This one's different

This is blog is written at a desktop computer, Doogie Howser style. 



Before I get all philosophical and into the deep shit, here’s a random story:



The first time I ran away from home I was two years old. I didn’t actually run away, I wandered off into the woods following my friend Boots, who was our neighbors cat.  I honestly don’t know what kind of relationship I had with my neighbors pet, but I’m guessing I had followed him around before since we were on a first name basis.

My mom was frantic, her 2 year old daughter had just vanished. She drove up and down the street asking anyone in sight if they had seen me. Nobody knew anything. She walks across the street to the neighbors and hears my voice coming from the woods.
“Momma!” I exclaimed, I was excited for her to be in the wilderness with me and “Bootsie!” the magnificent creature bestowed beside me.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“He’s gonna get lost..” I said. 
“Get down here! You scared me to death!”

I was probably twenty minutes away from being the kid on the news who followed a cat into a storm drain. I could have been hero or killed during a very heavy downpour.

The Terrible Two’s they call it.

I also jumped into a six foot deep pool with no flotation device whatsoever and immediately knew how to swim, because I was 100% my own person and possibly a witch as well. 

That much determination and resilience is hard to train out of somebody completely.

“Stubborn as a mule” was a phrase I’d heard a few times, but back then my brain always jumped to Francis the Talking Mule, which was a knock off of Mr. Ed, which in turn just made me think about horses. So it never made sense to me. 
They put peanut butter under his tongue to make it look like he was talking. Don’t worry, I asked right away. 



Was I highly imaginative or was that just a nice way of my 5th grade teacher saying that I probably had ADD..? 
Who cares? 
I made it this far.
Zero storm drains. 



When I started experimenting with medicinal cannabis at the end of 2018 I learned what it’s like to have one thought at a time. Granted, I pondered if I were actually experiencing psychosis and it freaked me out for about an hour.. but it turns out it’s possible to focus on one thing and not five million all at once. Which means:  you can worry about one thing at a time and not EVERYTHING. 
Cue the opera singers:
HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT
Sounds great, right? It truly is, but now you also have this ability to focus and whoa, dude, do you have a lot of work to do. What is all that shit you’ve been carrying around?

Maybe start with what’s bothering you. 
That’ll be fun.
That’s like wandering off into the woods again and hoping you’ll be able to find your way back. 
Sounds spooky.. but you like spooky shit.



It’s incredibly easy to follow your own insecurities down into their rabbit holes, half the time we don’t even know that that’s what we’re doing. 
You will repeat cycles until you start paying  attention. 



“But it hurts!” Yeah, no shit. Everybody hurts, bro, there’s a song about it. Well, there’s probably trillions of songs about it, but I just really wanted to say that. 




How do you get out of these rabbit holes? 
You drink water, you cry a ton, and you fucking swim.
Not everyone is a natural born swimmer like the feline species and myself, so you may have to take lessons, and it may take longer than you expected. 
You’re going be so mad sometimes. 
You’re going to isolate yourself.
And you’re going to going to keep breathing.
You’ll probably make some poor choices and feel bad about it, which is actually a good sign. It means you’re not a sociopath, so you got that going for you already. Accept that badge and keep moving. 
You’ll meet up with everyone else later.



Why on earth would anyone want to do that? Because if  you don’t know who the fuck  you are how is anyone else going to? 
Journey to the center of the earth, bitch.