Before she knew it, it was already mid June. The pandemic was still running rampant, but some restrictions had been lifted in Phase 2 and businesses were re-opening, including her own place of employment. So, when her friend asked if she’d like to join her and her husband and some of their friends at her cottage, she jumped at the chance. A weekend of sunshine, swimming, music, drinks, and laughter were exactly what she needed before going back to work that Monday.
She packed her bag with all the essentials, but when it came time to choose a bathing suit, she paused. The one she wanted to wear was purchased by her ex boyfriend before she left him. It was a high-waisted bikini with a ruffled top. Super cute. When she tried it on for her ex, she realized it was a smidge too small. She was overflowing out of it in some places and she felt really exposed and uncomfortable, so she never wore it. But looking at it then, while she was packing, she decided to try it on.
Low and behold, it actually fit! She had only lost about 9lbs at that point, but it seemed to be just enough to make her feel comfortable and cute and even feel sexy in it. Not that there would be anyone there to impress – it wasn’t about that. She was truly wearing this bathing suit because she liked it and she felt confident in it. For the first time in a long time, it was about her own opinion of herself, and not what anyone else thought of it. But actually, all the girls at the cottage loved it and complimented her on it, so really, like a true female, she wore it to impress the other women. And she did, so it all worked out!
She went into that weekend with her head held high, feeling good about herself and excited to spend time with her friends in a relaxing, care free environment. They partied hard the first night – danced by the fire, stared up at the stars from knee deep in the lake and drank like fish.
The Saturday was rough. She was super hungover and spent a lot of the day laying on the beach or wading in the water, trying to recover from her fun night. But also, just thinking. Thinking about how she ended up where she was, in that moment. Everything that had happened to her in her life that lead her to that space in time, floating in the water, the sun shining on her, happy as she ever had been. She felt like herself, but different. Grown. Experienced. Humbled and thankful.
That night she couldn’t go as hard with the drinking as she had the night before, but luckily, a cottage angel had brought Magic Mushrooms. It would only be her second time trying them, so she was happy to be doing it in nature, with her friends, in the most positive head space she could have hoped for. The sun went down, the fire blazed, and the few in the group that chose to do it, chewed up those nasty fuckers and awaited the effects to kick in.
She and her friend (who did not partake in the ‘shroomage), have extremely different tastes in music. Her friend likes music more in the dance realm – EDM and the like. She, however, preferred songs with melody and lyrics. They bickered over this constantly, like an old married couple. So, for this occasion they agreed to go 3 and 3 – three songs for one of them, three songs for the other. Of course, she didn’t realize some of her friend’s songs were upwards of like 7 minutes long, but whatever…
The mushrooms had kicked in. She was sitting alone in the grass, away from the heat of the fire. Watching her friends dance, looking up at the stars, feeling the prickly, poking of the weeds under her. Then all of a sudden, she felt it in her chest. The heavy beat of the music. Bump. Bump. Bump. Pounding her heart harder and harder. Her breath quickened with the tempo as it accelerated faster and faster. She couldn’t breathe. The song had penetrated her soul and she was having a panic attack.
It was at the point when she broke out into full-blown hysterical tears that her friend noticed and came rushing over. “I’m sorry! It’s the song. It’s too much. It’s too much!” she exclaimed. Her friend listened and realized that it really wasn’t a great song for someone in her condition, and rushed to change it to a less all-encompassing tune. She shouted to her friend that she was sorry and that she wasn’t trying to play the victim in an effort to get her way with the music. She was overcome with so much guilt for making the moment about her. It was then that one of the other girls came over and wrapped her arms tightly around her. “I saw you crying,” she said. “I know you’re going through a lot. You’ve already gone through so much. I’m here for you. Let it out. Go ahead and cry.”
This comforting new friend didn’t know the reason she had been brought to tears. And though she had momentarily stopped the hysterics, when given the chance to let out all her feelings, especially in the euphoric state of being on Mushrooms, she embraced the opportunity and just started sobbing. Like full on ugly cry – gasping for breath, loud animalistic wails as she cried out every ounce of liquid she had in her body. It was cathartic. Any residual pain, sadness, heartbreak, turmoil, insecurity, doubt, shame – anything negative that she was holding on to was released in that moment.
She thought about her ex, and their entire relationship flashed before her eyes. All the shit he put her through, all the guilt and manipulation. The rift he tore through her entire life. Her triumphant return after leaving him. She thought about her dog, who she missed with her whole heart, but all of a sudden realized that if she had her dog, she wouldn’t be able to do all the things she was doing in her life. She would be held back, in a sense. And as much as she would have taken that dog back in a millisecond if given the opportunity, in that moment she had the epiphany that maybe things were how they should be. And if she were meant to have her, she would, when the time was right.
These thoughts flashed in her head as short bursts. Quick images. But she felt it. She felt these amazing thoughts and feelings as much as she had ever been able to feel anything, ever. It was so real and so moving. She remembers some of the guys, all drunk and stoned, looking at her as if to think, “what the fuck happened there?” And she remembers laughing because she knew how absolutely insane she must have looked. But she didn’t care. She was thankful to have had that experience. And when she was all out of tears, she wiped her nose and laughed with her new friend. They got up and followed the rest of the group down to the water to look at the stars again. She was breathing deeper breaths; she was smiling without even knowing it. She really needed that.