I'm not unique.
Everyone goes through shit.
I just do it publicly.
Because I can. Because I'm a healer. Because I'm a catalyst, an adventurer, and a chaos tamer. Because I'm trickster.
And because I suffered alone with my pain for too many years, and contemplated leaving the planet too many times to count.
And because I made it out alive.
And because I know there are millions of people suffering through the darkness, feeling alone and uniquely broken, and I want you to know that you aren't. Alone. Or broken.
I say out loud what's really happening because we belong together. Because we aren't seven billion uniquely separate psyches, but rather One living organism struggling under the illusion of separation.
We aren't meant to be you and me. We are meant to be us.
Species don't compete to survive. They cooperate and evolve and adapt to survive. The world isn't a static place.
It's only us humans who believe differently. It's us humans who've taken ourselves out of of the cycle of life and created a hierarchy, a pyramid instead of a chalice, and it's that which now threatens our existence. It's why depression is pandemic.
I've gone through the Fire many times. Most of my life has been spent doing things I've been told I couldn't, or shouldn't do but what I've gone ahead and done. I had to.
I've taken huge risks. I wanted to see what I was made of. When I was a kid I WANTED to be sent to one of those wilderness rehab camps for teens. (Btw, I think that's at least part of the answer to this recent chapter in the rainforest).
I traveled, seeking, in order to challenge my demons, because I carried this vision of myself as an enormous tree beating itself against the planet to knock away the muddy demons that were clinging to its roots.
To me this seemed like the shortest and most lasting solution to the depression I lived in at the time. I kept my demons hidden behind closed doors. I took risks and had adventures, I played hard at having fun because I knew when I went home at night I'd find my demons vigilantly waiting for me.
I say this all out loud because I want you to come out of this alive too. I share my mistakes and my shaken confidence out loud because most people suffer in silence. Too many times I've heard someone ask after a loved one has taken their life, "why didn't they say something?"
You don't speak because you can't see a solution. You can't see a solution because you feel uniquely broken and beyond help.
You aren't alone. You aren't broken. You're amazing. You've made it this far. Don't give up right before you win. Let's talk.
Let's stop pretending we're alone.