That last line: articulations of a former crack smoker.

Elle B. Hunter

Until you remember THIS – this one right here – this is MY life.

This blog is not just a way of supporting people who struggle with mental health issues, addiction issues, or the alternative lifestyle known as polyamory. It is also for everyone else, particularly those beautiful, special, supportive people that love someone in one of these positions. Or anyone that maybe is curious about this stuff, or anyone who is just a compassionate human beings. I like to provide helpful information for all of the above.

Information about what these things are like from a first person perspective. I teach them because it helps me feel understood and held in the human community, and also because they clearly show me day after day how much the information helps them to have a better concept of reality. And a better instruction book on how to relate to other humans…which I think is pretty important.

Most importantly, it helps me gain insight and articulate. Which, in my experience is one of the most valuable things in the world. It’s scary being a human being, being locked inside this mind and trying to figure out where you are and where you’re going.

So here’s a small amount of information. helps me remember why my journey looks the way it does and where I’m going. And also has helped those I love better understand why I do what I do.

Believe. …I had some fun. The last time I remember it being completely void of any darkness (except, of course, during those “bad trips”) was when I was an undergrad.

When I wore my baggy bell bottom jeans down so low to the ground, that the edges became frayed and, here’s the best part:

It was truly ok. It was coolio. I genuinely 100% did not care. Pants hang, the ground is there, things get frayed.

It’s was ok – these were things I did not have to be concerned with. I can just keep going.

Of course, eventually, the time came when the drugs and the alcohol and the conquest for fun stopped being fun. More than that, though, things started feeling like the Devils lair. More about that later.

Sometimes the people closest to me might wonder if my journey and recovery, and all the ups and downs it can involve, really is necessary. They might wonder “does she really have that much of a problem with drugs and alcohol? Does she really need to work that hard in a recovery program to, as she says (I think she got it from that cult-seeming community): “save my life”?

“Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength and hope with each other that they may solve their common problem and help others to recover from alcoholism. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking.”

“The Preamble”
Alcoholics Anonymous
(the Big Book)

Yes. Yes I do.

I drank the koolaid.

If you wish to debate this with me, whether you’re my friend or a stranger or a partner, go home. Don’t talk to me until you’re ready to stay in your lane and mind your business. Until you remember THIS – this one right here – this is MY life.

“This one, this one right here… this was my dream, my first wish. And it didn’t come true. So I’m taking it back. I’m taking them all back.”

Mouth
The Goonies, 1985

But honestly, even I debate with myself …even I will occasionally gets sneaky with myself, and wonder is this really necessary, was it really that bad?”

Yes. Yes it was.

Exhibit A: “Coke and Crack”

Coke was fun at times. Undeniably.

Until that moment when you’re bending over and snorting that last line. Especially if you are an addict - for us, that moment is not just “not fun”. …that moment is panic. 

Anyone who has been there knows what I’m talking about.

And some of us might be able to honestly say crack was fun. (Jury still out on that one, for me. If anything, it was MAYBE fun the first time.) Or that they liked to partake once in a while (and actually did). 

Coke stops being fun when you’re doing it all day, and every night you take NyQuil to fall asleep (I just found out Jim Jones did the same in Jonestown… cringe.)

Crack stops being fun when you are smoking it all alone in your car in the middle of the day, and there’s literally nothing else you’d rather be doing.

For those of you feeling stuck in that cage – I promise there is a way out. Please find me on IG (link at top of the page), shoot me a message. I won’t tell you what to do – I’ll just listen.

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