It hits with a sudden shame,
the realizations of all the people
who have given me relief,
cash in times of need,
a bed when I was homeless,
when I have failed to offer them
even the slightest regard in return
and failed to keep my promises.
My cheeks flush
and names begin to pound in my head,
debts that I owe,
time of my life that
I must offer back,
amends that must be made.
My heart rate goes up
and I feel top heavy.
I stagger to the bedroom
and consider,
this is a road well traveled.
I can go into the shame pit.
Just moments ago
I was so excited
about the possibility
of getting into a new apartment,
starting new ventures,
even pleased as punch
at the simple hot dog I was eating.
I was satisfied in life.
A rare feeling.
I was due to self sabotage.
And so now I contemplate
the nature of the psychic drama,
petting the cat
and accepting that
recovery can mean sitting back
and feeling the feelings
in a controlled way
and asking the questions
that really matter
like “does this thought
help me or hurt me?”
or “does following this path
of self pity lead me towards
where I want to go in life?”
My head’s still buzzing
but my thoughts
aren’t controlling me anymore.
I can choose to slog
my way out of the marshes
but I have to pick a direction
and go!
Then I recall
that my
worst flaw
is that
I for sure
lack action.
We shall see
if I can go
but did you hear
a boot squelch?