When winter is almost at an end it becomes beautiful; a theoretical thing, which though it may hurt you, can not hurt you for long, therefore is safely appreciated by mere mortals. You don't have to beg for G-d's own protection, time has become a friend and winter only a show. I will soon wake from this chilling fright, will in fact thaw from it in short order and needn’t fret though chilblains still catch out me now and then. I can stand at the window admiring frost and ice formed lace; intricate patterns whose beauty will soon be lost to me, put away in favor of crocus and daffodil. The terrible loveliness of soon to pass trauma is not lost on my hyper-vigilance I grasp it I just can’t seem to let it rest.
Unseat disreputable ideas
Wanting to be alive is not as important
As wanting to do right. Said my sponsor.
I don't want to be here, I half blurted, half sobbed.
I know came the reply.
Many of us come in not wanting to live
But sobriety is about living
And you want to be sober said my sponsor
Yes but I don't want to live.
This moment, this moment you don't want to live
But you still want to be sober
And you still want to do right
And that is what you will do.
You will pick up the tools
As you have done so often
And you will try everything suggested.
Then you'll see how you feel tomorrow.
What if it doesn't go away?
You'll keep it up
And see how you feel the next day.
What if I never feel better?
When have you ever had anything