Regret-me-not
Don't let the past consume you.
“Je ne regrette rien.”
- Edith Piaf
Someone once asked me if I had any regrets — if I changed any of a million little choices, would I be in a different place today?
Good question, considering the devastating turn my life has taken — all those lost friends, the money, the career, the relationships and even my health.
For most of my adult life, I was a basket of could-haves and wish-I-hadn’ts.
What if I simply declined when first offered a taste from a stranger’s pipe? Or, what if, as a therapist suggested long ago, I faced this burgeoning problem and sought help? What if I was honest from the start?
I used to follow these myriad pathways in my mind. But I always had trouble picturing the final destination. It was clouded by some unknowable shadow.
Crack cocaine didn’t cast that shadow over my life. The shadow came from somewhere else, probably from a long time ago. It may have even been stamped into the blood I was born with. And whatever pathway I might have chosen — whatever different choices I might have made — it would have ended up breaking me anyway. Because it had been left unchecked and unreckoned with for too long.
The shadow had just been biding its time. And crack was as good an opportunity as any to pounce.
But I didn’t think of that while I was a dope fiend. All I could do was take stock of the damage — bemoan the cruelties of addiction — and keep feeding it. Eventually, regret came to seem like a privilege for people who actually wanted to live. As a late-stage addict, it seemed beside the point. Nothing but the final destination mattered.
Then I got an ultrasound for the soul. I became clean. And things started to move in reverse. First, I lost the will to die. Then regret came pouring back in. It was no longer the killing kind. But at first, it was withering. Then, as I made amends, invigorating.
Recovery gained traction, and I started to understand myself better. As the shadow came more into focus — as I saw what had been eating me — it began to retreat. So, too, guilt, despair, even regret.
It’s okay to be sorry about past decisions. Not to be consumed by it.
I think it has something to do with the destination. Sometimes, when you arrive at a good place — a really good place — you don’t stress how you got there so much.
Then you realize there never was a final destination in the first place. We all ride on. We learn from every bump in the road. And constantly renew ourselves along the way.
It's the start of another new year. All I can see from my window is a snow-swept canvas.
Perfect for snow angels and fresh starts.
Today I was driving all over southern Ontario for what turned out to be no particular reason. I was listening to the music from the car radio trying to drown out that stupid voice in my head. As if anything can kill that thing. Anyway, I began thinking about all the drugs and their names along with their effect and how some drugs like “ecstasy” are literally named after the way they make you feel. Then it occurred to me that I don’t know why “crack” has that name or why cocaine doesn’t also have a better name. Obviously its name comes from the plant it’s made from but if we were naming drugs by their effect it seamed to me it should be called “more”! More because there is never enough.
So, there I was driving around thinking about drugs. Then an experiment popped into my head. If you created a comfortable room with an ensuite bathroom. Then added a couple of doors that only lock from the outside and you placed someone inside and told them as long as they never left that room they would have an unlimited supply of tobacco, alcohol and cocaine, do you think anyone would ever leave that room?
I mean at some point they would die! However, would anyone willingly leave of their own accord?
Then I thought of you and I wondered, was that room your life? In which case you not only survived but managed to leave that room!
Congratulations. I’m even more impressed by you than was.
I wish you a very happy and healthy New Year. The struggles of leaving the known life you had and venturing into the new life you have created has been an amazing journey. I watch and commend you for continuing to recover from a world of pain suffering and darkness. Thank you for letting me come along through your writings. With every new blog I read I see the real you unfold. Mom has been waiting for her boy to reappear and become the happy smart loving person she has never forgotten. From the sparkle in her eyes and laughter in her voice I believe she is seeing this happening more and more everyday. Thank you for making her dreams come true. I like to see my friends happy.