Mountain House

This is going to be a long one but well worth the read, I hope.

Last night I had a dream that could rival Homer’s Odyssey. It lasted all night, I woke up many times from shock and fear (and once to pee) but as soon as I fell back to sleep, it picked up again. It was so vivid I could feel the cold snow, feel the wet rain, smell the smoke of fires, and definitely feel the fear of pain and death and fellow human beings.

I begin the dream as I get off of work at a local store I work at. It is winter, cold, and raining. I do not drive and was going to walk home since I was not able to find a ride. It is currently raining quite hard, so here I am cussing life, waiting for the rain to , hopefully, let up enough that I can walk the two miles home. I was thinking to myself, standing on the store patio near the cart rack, that this rain, watching and listening to it, would be wonderful and relaxing if I wasn’t stranded.

I hear the electric doors open behind me and listen to the cart wheels rattle.

“Hey Lee’s wife, waiting for your ride?” A man says.

I turn and look to him, it’s one of my neighbors. I smile politely and am about to say I don’t have a ride, but quickly hold back for fear of burdening him. Instead I just say I am waiting for the rain to lighten up, then realize I just said the same thing with different words.

“Hell no! C’mon, I’ll take you home.” He laughs that common ‘don’t be an idiot’ laugh.

We quickly run to his car and I help him load his bags before we jump in and head toward home. Not even a block down the road it appears there has been a horrible accident on the freeway and the underpass is blocked off by emergency vehicles.

“We’ll go through to the other side of the parking lot and take the back roads.” My neighbors says.

Everyone has the same idea and it takes a few minutes to get out of the parking lot and on to a road. We go a little farther than the other traffic and take a country road that is not busy. A couple blocks down we come to a cross roads we need to turn left on to get home, but there are cars blocking the intersection.

“What the fuck is going on today?” I say.

“I don’t think it’s another accident.” My neighbor says.

I agree. Men with rifles in their hands and large knives on their hips are guarding the intersection. Two are now walking toward our car.

“Go.” I stutter. “Go.” I say again. “Go! Go! Go!” I finally yell.

My neighbor punches the gas and runs through the road block and tries to turn left but the men, gun fire, and wet conditions cause him to swerve and hydroplane. Our car hits two men head on and my side of the windshield gets splattered with their blood. The car ends up in the grape vines but my neighbor is able to regain control and pull us back on to the road. He drives as fast as he can away from the guns.

“Are they dead?!” I yell. “They’re hurt! Are they dead!?” I am on the verge of hyperventilation.

Before he can say anything, my neighbor loses control of the car again when he hits a pothole at full speed. We end up deep in the grape vines. He tries to start the car but it is dead.

“We gotta go.” He says. “They might be following us and they’ll see the car.”

We get out and start running toward home. It is wet, cold, and the farm land is muddy and slippery.

*I wake up, roll over, think to myself “Damn, what a vivid, scary, dream”, and then fall back asleep.*

I wake up from the bumping of this vehicle. I am in an SUV of some sort. I am with my brother, Joel, and my sister-in-laws, Bri and Louise. I have no idea where Lee is, he was not home when I got there. I think he had probably left work to come get me when the word broke of the attacks. Before phones, media, internet, etc., were all blacked out, news broke of one major attack in each of the fifty U.S. states as well as many smaller attacks across the U.S.. One atomic bomb hit Washington D.C., while air, ground, and water attacks hit the other states simultaneously. Information was spotty but clear, the U.S. is crippled.

My brother and his wife had been near my town when the attacks hit. They came to my house instinctively as did my other sister-in-law, Bri. When we didn’t find Lee there and there was no way to get ahold of him, I gathered up my essentials, diabetes supplies (as I wondered to myself when I would be able to get more insulin after this. Myself and my Type 1 brother will be the first to die), clothes, toiletries, food, a couple of Lee’s swords, and most importantly, my four cats and two dogs. I left a note for Lee letting him know we were headed to the mountain house. Most of my family will be headed there, for sure.

We are packed tight into this vehicle and driving back streets because the main streets are gridlocked. We will need to take the main roads at some point, though, because the mountain house has few options of approach.

Everyone in the vehicle are on high alert, keepings eyes and ears open for anything bad. We see all manner of aircraft flying the skies, some American, most unidentifiable. We hear gunfire in the streets and country. Fires rage out of control all over the cities. A couple of times we hear massive booms and feel the shockwaves of bombs in the distance.

We are terrified.

After hours of trying to figure out how to get through the gridlock, we decide to change course and go to the Auberry house.

The drive there is easier, but still takes us nearly a day to arrive.

As we approach the long driveway to the Auberry house, across the street we see our brother, Glenn, waving us to him. Why would he be at the property across the street from his old house? We follow his instructions and pull in to the small property with a single wide mobile home on it. He shows us to a spot hidden from the road to park.

Once inside the mobile home we are able to talk. Myself, Joel, Louise, Bri, Glenn, his ex-wife, Buffy, and their son, Cody are all crammed in to this two bed, one bath old run down tin can with my dogs and cats. The larger property with the very nice house Glenn built with his own two hands has been taken over by a group of “freedom fighters”, Americans who have gone rogue and take what they see fit from their own fellow Americans in order to fight the bad guys. In reality, these are just assholes out for their own, stealing anything they want from anyone who can’t fight back.

Are we going to try to get the house back? Are we going to try to get to the other mountain house on the other side of the valley, where the rest of our family is, hopefully? We have no weapons other than kitchen knives and the two swords I brought.

“What about Ruth, Nohemy, Dean, Wade, and everyone else that don’t live in our valley? How are they going to get to the mountain house? How do we even know they’re alive?” I start crying.

“And my family.” Bri is already crying.

“We need to get to the mountain house first. It’s where everyone would go first.” Joel states plainly.

“It’s where everyone would go first.” Glenn nods. “From there we’ll know who’s missing.”

“Where is mom?! Is she at the mountain house?! Where is my mom?!” I cry as I look terrified at my brothers.

“She was visiting Ruth and Nohemy.” Joel says with a strained voice.

The worst place for her to be when this happened. The farthest she could be from the mountain house.

We set up a watch schedule so no one can sneak up on us. It doesn’t take long for people to start snooping around, looking for safety. We turn everyone away that asks for shelter. We just don’t have room. It gets physical with a couple of them, but no one gets hurt.

Not much more time passes before, during Cody’s watch, we see a group of freedom fighters walking down the long driveway of Glenn’s nice house. We become alarmed when they approach our tiny home and surround us. We gather our few weapons and hunker down.

“OK, get ready to run. Get to the cars and get out of here, quick.” Glenn says as he trades me his butcher knife for my Samurai sword.


“He’s going to distract as many as he can so we can get away.” Joel says.

“No!” Both Bri and I cry.

“You can’t do that!” Louise cries.

“Don’t worry, I got you, too.” Cody says as he stands beside his dad.

“no.” I can barely say through my sobs.

“Go, now!” Glenn yells. He opens the front door and steps out.

All but Glenn, Buffy, and Cody, escape through the back door and have to fight two bad guys before we reach our vehicles. We hear gunshots and yelling, but don’t see anything until we are driving past the front of the home. Glenn is lying dead on the ground, his face gone from a shotgun blast. There is blood smeared on the door of the home, a lot of it. We have no idea what became of Buffy and Cody.

I cry for my lost family. I also cry for my cats I had to leave behind. My dogs are still with me. We drive toward the mountain house, not knowing if we’ll be able to get through. Three hours later we have made it to the correct side of the valley and now are blocked by gridlock. There are people honking, yelling, shooting guns, outside their vehicles screaming at God. Some vehicles have been abandoned on the road.

“How are we going to get through this?” Bri asks.

“We are going to have to hike it.” Louise says.

“Should we try to get to Chris and Trish?” I ask. They are closer and also out of the city. Their home could be safe.

After a few minutes of silence, Joel speaks up. ” Gather what you can carry. We head for the mountain house, it’s more remote and most of the family will go there.

We hike as far off the road as possible, sometimes it is not possible to avoid at all, but we do our best to avoid other people. There is no way to know who is safe and who will try to kill you for a cracker, or some fresh water.

We walked nearly non-stop for fifteen hours. We all would have cheered and cried once we arrived at the mountain house, but we were too tired and pained to do anything but fall on the soft carpeted floor and sleep.

Chris and Trish were there with their kids, so we had made the right choice to avoid their house. My foster aunt, Maria and her kids were there. My sister-in-law and nice, Karen and Lili, were there as well.

“Where’s Dean?” We all asked.

Karen and Lili cried as they explained that Dean had fought off a couple of bad guys who were trying to take them. The two women got away, but Dean… they didn’t know if he was alive or a prisoner.

Not long after we arrived my brother, Wade, and his wife and kids arrived.

“Too bad we tore down the cottage, we’d have more room for everyone.” Karen said as she hugged each of her family members.

“Has Lee been here?” I had been too scared to ask about my husband.

Lili nodded her head no.

I looked to Joel and Louise, “Where are your kids?” Why had I not asked until now?

“Mine are with their mom, Jordan is with his dad.”

We all sat and discussed who was missing, where they could be, and if we should go look for them. We decided to give it a couple more days since the missing lived farthest away and may be on the way still.

Skip ahead a couple days. It has been decided that myself and my brother, Wade, will head south to try to round up the missing family members. We start out in a car, then park it in some high brush off the road when we hit the gridlock and can’t use it anymore. Then we hike down the mountain. Our trip is wrought with bad people, avoiding gunfire, fires, and heavily populated areas. there are times when we are able to take a vehicle for short distances, but most of the time we have to walk. Then, in a strike of luck, we come across a motorcycle dealership. It has been sorely looted but we find two scooters in the maintenance shop. We ride mostly easy from there.

We stopped by my house to check for Lee but it looked as if no one had been there. Next we headed to Paso to check Dean’s home, maybe he had gotten free and went home. He was nowhere to be found, either. We then headed farther south to look for Mom and our sister’s and their families. Lori and her family were not at home, hopefully they were on their way to the mountain house.

We had made it now to Murrieta, we went to Nohemy’s house. The neighborhood was in a riot, just like most neighborhoods everywhere we had been. There were three cars parked out front of the house, we hoped this was a good sign. We pulled our scooters right up to the front door and knocked hard.

“Nohemy! It’s us, let us in! Nohemy!” We both yelled. We kept looking over our shoulders, the rioters didn’t seem to care about us, yet.

The door opened and Jason let us in, quickly closing and locking the door behind us. The scooters came in with us.

“I am so glad to see you guys!” Nohemy cried. Jason, Troy, Mike, and Mom chimed in.

“Mom! You’re here!” I cried and hugged her.

We hugged and then we told each other everything we knew and experienced from the beginning. Nohemy told us they had been locked in the house all this time, too scared to go out because of all the attacks and also because the rioting in their neighborhood was so, so, bad.

“Where is Kevin?” I asked.

Through tears Nohemy explained that Ruth and Kenny had taken Kevin and Kenny’s son, Jayden, to the zoo on the day of the first attack. No one has seen or heard from them.

“I will go to the zoo and look for them.” I said.

“We will both go. You guys stay right here until we get back, then we will all head up the mountain together.” Wade said.

We drove our scooters down to the zoo. The parking lot was half full of vehicles. We entered the park and began looking for our family. We hadn’t been looking very long when we walked into the eating area and Kevin popped out from behind a hot dog stand and waved for us to come to him.

We ran over to him and found Ruth and the others with him.

“We need to get out of here now.” Ruth said.

“Someone is letting the animals loose.” Kenny said.

“OK, let’s go.”

We all moved together quickly and left the park. There was no way a car could be driven in this city, so we found bicycles for our newly found family members.

This is when I woke up for good.

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I fully intend on continuing to write here, I’m just a bit burnt out on it for now.

In the meantime I have been making videos on YouTube regarding all the same stuff I write about here. I have a total of three videos posted as of this post.

Check them out if you like.

I have the videos set to 18+, so you will probably have to log in and/or “verify” your age.

It’s My Birthday, I can talk about what I want.

I have been going through quite a change the past few weeks. I feel like I’ve almost become a new person. In reality, I am just finally able to access things within myself I couldn’t before.

I started partaking of a certain herb and, boy, has it been good for me. The herb wipes my anxiety out, lessens my depression quite a bit, and gives me energy. It also keeps my physical pain to a minimum, even when I am physically active.

I have been able to do household chores without having to take a million energy and pain breaks. I am able to feel genuinely happy. I am able to concentrate on projects. I am able to concentrate on imaginative ideas for stories, etc..

I am building back muscle strength I haven’t had in years. I have lost a bit of weight, hopefully more to go soon.

I am getting so much done!

It took me a while to find the mixtures of strains to achieve these effects, but when I did, damn, things changed a lot.

I also found a good strain to help me turn off and get the best, most restful nights sleep, ever.

I am rested and ready!

No, I am not high all the time. These beneficial effects last much longer than the high that comes with partaking. I spread it out so the effects I need are there when I need them.


OK, guys, this one is going to be a bit different from my normal Writing While High posts. I am going into this one already a bit happy. Coming down from a smoke out, and just now ate a few gummies. So we’ll see where this goes.

It is the new year, so why not make this Writing While High prompt, Resolutions.

I really didn’t have any resolutions this year. Due to COVID-19, Sheltering-in-Place, and all, I had already been well into a workout routine, food plan, better health care of myself, mental health working, etc… thing I just decided to do one day and, thanks to Mary Jane, I can actually focus on and have the motivation and do it.

I’ve been doing better and better since I started in November.

I do not put time limits on anything. My only goal is to do better than before. I know what my agreements are and I do them, no overthinking, no monsters in my head degrading my desires and work, no procrastination. No pain. No punishment.

And it is working.

I have already started working what would have been my other resolution as well. Our house needs a lot of repair. We’ve tried and tried to get enough money together to do a big fix. It never works out. I have slowly started doing little fix-em-up projects on my own. It really feels good to even get one small thing done yourself.

I have felt a growth of confidence within myself lately, I think it also can be attributed to the partakage of the Grass. It kills my anxiety, therefore it kills the Monsters in my head that tell me I suck, I’m worthless. Without those voices I find more courage to try things and actually work to improve my skills.

Also, anxiety and depression are draining in every way. So by taking the Herb and killing the anxiety and depression, I find myself with much more energy and willingness to get things done!

A lot has changed the past six months. I am almost like a whole new person.

So, no need for resolutions. Just keep doin’ what I do.

I am thinking about giving myself a mow-hawk. I really like the idea. I’ve always wanted one so it would not only be fun, awesome, and cool, but also a bucket-list item!

I do feel genuinely happy and free. Like the whole of eternity is at my fingertips and, within the realm of possibility, I can do anything I set my mind to.

And so I no longer worry about every little grain of sand, I know life isn’t great, it’s full of pain and suffering but….I’m cool with it.

I’m all good, yo.

Like, for real, gimme some munchies, a roof over my head, and the love of my loved ones, I’m all goood.

One good thing that has come out of this pandemic is that it has forced those of us with brains in our heads to slow down. Stop and smell the flowers.


My mind is a blank tonight.

Really, I’m dull tonight. Except that my keys seem to be floating under my fingers.


I just went on a laughing fit so long and hard I almost pee’d myself.

What WAS That!?

What do you call that?! Really, what in Hell was that?! This year was like all apocalypse stories decided to band together and fuck some shit up!

Geez, I’m not even going to try to list the carnage that came out of 2020. It’d be like forcing a victim to relive their trauma.

The sad thing is that it’s not over. The pain and suffering will not suddenly end at the New Year, there is no finale and turn around into a brand new season. Our mental period markers mean nothing to time and nature; it will go on despite.

COVID-19 will still be here on January 1st. We will still have to deal with Trump and the America he broke into a million bits. There will still be natural disasters, terrorism, greed, and heartlessness in droves. Our beloved stars will still drop like flies.

We wish it could all just disappear at the expiration date, but no, it stays and festers and stinks up our brand new year.

Don’t worry, it’s not just all about the bad things. You may have forgotten, but good things do happen, too!

Like getting a new, better, president to come in with hope and help to begin to heal our weeping wounds. And the hope of a vaccine, and people growing hearts and beginning to care about each other.

Personal growth is all we have left at this point. If billions of people managed to grow on a personal level this year… sought out knowledge, worked to get in shape, got therapy, learned a new talent, healed old wounds and relationships, let go of trauma… if billions of individuals each managed to grow in some way this year, even a small way, then it was a much better year than we could have hoped for.

Pain, trial, being pushed to our limits in order to build strength. Life, nature, whatever you want to call it, is our biggest help and our biggest hinderance. From places we couldn’t imagine and in ways we can not control we are hit with complications to our life. Maybe we had grown too stagnate, got lazy and soft, too comfortable. Now we suddenly find ourselves being shaken up, we find ourselves having to find a new normal, new routines, new rules. We find ourselves looking in every direction for a break.

Can I rest now? Can I find one little thing to laugh about. One thing to smile at in all this rubble and explosion.

Tragedy after tragedy this year. And a whole lot of anger.

I saw relationships of all types end. I saw loved ones turn into enemies. I saw heartlessness where I thought I never would. I saw Evil’s ugly face, bare and brazen like never before.

I also saw great compassion, I saw people learn, I saw people find a motivation and passion they had never had before. I saw strangers stand up for strangers with nothing to gain but more love and respect.

Happy New Year, and even though we know it doesn’t work this way, here’s to hoping 2021 is better.

Writing While High 2

I did this once before a few weeks back, writing a blog post while high. My readers seemed to get a laugh out of it, and I got a lot of new followers, so I thought I’d make a regular run of it.

I Ate a couple of gummies a few minutes ago and I am now going to start my blog with a writing prompt. I chose Type 1 Diabetes as my prompt for tonight since the original reason I started this blog was to discuss my T1D and reach out to other diabetics and to teach those who don’t know T1D from a cup of sugar.

So, let us begin…

Most people know that diabetes exists, but many have no idea that there are multiple types of diabetes. Type 2 diabetes is the type most people know about. Type 2 diabetes is a metabolic disorder that causes the body to not be able to make enough insulin to cover it’s needs or to not be able to use insulin efficiently (insulin resistance). Many people believe that type 2 diabetes is the patients fault, that they brought it on by eating a bad diet and/or not exercising enough. Although these things can put a person at higher risk of developing type 2, they are not the cause. Anyone can develop type 2 diabetes, even the healthiest lifestyles and most fit individuals can get type 2 diabetes. Type 2 is NOT curable, once you have it you have it for life. Yes, you can get it under such good control that you no longer have symptoms and your blood glucose level is controlled, but that is all it is, controlled, not cured. As soon as you slack off your hard work to control it you will be sorely reminded that the diabetes is still there.

Another common type of diabetes is prenatal diabetes. The only type of diabetes that is curable is prenatal diabetes. The only people who get prenatal diabetes are pregnant women. The diabetes usually goes away shortly after the pregnancy ends. Women who have prenatal diabetes are at higher risk of developing type 2 diabetes later.

Other types of diabetes are Maturity Onset Diabetes of the Young (MODY), Latent Autoimmune Diabetes in Adults (LADA), Type 3c Diabetes, Steroid induced diabetes, Cystic Fibrosis Diabetes, Wolfram Syndrome, Alstrom Syndrome…. These are all subtypes of Type 1 and 2 Diabetes.

Then there is my type of diabetes, Type 1. T1D is an autoimmune disorder. In T1D the pancreas is not able to produce insulin. Since you know that insulin is a hormone the human body naturally produces, you can then understand that insulin is not a medicine. And seeing as you know in a T1D the body is not able to produce this hormone (not medicine) insulin whenever it is needed, that insulin injections are a therapy, NOT a cure.

T1D’s must inject or infuse insulin either several times a day (insulin injections) or 24/7 (insulin pump), we must also keep a very close eye on our blood glucose level. We do this by finger pricks and a continuous glucose monitor.

OK, guys it’s hitting me now. I really do not care to continue having to be all comprehensive and use my brain. It might explode.


The reality of being T1D is that it sucks, I fucking hate it. I hate having to think and remember and keep vigilant…*stop to yell at dogs to stop pissing each other off* and …and…*read sentence over a million times because I keep getting distracted*…I just hate it, I’d like to not to have to be forever worried, forever aware of things healthy (normal) people (ableds)….

You know I have been thinking a lot about wheather or not T1D is a disability. Like, the definition of disability is to not be able to…the human body/mind not able to do the job a human body/mind is supposed to. OK, my pancreas can’t do one thing it is supposed to be able to do. So, scientifically I do have a disabiliy…I am disabled.

BUT, this disability my body has does not make me unable to do anything an able body can. So, even if I am scientifically disabled, I am not LEGALLY disabled.

So be aware of your technicalities.

UGH, there I go thinking again. I want to turn my brain off for a bit.



So many thoughts changing around in my mind…



I’m narrating again.



Everything is is so funny!!!


Narrating again.


This is going to become a cycle…


This is all so funny!!!


*go play with Tindi (dog)*

*come back*

“I’ve gotta…I’m supposed to be typeing”…

Use brain…/

Thinking hard…

“Thinking is difficult”


have trouble typeing…have trouble working fingers…coordination…

have trouble spelling…\

not thnking straight…

not seeing straight…





maybe I’ll just go to bed…after I type this

Hubby says from the other room “Who would reject Chongus?”

I giggle, this’ll be funny when I read this tomorrow.

not thinking straight





ringing in ears


gonna have anxiety reading this sectioon tomorrow.

what’s wrong with me…oh, no…fuck not an anxiety high!!!!!





*goes on a laughing binge attack*



Damn, I have so much fun with these “writing while high” exeercises

“You OK, hun?” -hubby


waver at him while giggling

*giggle* I give up it’s getting hard to think to keep laughing

typeing *laugh*

You guys are missing so much I cant remeber to type

I just confused you

I’m confused

*giggling all the time*




happy but confused




I feel like I’m playing a game


I love this

so happy

I gotta go pee

(gets up)

I just typed it calm

nope not

I’m gonna write about this later…

Next Day: I fell into a very bad high. I was very high and I was falling through eternity again. I have come to realize that my experiences with falling through eternity are most adequately explained this way, imagine having dejavu every split second, over and over again.

Hubby had my hands on his face rubbing his whiskers.

“This is real. You are here, this is real.”

“I know, OK, this is real. IT’s not real. Right here, right here.”

Time would go by slow, then jump ahead. I just knew I was going insane. I would laugh, I couldn’t get out an entire sentence before my thoughts would shift.

I would feel like I was coming out of it, but then I would shift back to narrating and then fall back into falling through eternity again.

Eventually I passed out for a couple hours, then woke up for a bit I don’t remember well. Finally I fell asleep for 20 hours straight and now here I am.

The interesting thing about bad highs is that you are terrified in the moment, but when you sober up you look back and it was actually fun. That’s IMO.


one of the most intriguing effects of weed for me is that kind of synesthesia that happens so often during a good high. When senses get mixed up and crisscrossed. It amuses me, fascinates me. I usually both wonder over it and melt into it.

A great experience.

Last night I smoked some hookah with weed mixed in the shisha. I believe it was a mix of mostly indica and a bit of sativa.

As we slipped into the high, feeling very melty into the couch, my friend put on some music. The song was Oh, Death by Jen Titus.

The low humming by the men set my bones to a pleasant vibration. The music vibrated in my muscles and my body instantly relaxed. I felt blissful as the vibrations of Jens voice and the male voices purred throughout my body. Every note was a physical vibration, It was exhilarating and pure peace all at once. I was truly feeling the music.

I’ve seen spoken words as colors before, I’ve physically felt emotions (happiness was head pain, fear was a burning sensation on my skin, sadness was chills),… I’m no stranger to synesthesia. But the way I felt the music last night was a whole different level of awe.

I love these kinds of highs.

All Good Things…

Supernatural is my all-time favorite television show. November 19th aired the series finale. 15 years of great T.V. has come to an end.

The final night first aired a documentary episode which consisted of interviews with the cast, creator Eric Kripke, and Producers Andrew Dabb and Robert Singer. It also discussed an overview of the show, it’s storylines, evolution, characters and actors, including Baby, the Impala. This episode was very well put together.

Samantha Smith and Misha Collins both summed up the two core aspects of Supernatural perfectly:

“They’re battling for their own freedom and freedom of humanity, really; from monsters, but also from the control of gods and angels.” – Samantha Smith

Samantha Smith as Mary Winchester

“It’s a show that’s, at its core, about family relations and love, and that’s something that all of us can relate to.” – Misha Collins

Misha Collins as Castiel hugging Dean (played by Jensen Ackles)

The actual final episode, titled “Carry On”, aired next. This episode I found to be just the right ending for the show. It was written and filmed with a feel of early episodes, contained a lot of little reminders of previous episodes and running quirks of the show we fans love so much.

The wrap up of the show and characters was simply perfect. The character Dean had always said and hoped for certain endings for himself and his brother, Sam and, well, he got it.

You can not ask for anything better.

Sam (Jared Padalecki) and Dean (Jensen Ackles) in the finale of Supernatural

After the airing of the finale I was saddened to find on Twitter a certain percentage of people complaining about the finale. It wasn’t good, it wasn’t what they wanted, it wasn’t epic.

After all these years of such a tight-knit, loving, caring, awesome fandom, so many lost the kindness that the #SPNFamily is so well known for.

I think, many of these complainers are simply trolls doing what trolls do, and not actually fans. I also think that many of them are true fans that didn’t want the show to end and couldn’t handle the heartache of endings and simply could never be satisfied no matter what the finale episode was.

I for one loved it and think it was perfect. I look forward to watching the entire series over and over again until my end.

I thank all those who have been involved in the making of the show over the years, you have brought love, entertainment, joy, hope, and family to all of us fans.

The 13th Day Of…

How was your Friday the 13th? It’s 3:46PM on the 14th right now and I am still jittery, fog-brained, depressed, and feeling like emotional shit for everything that happened last night.

And I don’t even remember last night!

Let this be a lesson to all to keep close track of what/how much you ingest when you partake of mind-altering substances. Especially if you are crossfading.

What is crossfading? That is what we call it when we are both high as a kite and drunk as fuck.

Crossfade can be the most amazingly wonderful experience, which is why so many of us work to achieve it. But when done wrong – and it is super easy to do it wrong- it can be the most petrifying experience.

The latter is what happened to me last night.

So, how did I fuck up my crossfade? Well, it is really, really stupid, but we all know I don’t shy away from taking resposibility for my stupidity, so here goes.

It all started when someone packed the Hookah. Blue Mist shisha, mixed with this secret blend of herb. This friend makes this mix that tastes like chocolate, no one knows how they manage to make this flavor, but they do and it is yummy.

We smoke. I get a mild, pleasant high. We talk for awhile, life is good.

I get the munchies and remember I have a caesar salad waiting in the fridge. I go get it and someone says, hey, try these drops in your salad, they are lemon flavored so should mix well with your dressing. I am a bit anxious but go for it. I think two or three little drops were put in. I ate my salad and promptly forgot about those drops.

Roughly two hours go by and we get ready for our Zoom meeting with friends to play our own version of Drunk History; Drunk/High/Crossfade History. I prepare and start drinking some Diet Pepsi with a couple shots of Whiskey mixed in.

The evening progresses and I grab another drink. Now we are up to fourish shots of whiskey (probably more because I’m not measuring). At some point early in the Zoom I nomed on two sativa gummies, I love a head high more than a body.

Now, remember, the Hookah has long since worn off…or so I thought, and I have long since totally forgotten I ate those drops in my salad.

The Zoom is going on. I am thinking I’m being obnoxious and annoying to my friends. I send a few non-sensical texts out to friends.

The next thing I know I am sitting on my bed, shocked at the sudden change in location. Now I am sitting on the couch saying something about needing to pee but I don’t think I can stand up or walk. Hubby suddenly appears in front of me. I say something about drink and suddenly a bottle of water pops up in front of me. Just like magic.

Poof! Water.

The evening progresses with black outs intermixed with moments of magical appearances of Hubby and water, intermixed with moments of ugly crying, just wanting people to be happy, and I don’t want to go to the hospital, check my BG, maybe I need an IV fluids…

Not once during the entire night did I stop feeling a terrifically terrifying sense of terror. A couple times I think I hallucinated ghosts in the room with us.

At some point I pass out.

I wake up several times throughout the next 12 hours, still quite high/drunk. I did not get a traditional alcohol hangover, but I do definitely have a weed hangover. I feel OK, but then I feel a twinge of panic for no reason. I sometimes feel like my reality is altered and I am going crazy.

Drinking water, and waiting for it to wear off.

A blog about my life with multiple chronic illnesses… and some other things I like and do mixed in as well.