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Alex B

Alex B

Divinity’s Death

Divinity died in early September of this year, from acute drug and alcohol poisoning. I love her and will always love her, so be at peace my love, with sunlight on your wings, It's in my heart where my sweet angel sings. Every textbook on the disease of alcoholism states with certainty that in the absence of recovery there are only three possible outcomes: mental institution, imprisonment or death. So if you are intimately involved with an alcoholic you know what to look forward to. I did not believe it but I learned the hard way that it was true. My grief is unbearable but I have no choice but to bear it. For the past six weeks I have devoted my time to writing poetry in her memory. The poem I have included addresses the issue of survivor's guilt. This guilt - irrational as it is - nags at my soul as if it emanated from one of the witches in "Macbeth." Because the suffering of emptiness Is not unlike the state of dead desire, My hope is to relax in peaceful rest In order to avoid the guilty fire. Survivor’s guilt is careful to insure That each debt is repaid in triplicate, Once for itself and then for the allure To make the debt  twice disproportionate. So death is always fair to those who’ve died; To those who live it’s quite a different thing, To know that in your heart you really tried To do what’s right but still you’re wondering If only I had done or not done that, You’d be alive and I’d be sitting fat.
admin
27/10/2021
Alex B

Introduction

"I hate Alcoholism. It truly is the devil's masterpiece - There is no disease more insidious, and more destructive to the victim's body, mind and spirit, than Alcoholism. Over the ages it has destroyed the lives of literally billions of people, including both the alcoholic himself or herself, and those unfortunate souls who in one way or another are connected to the Alcoholic, like myself. Divinity and I dated for close to five years. There were good times for a year, due to court-ordered sobriety, whereby, as a result of DUI's, she was forced to take daily breath analysis tests and wear an ankle bracelet to monitor her whereabouts. When she returned to drinking mode and cocaine use, there were still some good times, but the following words describe the preponderance of the not so good times: hell, horror, ugliness, evil, insanity, violence, disease, hatred, sorrow, degradation, humiliation, hospitalization, lying, delusion, criminality, filth, police intervention, delusion, fear, anger, tragedy, frustration, betrayal, cognitive impairment, brain damage, and much more, but you get the idea. Alcoholism is the only condition I know of that is more powerful than love. A person can do everything in his or her power to show unconditional love for the alcoholic, sometimes even begging for her to enter treatment, but alcohol and drugs will always be number one in her life, and the one who loves the alcoholic ends up the rejected suitor. More often than not, the alcoholic dies in the gutter, metaphorically or actually, in filth and mental derangement, incapable of giving or receiving any love. I could have left her at any time, and many times I tried, but I always kept crawling back. In later posts I will enumerate the reasons for this subjugation. Being of a descriptive nature, I will also describe specific incidents - containing loads of details - which occurred during these five years. They are not very pretty but they need to be described to understand the future if you are just at the beginning.
Alex B
01/09/2021