This thing called shame

The shame I feel is a corrosive thing

A red-hot, burning, swallow-me-whole thing,

A crashing over me wave of red nausea thing,

A wish the ground would open up so you won’t look at me thing.

This eaten-alive, run and hide, why am I alive thing,

Been with me for the 37 years of my life thing,

This “you’re so red!”, pit of dread, please not again thing,

Which when in groups I feel so much, a “something’s wrong with me” thing.

The shame I carry is not mine alone, it’s

An intergenerational thing

A mother wound and father wound and I don’t belong here thing,

A struggle to breathe, freeze when seen, I don’t feel safe thing.

The shame hooks into words and deeds

A “not ever good enough” thing,

It’s a lung-burning, heart-hammering, sky-high anxiety thing.

A self-disgusted, ugly, weirdo, grotesque sense of self thing,

A feeling that there’s nothing else when it’s with me thing.

A wanting to be seen but choosing to hide instead thing,

A can’t wrap enough words around it, do you understand me thing,

An inner-child and girl and teen waiting to be saved thing,

A juxtaposed I’ll be alone so I can’t be abandoned thing.

This gnawing sense of worried “will I lose this love?” thing

Is a pervasive stream of self-doubt making me play small thing.

This waiting to be left but please don’t leave me scary thing,

Creates a sense that I don’t know how to do this can you do it for me thing.

So many words to try and speak to this word called shame thing,

This shame-on-shame you’re so pathetic can’t you shut up thing,

This mocking sense expecting contempt “you’re spiteful, selfish” thing

This decades old, you’ve had it so good what the hell is wrong with you thing.

This comparing, competing, unappreciative just give up thing,

This how dare you take up this space you worthless piece of shit thing.

And no it’s not the only thing – there’s love in me too, see?

And hope and wonder and joy and trust, I can fly like a bird, free

But as I talk about this shame, reveal this part of me,

I wonder if you can bear to stay or if you need to flee.

If 20 years of therapy have taught me anything,

It’s that this shame inside me is at best a “take a backseat” thing.

In naming it and voicing it I am taking up space here,

Attempting to unhook myself from doubt, isolation and fear.

False positivity I’ve learned won’t erase the shame in me,

I have to shine a light on it to set my soul free.