Secret Letter

After I moved to Humbodt, California I thought I could put it all behind me: The rape, almost being abducted by Human Sex Traffickers, having a miscarriage, and even Od-ing, but things just gradually started to get worse for me. I was having as some poetically articulate doctors might call it, a psychotic episode. An episode so unfortunate that it had me questioning everything about myself as the months in Humboldt followed.

June 2022

It was the beginning of summer 2022 and I was working at Samuel, Son, and Company when my close friend and I made plans for me to fly out to see her for my birthday. It was a warm, sunny day for me and a cool, somewhat relaxed day for her as I exited the terminal into a sea of eagerly awaiting friends and family members who were there to greet their loved ones at baggage claim. It was a small airport, maybe my most favorite of all airports I have ever flown into and out of.

At this point in time, I wasn't too concerned about being able to hear my super secret core collective whispering in my ear. But between April 2020 and June 2022, it was a staple in my everyday life as I caught myself trying to get off and detox away from weed personally. It was a juggle, but it was tameable. I kept thinking to myself every morning before getting up and every night before going back to sleep.

But, going to Humboldt, long game wasn't nearly as damaging as going there short-term, and what I learned about myself after Humboldt would be very important as the years past prior to moving there and moving back.

I decided one joint wasn't going to hurt me.

Yeah, I was wrong. Of course, I was wrong, I was so far into denial I was practically swimming up to the Egyptian palace Garden where Moses was found in a basket. It was a struggle, and at the time, I really wasn't thinking about how important one joint turning into four joints would be for the unrest I had bestowed on my shoulders in Loki's name a year and a half prior to the events that unfolded around me. But here we are and I'm still not 100% off this stuff clean.

And maybe that's what has me writing about this now at almost midnight on a friday night, I have guilt surrounding just that as I work through what I can only describe as an itch to other people who may have struggled with addiction or dependence on such a simplistic drug such as weed.

In Humboldt, weed is everywhere. And in 2018, I would have been more than excited about living just a minute away from a dispencary. But that wasn't until August of 2022 and by August, I was pretty much set and ready to move on with everything that had happened in my life that led me to such a beautiful place off the coast of California.

I'm what people call a cautionary tale as I braced the impact of a fall I wasn't prepared to experience, I recall a conversation I had had with Loki, my workbook deity, as I was preparing my wants and needs for this recovery.

I want to succeed, I really do. But the weight of what I was asking myself to do had become such a stretch my short time I was living there, that I couldn't help but let go in the end.

It was April 2023 when I decided it was time to tap out and move home.

I was laying in the artistic mess I had created for myself: Canvases sprawled throughout the room, a heating blanket with a giant hole in the dead center of it - from one careless curious state where I decided art with fire was perfectly safe inside of my bedroom in my apartment, and cat stuff and clothes just everywhere that I could think to put it so it's visible but not in the way. I had also put a hole in the plaster behind my head one night because I was thrashing and pleading in anger in the dead of night. Wondering how I could have possibly gotten to this point, I think about my childhood and the workbook I had with Lucifer around the time Loki's name had first been brought up, years before any of this transpired.

In a sick and deadpan twisted turn of events, I had also done this to Gabriel and Michael, respectively, both in Elementary School and again in High school. I had made such a mess as a child recovering from a head wound and drug affiliated with such an affliction that in that moment when I wasn't thinking about it or anything because I was too stoned to sing, it clicked that I was a serious threat to my forever.

I hadn't thought it much before I had a stroke in 2021 or even more so again in 2023, but in that moment as I was lying there muttering to myself in anger, I knew it was just time to go, that nothing was more important than my comfort and safety, and in that moment I was niether comfortable or safe. And by that weekend, I was homeward bound and on my way to recovering, which was a long and grueling struggle from start to now.