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My Recovery and Healing Mainframe.
> life_of_every_party.ps1
> death_of_every_relationship.ps1> recovery.ps1> healing.ps1> love.ps1"If you could kick the person in the pants responsible for most of your trouble, you wouldn’t sit for a month."-Theodore Roosevelt
April 2026 was the best month of my life. Hands down. Church. Tulip fields. Engagement shoots. Dozens of sunsets on the pier. Agate hunting. Breathwork. My first skirt, worn in public. A gratefulness group that cracked something open. 360 videos. Veteran community. Boundaries held. Not a single identified pattern repeated. Not once. I ended the month 838 days sober from alcohol, 115 days clean from everything, and 40 days emotionally sober. And then I swam in the Salish Sea under a full moon with someone special. That’s how April ended. I don’t know how the hell I got so lucky.
I have spent years crawling my way through the darkness. In recent months, I finally began seeing the sun. Now I am out walking in it, literally and figuratively. It is the most wonderful feeling I have ever experienced. I am now living a life full of love, happiness, and joy, because of the painstakingly difficult internal work I have been doing every single day to eliminate my toxic patterns. I am also living this life of emotional freedom, stability, and security because of the sobriety I have chosen. Thank you to everyone who has been walking alongside me on…
I love everyone unconditionally. Including people who have hurt me. Including people who have done unforgivable things. Not because I’m noble. Because I understand that if you strip away every trauma and every adverse thing a person has ever experienced, nobody is actually a bad person. Nobody. Not one single person.
It’s not manic bullshit and you saying that is DARVO bullshit. I’m just fine. I’m not having a mental health crisis. I am better than I have ever been. In my entire life.
Six or seven years ago, three Bellingham Police Department units pulled into a parking lot behind my Jeep and I didn’t even notice them following me. They didn’t take me to jail. They took me to One Central. That psychiatric hospitalization was a single link in a chain of events that stretches back to the big bang and ends, on Easter Sunday 2026, with me sitting in a church crying for reasons I didn’t expect — and finding God in a way I never could have predicted. This is the story of collective consciousness, of how wisdom ripples forward through…
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