by Michael Plante

I have seen the tide of regret slowly recede at the light of dawn
what remained was a washed-up human being.
This is a place between dejection and optimism
one part of me wants to let go of life
succumb to a conclusion that the world I know was correct
that I was a waste of life.

No tears for my death
“He’s in a better place,” they would say.
“A better place?” I would question.
That would surmise that this world is hell, and I was correct.

No, I do not believe that.
It is not that this place is hell
it would be that I was raised under shitty conditions
and my optimism was sucked out of me by parasites that feed off the dreams of children.
Looking back now all I can say is, “motherfuckers.”

A vise is a means of survival.
Some people hide in their work
some hide in their creativity
some people shoot heroin into their veins
some indulge in excessive sex.
Its all about the escape from the moment and the pain they feel.

My vise was alcohol and narcotics.
My life was a shit-show at a traveling circus
entertaining, humorous at times, pathetic at others.
The more I engaged in addiction the more pain I created.
The more I consumed, the more I was consumed.

And that brings me to the point where the tide of regret has rolled away.
I’ve not much of a past to look at.
Wasted days and wasted nights.
“So why have I not committed suicide?” is the question.
In the final days of addiction it is always the question.

Love?

An obscured term to an addict.
With my optimism sucked right out of me
and my veins clean I ask
“What the fuck do I know about love?”
Not much, really.
I know I want it; I know it was missing from my life.
I thought I was in love once.
I was married once before.
She was a beautiful woman who fell in love with a man in pain
and a vise that held a firm grip.
Mark up another “fuck-up” on my part.

If I could just get past this day
let the new tide roll in
the new tide called atonement
I just might be able to do something with what remains of my life.

The sun sets and I watch as the new darkness arrives.
“you’re not dead yet, give it one more day”
“Is this the voice of reason?” I ask myself.
For an addict optimism is the boot of karma that kicks you in the ass.
“Yea, it’s the voice of reason.”
“Go fuck yourself” is what I really want to say.
Where were you when I needed you?
Instead I enter into the new darkness without a painkiller.

In the dark I shiver.
I cannot go back
I cannot control the future
I am here and in the now
alone
and feeling pain
again.

In darkness visions will arrive
as it did this night.
A clouded mind is cleared
the pain subsides
stars appear and the land of dreams exposed.

Fear grips an addict like the darkness grips the light.
We do not fear what we do not know
we fear what we can become.
Sober.

In my darkness the image of a horse appears
far off in the distance it walks towards me
non threating
nonintrusive.

Serenity is an ease of mind and spirit.
It seeps into my body as the horse stops in front of me.
If the Creator were an animal, it would be a horse.
Such power, strength, and yet contains an essence of peace.

I gently touch the horse’s jaw
my mind becomes so focused I am unaware of anything else.
“Are you serenity?” I ask.
The horse does not speak.
“Yea” I say.
“I know serenity when I see it.”
I wonder how serenity found me.

Together we walk, side by side
under the stars where dreamers sleep.
This is now my world.
I am just a silhouette in the darkness of an old world
heading towards a new life.
I talk to serenity like it understands everything I am saying.
I now comprehend a life of sobriety
The dawn brings new light
and within that light optimism is held.

“Is there a horse of atonement?” I ask.
The horse does not speak.
“Yea,” I say.
The horse can only wink, which it does.

I spend my days with serenity
talking about my past and my hope for the future.
If there is a horse of atonement, then there has to be a horse of forgiveness too!
The two go side by side I would imagine.
Twins?
Maybe.

Upon unknown plains I travel
a new horizon spreads out before me.
Wheat fields so vast it steals away the imagination.
The sun is setting
the wheat sways back and forth by a gentle breeze
in the near distance a woman appears
she is waiting for me.
I feel her vigilance and strength from where I stand
it pounds my heart.
I know love when I see it.

Post Script

If you believe you suffer with addiction there is help available.
If you know someone that you believe suffers with addiction get informed.
There are treatment centers.
There are 12-step based organizations for just about all substance abuse.
There is also help for those who that are impacted by love ones suffering with addiction.
There is help available.
Get Informed.
Get real.

In Canada
Government of Canada Web Page
https://www.canada.ca/en/health-canada/services/substance-use/get-help-with-substance-use.html

United States of America Government’s Web Page
https://www.usa.gov/substance-abuse

Alcoholic’s Anonymous Web Page
Canada and U.S.A.
https://www.aa.org/

Al-Anon Canada
https://al-anon.org/

Don’t become a statistic.
Don’t believe you are incurable.

You are worthy.

May the God of your understanding
bless you in all you do.