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Let’s Talk about Psilocybin

Let’s take a moment to talk about psilocybin. Magic mushrooms.

While cannabis is my only regular substance of choice, I do dose mushrooms every few months as a therapeutic activity, something I’ve embraced for the last year and a half.

Psilocybin is being used increasingly as a tool for therapy, becoming a proven method for helping to manage addiction, depression, and a host of other mental health disorders.

Personally, I like the great deal of introspection that I get when using psilocybin. It helps me access parts of my psyche that are otherwise closed off. It allows me to surface parts of myself that I know need work. It brings up memories that I had forgotten, but remain a part of who I am. It allows you to see the details and intricacies of the world in ways you can’t see when not under the influence.

I am a BIG proponent of psilocybin and mark my words, you’re going to start hearing a lot more about the magic of the mushroom. If anyone has any questions about this wonder of the universe, I’m your girl.

Further Reading:

https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-news/psilocybin-legal-therapy-mdma-753946/?fbclid=IwAR2vtvaZ_xy-On95mlSSwA3gBI3XEcuyLjv8FKoG3k-FpMQ-6zpiw2dWRzY

https://www.healthline.com/health-news/benefits-of-medical-mushrooms?fbclid=IwAR1Y2NFBg0bXjYmu4Tafb3zkxpuAUPumBIUYivP2YsZUQlz8yhgeFvk-VzQ#The-state-of-psilocybin-research-

https://www.thisisinsider.com/magic-mushrooms-depression-treatment-ssri-alternative-2019-2?fbclid=IwAR2ZjkDc-WqZlz0gGE7NnbO05LPdApe860S2ClwwvVnuDc7TjqG0swcpy-o

I Died in Costa Rica

As I move towards positive mental health, and build my life back in Canada and here in BC, my Mom reminded me of something really important: I was literally dying in Costa Rica.
 
I don’t know if you know what it feels like to experience the loss of your own soul. It’s losing the people, structures, support systems that keep you whole. It’s having parts of yourself so overshadowed by someone else, that you literally begin to forget who you are.
 
I cried every day in Costa Rica for the last 6 months I was there. The depression and sheer emptiness was something I’d never felt before. I was not keeping the best company (save for a few saviors, and you know who you are), and that led to extreme loneliness I’d never felt before.
 
The expat life may look “shiny”, and I probably made it look that way in hindsight, but in actuality, the 2 years I spent in Costa Rica were 2 of the unhappiest years of my life. You can only go to the beach so much, eat exquisite food so much, watch so many sunsets before you learn how shallow of a life expat life can be.
 
I’m now back in the “land of the living” and just by virtue of being in my own country, I feel whole again. I’m surrounded by the necessary supports that weren’t there in Costa Rica. I’m balanced. I’ve regained the parts of myself that had been stolen from me, and I feel more “me” and more mentally healthy than I have in years.
 
This is all just to say that there is a big gap between what you see, what is really going on. While I have no regrets, I’m glad that chapter of my life is over. Because this chapter is undoubtedly the best one yet.

Repost: Galentine’s Day 2015

This is a repost from Feburary 2017. I am currently going through a divorce with the man I was to marry in this story, but I will still forever love our love story… especially since it began with love for myself and ended there as well.

“Galentine’s” Day – February 13, 2015

2 years ago today, I had come to a place where I was happy to be single, live my life that way, and had just generally gotten used to the notion that love was something to be enjoyed by other people.

It was a cold, snowy, February 13, and me and my main girl Courtney were ready for “Galentines Day”, a day where just the two of us would get all boozed up and spend a night dancing downtown having a good time in light of our annoyance over the imminent “love holiday” of Valentine’s Day.

As the vodka drinks in our systems accumulated, so did the snow, and our plans to go downtown were squashed as we realized that we, and our chosen outfits and shoes, wouldn’t stand a chance in the elements.

Eager to still go out and have a good time, we settled on visiting the “cougar bar” the Wortley Roadhouse, where we proceeded to have one of the best nights we had out together. Drinks were being slung everywhere we turned, we were meeting all sorts of interesting characters, and best of all, we cut it up on the dancefloor like I hadn’t in years. By all accounts, I was having the time of my life, enjoying my life, enjoying my best friend, and pretty much just “doing me”.

During a break from our serious dancing, I can remember taking a sip from a drink and then looking up across the bar to see a bearded red-head clad in a leather motorcycle jacket looking at me. I’ll never forget the look on his face when we locked eyes, and he gave me a little wave. “Huh,” I thought with more than a bit of intrigue.

If I were to say the rest was history, I’d be lying; it took us a few months to get everything on track to the point we could be with each other, both having different obligations at the time, and of course, I had just committed myself to my single life…

But as they say, things that are meant to be, fall into place, and this is what has happened with me and the love of my life, Levi, who I’ll marry next month.

Since being together, we’ve traveled 3 continents, moved together across the world, own animals together, and now own a successful business together. It came together easily, because it was a meant-to-be match.

This isn’t to be a sappy love story, but it’s mostly to show that I don’t think I would have been able to be the partner I am and to fall in love the way I have had I not had that important single girl time where I was just “doing me” and enjoying life.

I had put away any notions of “looking or searching” for Mr. Right and instead had just found happiness within myself as a single girl.

So to any single girls looking for love and feeling a bit annoyed with the imminence of Valentine’s Day, do you. Be you. Live your life for you, and all about you. Treasure your times with yourself as those are the most character building and precious. Hold on tight to your friendships, never say no to an invitation, and never hold back just being you, even if it means cutting a rug on the dance floor amongst multiple vodka drinks in a cougar bar.

You never know who’s watching…

Second Fiddle to a 6-Pack

Someone I loved deeply is an alcoholic, and it has hurt me more than I could have ever realized.

I’ve always been around alcohol, even having my own issues with alcohol that was never long-lived. I could always take or leave alcohol myself.

During my time with the person I loved, I recognized that alcoholism doesn’t necessarily have an obvious face. It hides behind social beers, or sneaking one here and there at inappropriate times.. but then it becomes obvious when you find yourself cleaning up numerous beer cans every night. Half a dozen, 10, a dozen on Saturday. Stopping to count how many times a night you hear the “psst” of the can opening, because you know you’re only up for a fight if you mention it.

Loving someone with alcoholism has left its marks, almost as though I have some sort of PTSD from living in the shadow of someone else’s bottle. I no longer feel comfortable around men who drink. I prefer to be around men who abstain from alcohol, and silently feel uncomfortable when I am with a man and he is imbibing. I judge people who like to drink, and I live as an anti-alcohol advocate.

Alcohol was my bedmate, my soulmate, my roommate, and my spouse. That was then, that person is living with his reality now, while I recover in my own alcohol-free reality.

I can only hope that this person I loved has learned to love alcohol less, in light of new obligations and new life paths.

For myself, I hope I can soon shed the scars of that time I spent being second fiddle to a 6-pack.

Burning Bridges, Bright Lights

Goodbye to my former dreams, my marriage, friends I lost, my lovers, my haters, my depression and pain, my drama, my hate and all that brought me down in 2018.

Hello to a new life, new dreams, new adventures, new jobs, new friends and lovers, the positivity of freshness and newness and a future of happy in 2019.

Sometimes you get the best light from a burning bridge (Don Henley).

Happy to burn so many bridges from 2018 to build new ones in 2019.

This is my year.

Regressing To Plunge Forward

I drive a 2002 Honda Accord, and every time I get in, I always think about how life is so similar yet so different than it was in 2002. In 2002, I was living with my parents. I was driving a 1991 Honda Accord. I had broken up with my first love, and I was getting ready for university, and leaving everything I knew behind. I had the greatest of friends. My vices were boys, alcohol, cigarettes, and cannabis. I was a bit all over the place then, and didn’t really understand my own brain and why it challenged me so much throughout my life.

It’s now 2018, I just broke up with my first husband, I’m getting ready to go into the unknown, as I have left everything I knew behind in Costa Rica. I live with my Mom again. I have better friends in my life than I ever have. My vice is no longer boys or alcohol, but cigarettes (temporarily) and cannabis still are. I am starting to understand my brain, but there’s years of cobwebs to get through.

Sometimes I feel I regressed, but then I remember that we all need to press “restart”, take a few steps back, in order to plunge forward.

Sweep In Front Of Your Own Door

The news can be a real bummer. It’s easy to say the world is going to shit. It’s easy to get fired up about the news, people’s opinions, and want to debate stuff (especially on platforms like Facebook) with total strangers.

We only have one life, and only we can control what we invite into our lives.

The best thing I ever did for myself was control my news intake. This happened after a very long break from Facebook and a very strong cleanup of things I followed, people, etc.

I found that my mood and my day could be affected so greatly by the news, people’s opinions, and “keyboard warriors” that I really had to consider my priorities. Would I let myself get upset by someone’s racism? Would I devote my energies to trying to change the opinions (and policies) against gun violence in the U.S (where I have no control)? Would I spend time yelling through the keyboard at sexist assholes that are getting entertained by bashing feminists? Or would I just exist right in the world in front of me, trying to be a positive agent for change, in places in spaces where I COULD have impact?

You don’t have to turn to ignorance when the news gets to be a bit tough to deal with. Nor do you have to turn to your keyboard to prove your point, debate facts, and spend more time talking to strangers than the people in your life. We don’t get anywhere by being ignorant, or trying to change the opinions and thoughts of ignorant people.

Instead, as Goethe said, “Let everyone sweep in front of [their] own door, and the whole world will be clean.” Stop focusing on Trump, and his constant vomiting of shit. You can’t control what he does (especially if you’re Canadian!). Don’t let him characterize the rest of the world for you.

Choose causes on the international front that interest you, and have a chance to make change, and put your efforts there. Turn your attention to what’s right in front of you, the people, the places, and the events that are happening that you CAN control, just by bringing a positive presence.

Keyboard warriorhood against issues that you can’t change does nothing, but getting up, and sweeping in front of your own door will help the whole world become clean.