The black cloud returns after a beautiful MDMA journey

I invested five hours yesterday to achieve tranquility, self-love, and freedom from a sense of failure.

 

This stuff doesn't show up for me unless medicine is involved.  In this case, MDMA.

 

What a beautiful experience guided trips are.  I had two wonderful helpers leading me through my intentionality. 

 

We all took a lot of side trips, and laughed along the way…

 

I probably underdosed…I only took 1.4 mg of pure MDMA…the normal dosage I've been told is closer to 2.  I feel like I respond easily to most medicines (Advil never fails me…even at 400 mg levels).

 

Anyway, it was wonderful and healing and full of caring attention and enlarged hearts and spaces.

 

I woke up this morning back to my old tricks.  Could it just be that there's no place for me left in the US?  This country is a wasteland.  The best are cerebral followers of bright shiny objects (I hope I never read another NYTimes editorial again in this world).  The rest are armed lunatics or so ill they can't get out of their rocker chairs.

 

I'm a radical left 69 year old guy in the US.  I'm not allowed to use the words that best describe how I feel—university professors have lost their jobs for saying "ceasefire" in a classroom.  I wonder what "I ask every one of you to lay down your arms and hold your ailing neighbor" do for my career, if I said it in front of myself.

 

Anyway, I'm 69…male…white.   The world does not need to hear from me, even if my soul is clean and clear.

 

I would like the black cloud to leave me alone.  I don't know which transmitters get excited ny MDMA in particular, but I can imagine a dopamine or serotonin drop after the glistening peace I experienced yesterday.

 

Maybe that's what's making today so difficult?

 

Maybe it's because it's the two year anniversary of my life partner saying the cruelest and most intentionally hurtful gash I've ever experienced…a statement that ended my joy every since:

 

"I know you are suffering.  I will not help you.  You need to save yourself."

 

My life partner.  My only family member.  A professional coach of some kind.

 

That's what the closest person on the planet…the woman I depend on and love…whew…that's what she has for me.

 

That I let her say that to me makes me hate myself far more than I hate her, or hate Trump, or disdain liberals like Joe.

 

Men who can't say the word "pacificism" without giggling.  Small grotesque toy army soldiers.

 

And my life partner, back turned, playing the raven of death.

 

I do not yet know how to carry my medicine journeys back to my day to day life.  I know a lot about other modalities and all of them help with trauma and PTS. 

 

Depression?  That's the mountain that's right in front of me now.  I can't see very far.  The peak is hidden behind the black cloud…and the circling ravens.