Escape from the Quicksand of Stinking Thinking

Be calm. Others have been there,
worked their way out.
You won’t sink far past your midsection.
Breathe deep, you'll float.

All that stuff you want to hold on to,
your comforts, your respectability,
your independence, toss it. It got you here,
won't take you away.
Ditch it, wriggle out of your shoes.
Don't hold on to anything you thought important,
stuff will pull you down like suction cups.
Flailing, wiggling makes the mess liquid
The further you sink, the squishiness eases.
You reach stability as the thick sludge
thickens, something to hold you.
But don't stay there. The bottom
can pull you deeper if you're complacent.
So move! Lie flat on your back on the mess

where you can float. If you decide you can fix it,
stand up, and take over...you'll drown.
Wiggling your legs, though, loosens the quicksand,
allows you to turn over, get on your knees,
and surrender, crawling out of the yuck of your life.
On solid ground keep it so, knowing you got
to the quicksand doing it tour way.
Build a bridge of Recovery over the bog
and find the life of your dreams.