yourself and make it stick? That's how you know you've earned your black belt in bullshit.

Nothing is more effective at blurring or burying the borders of the real, authentic You than feeling responsible for someone who gives back like a black hole. That's the power of denial. It creeps up on your critical thinking, gets it in a cozy Stockholm headlock and chokes reason out cold.

Escaping that delusion was like surviving a deadly disease. Instead of walking into the white light I woke the fuck up, immunized against further infection. After that it was impossible to justify the cost. I'm talking about the cost of me, spent day after day in big sums and small change.

Sound familiar? Not sure?

Then you better run the numbers. Make an honest evaluation.