Skeletons in the Closet

I spent so much space and time in a living hell that I can tell you the streets by name. In fact, if I went back it would be an all too familiar setting. Today, the light shines brighter knowing that God plucked me out of that dire and abysmal place. The burden of shame and guilt got so heavy that it felt like carrying a roll on suitcase in an airport with a broken handle. I chose to keep it all stuffed inside and repressed the very actions, beliefs, thoughts, and behaviors that kept me hiding inside a bottle. Then, it no longer was a choice but a necessity. I thought that was the high life, but in actuality, I was a dead man walking. I thought I would die behind the closet door amid all of the skeletons and lies. Just like my mother use to say, “what goes around, comes around”, so I had to expose the lies, open the door, and let the skeletons fall out. We all have them, and to the man who says he doesn’t, I dare say the truth cannot be found in him. I knew him because I see a new man in the mirror every day. The old man that was so beaten down, that I refused to look within to find that I was the source of my own troubles.  Exposure to the unknown is a scary proposition. What’s scarier is looking back realizing that I actuality woke up after passing out on pills and booze night after endless night.  It’s a process, and I had to give myself some time for the smoke to clear. I was ready long before I laid the stuff down; the baggage and the goods. If a man finds someone who admits they have skeletons in their closet as well, then he has found a friend who can help him open his own door and see the truth for who he really is……good day!…b

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