Here I am again, struggling to make sense of things. Digging for the root of the problem. Trying to live in the now. I've had to make some tough decisions lately and it is hard to do that alone. No matter where you go, you have to take yourself with you. Do you ever get sick of yourself? Sometimes I feel like Tom Hanks' character did in "Cast Away". If I start talking to a ball, though, intervene, OK?
My therapist left me with this poem today. I fluctuate between Chapters 2 and 3.
Chapter I
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost, I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter II
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
Chapter III
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in, it's a habit, but,
my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
Chapter IV
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
Chapter V
I walk down another street.
-Portia Nelson
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