49206C6F766520796F752E
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
Tag: bellingham washington
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Liminality on the first day of August. The farmers market, an old friend, a hug that felt like glitter, a painting that looks like my insides, a poster of suffering hitting the curb, Bigfoot, a fellow multiple exposure freak, climbing shoes and chalk, mountain bikes, ice cream, and a dance nobody saw except the 360…
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I almost walked past a footpath that changed my whole month. Same beach, same stairs, same everything, until one small path I’d never noticed dropped me into a ravine I didn’t know existed. Turns out the dead end had the gold at the bottom of it the whole time, and so did the rest of…
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Farmers market cherries, a hug and sweet smiles from a sparkling ray of sunshine, a skirt that won in La Conner, and a twenty foot drop I didn’t fall into at Clayton Beach. A silly, fearless, unmasked 201st day of sobriety, and I am the captain of it.
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Two hundred days completely sober from every chemical, gotten in the hardest chapter of my life. Grief lodge, amends without asking forgiveness, being stalked and labeled by people I once trusted and loved, months of nervous system hell, a five year no contact order finally expiring, the manifesto that guided me, a peer support circle…
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I’ve been performing again, not for other people this time, but for myself. Selfies, smiles, hand hearts, all real, all covering a grief I haven’t let myself feel. The mask is off.