Cosmic Washing Machine

I feel sadness,                                    
and anger
but mostly
not sure what
I am feeling.
 
I love comedy
because laughter feels
better than sadness,
anger or nothing-ness.
 
My stomach is 
a washing machine,
a spinning low
grade shakiness of
fear and shame.
 
I do not talk
about my feelings,
my English and
German heritage say
“chin up.”
 
When people speak
of feelings, I
slowly slink away
believing  “the weak”
only speak of
such things.
 
I choose to
be a martyr
of not feeling
feelings, my religious
faith is enough
for me to
get by.  Right?
 
Hitting the wall
at age 40,
in the rabbit
hole going deeper,
I crawl finally
asking for help.
 
I learn to process
feelings and figure
out what my
inner emotional barometer
is telling me,
and the healthy
action steps to
be taken.
 
The 39 years of
stuffed feelings pulled
out of the freezer
take a year
to thaw, and
I sit with
withdrawl pain not
running or medicating
with alcohol, drugs,
food, workaholism,
dating,  sex or
focusing on the
problems of others.
 
The Cosmic Washing
Machine of Emotions
is placed on the
curbside and picked
up by the
township of Sanity.
 
I am grateful
for the wisdom
and compass guidance
provided by emotions
and precious intuition.
Reasonable happiness abides.
The shakiness of
fear and shame
now faced head
on and "let go."