Maybe in the beginning I forgot about abstinence,
forgot I had changed my way of looking at life,
forgot for a moment that I was in recovery.
Those times, though, are long past
and I know when I’m about to take a bite
that’s compulsive, when I’m fed up,
ready to claim the poor-little-me role,
ready to quit momentarily — and it always is,
the intention, that is, the intention to quit
is to quit momentarily, not to chuck it all and run —
when I resolve to rebel, to try my old vices,
to move in the direction I had resolved against,
then it’s a conscious decision. But why?
Because the rebel arises, a little imp within me,
justifying, pouting, excusing, minimizing.
But there are other thoughts to recall,
the good ones, the reasoned ones,
the ones that serve me well.
And this advice rings true, so true I’ll seek to hold it,
to pull it out and polish it up when I lean toward weakness.
I will recall the desperation that got me here,
the reason recovery is so much better than
the road of not recovering. And I will hold on to that
a little longer, for it’s benefitted me so much to hold it
all this time before.