When you’re rebuilding everything from the ground up

And you’re choosing not to drink

And there’s no one to distract you

And you can’t concentrate on your favorite shows

And your favorite movies don’t interest you

And music doesn’t do anything for you

And your games don’t bring you somewhere else

And weed puts you in psychosis

And there’s nowhere to go

And there’s also, nowhere to go...

You find yourself where you’ve been running from and sitting with who you’ve been trying to forget

If you choose to, of course.

Choose to fuck around, choose to do the work.

Only you are personally responsible for the choices you make.

But what about a parent continuously choosing not to nourish their body with food because they only have enough for their child?

What about the parent choosing to sacrifice repeatedly for their family?

What about the child choosing to sacrifice repeatedly for their family?

Those aren’t choices of personal gain

They come from compassion

They come from love

The same way the choices for yourself should be, too.

I used to think, “I had no choice but to get my act together” and “I have no choices left to make except good choices.”

But I only learned how important choices are for myself when I felt like I had none left to make.

I did have choices.

I could have picked up a bottle.

I could have picked up a razor.

I could have been risky.

I chose not to.

I chose to sit where I was running from with who I was trying to forget.

I chose myself.