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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
9 months ago I burned every bridge in my life to the ground. I filmed this dance a few weeks ago on the Whatcom Creek bridge with a train crossing behind me the whole time. The post today is about what 224 days of not giving in actually looks like from the inside, and why…
Alone on the bridge over Whatcom Creek at midnight, the relapse happened. Thirty one years of buildup, no warning, nobody there to see it. I am not sorry, and honestly, I am proud of it.
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…
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…