Lost at Sea
By: Timothy Alexander
I have spent many years at sea. When I set out the idea was to show the world that I could handle life..... alone. I was young and vibrant, full of spirit and surety never fully understanding what that big blue body of experience had in store for me, so I shoved off of the sandy beaches in my old rickety schooner. The sea was rough but at a young age I thought I could handle it. The only thing I didn't understand were the long term effects.
I did not fear the storms, in fact, I had become rather fond of impeding disasters. Heartache and mental anguish at an early age calloused my emotions and allowed me to endure a high level of self-destruction. My false sense of bravado whispered lies into my ears daily saying, "You can handle anything that life throws in your direction." But what I failed to realize is that the internal storms that dwell within the mind and heart, are much more fierce than the external.
Over the years my determination for death had become more and more relevant. I yearned for happiness but all I knew was this little boat. I was trapped. Trapped in a factitious world where I believed that everything was going to be alright.
I had mastered the art of wearing masks. I had mastered the art of spinning lies, yet, there was no one around to see, just me and my reflection in those deep blue waters. Week upon week, month after month, year after year I lied to myself as I sailed alone, barely holding my boat together.
I had achieved my goal.
I was experiencing life alone, but when I looked upon the horizon all I could see were the storms that raged in my direction. The sun never seemed to shine. The world was dark and gray and my soul had become the same.
I longed to see the shore. I longed for companionship. A friend to talk to. A sister to share hope with. A mother to smile at me and say how very proud she was of her baby boy.
But I was no longer a boy, I was man, a usurper of misery riding the waves of addiction lost at sea for decades. Hope is all that I had to hold onto. It was a mere wisp of smoke upon the furious winds of tribulation, but it was there, waiting. Hope was my segue to brighter days. A new beginning where the sun would peak around the cottony clouds of Peter's tail and smile it's warm smile upon my skin.
The rains ceased and today the sun shines even in the darkest of moments. I have friends in my life where I no longer feel the need to don a mask. I have found freedom again on the shores of recovery.
