Fell Into Hole Got Out Again Sddictoon Poem
The Sidewalk, The Pigsty and The Insanity
The Sidewalk, The Pigsty, and the Insanity
Recently I sent out an electronic mail to announce an up coming Ann Arbor Women's Grouping upshot. The email was lopsided because the right side bar had a bunch of empty space so I decided to find a verse form to make full that infinite. I googled "poems nigh addiction" and the poem At that place's a Hole in My Sidewalk by Portia Nelson popped upward.
"Perfect!", I thought, "What a beautiful metaphor for habit." If you lot missed it in the e-mail, hither it is again:
In that location's a Pigsty in My Sidewalk: An Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
By Portia Nelson
Chapter Ane
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 fashion out.
Affiliate Two
I walk down the street.
At that place is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend that I don't run into it.
I autumn in once more.
I tin't believe I am in this same place.
Simply, it isn't my fault.
Information technology however takes a long time to get out.
Chapter Iii
I walk downward the aforementioned street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I meet it is there.
I still autumn in … it's a habit … simply, my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
Chapter Four
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
Chapter 5
I walk down another street.
Another Version..
It was suggested past an A2WG lath fellow member that I put the poem in a blog postal service. So I revisited the poem and really read it this fourth dimension. I idea, if I were to write the aforementioned sort of poem, would it be that simple? Was my journey toward recovery like that? And so I decided to write my own version of Portia's poem. I'm no poet, and so it'south non really a poem, in the true sense of the word, but I did my best.
Chapter One
I walk down the street.
The street is amazing!
I love the street.
I dance and express mirth in the street.
Where has this street been my whole life?
There is a pocket-size pigsty in the sidewalk,
I fall in…but I don't intendance.
Walking downwards the street was worth it.
I go out of the hole (with help from my family).
I tin can't wait to walk downwardly the street again.
Chapter Ii
I walk down the street.
The street is still a lot of fun.
The hole in the sidewalk has gotten deeper.
I autumn in once again.
This fourth dimension it'southward harder to get out… But I still don't care
I still dearest the street.
Chapter 3
I walk downward the same street.
It doesn't feel the aforementioned. I'm non getting the same outcome,
It's not as fun.
I autumn in the even deeper hole in the sidewalk.
It'southward getting harder to get out
Affiliate 4
I obsess about the street when I'm non walking down it.
I'm in denial about the pigsty,
So I walk down the street once more.
The street is empty, common cold and nighttime.
The hole is an endless black pit.
I'm filled with despair.
I can't seem to get out of the hole this time.
I cry out for aid.
The loving manus of God gentle pulls me from the pigsty.
Chapter V
I obsess about the street twenty-four hours and night.
I attend Pigsty's Bearding.
I desire to walk down the street because this time I call back it will exist different,
Perhaps the pigsty won't be there.
My hole-aholic friends guide me toward some other street.
Chapter Six
I work the 12 steps of Pigsty'due south Bearding.
My Higher Power removes my obsession to walk down the wrong street.
My new street is paved with gold.
I am happy, joyous, and costless.
I no longer want to walk down the former street.
Chapter Seven
I assist other hole-aholics.
I guide them toward another street.
While I was in "the hole" I blamed others, justified, rationalized and defended my correct to walk downwards the same street. While in the hole I was full of cocky-pity, terror, bewilderment, frustration and despair. I walked down that cold dark street of hell hoping every time it would be similar the street of the old days, but it wasn't. Those days were gone only I couldn't seem to accept that. Over and over and over and over (ad infinitum)… I sought my old street. I mourned information technology's loss. I walked down the same street and fell in the same pigsty for 20 years until my Higher Power and my friends intervened.
"Insanity: doing the aforementioned thing over and again and expecting dissimilar results."
-Albert Einstein
In Portia's poem she learns from her mistakes and finally has the power to go out of the hole and walk down a unlike street. When it comes to my alcoholism I am incapable of learning from my mistakes because I lacked wholeness of mind. If my mind were a pie, there was a piece missing where rational thoughts around alcohol were concerned. I was completely powerless to help myself. God knows I tried.
I can't count the number of times I didn't desire to beverage but I drank anyway. I know what complete and utter powerlessness feels like. If you are in recovery from addition, you know also. If y'all are still in the sick cycle of addiction, please know, yous don't take to live like that. Find a local *AA meeting, get involved with a group of women in recovery. You lot tin can exist empowered once once again.
"Nosotros have recovered, and have been given the power to help others."
*Alcoholics Anonymous pg. 132
What does your poem look like?
Peace, Love & Sobriety
-50
L. 
chooses to remain anonymous, not because she'south ashamed of being in recovery, simply because her ego loves recognition and she doesn't want to feed her ego.
*A2WG is not affiliated with AA or any other arrangement
Source: https://a2womensgroup.org/the-sidewalk-the-hole-and-the-insanity/
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