Author's Notes:
This post's content involves animals, dead, alive, and angry.
(T) indicates psychedelic experience.
Index:
Trip Notes:
Date: 23 Dec 2022
Time start: roughly 13:30
Substance: LSD
Dosage: 100mg
Location: Outdoors/Botanical Gardens
Family Reunion
Once I had mostly processed the events of my first trip, I wrote an email to my mother.
I had not spoken to her in five years by then, and was still quite bitter and guarded due to the events of my late adolescence. Essentially, I was robbed of the prospect of having a normal life after high school (graduation, college, getting a degree etc.) due to our dysfunctional family falling apart once she and my step-dad split.
I also wrote to my step-dad, who raised me and taught me everything I knew of art and culture. He was my first cheerleader in life, and believed heavily in me. But even he wasn't able to help me when I was lost and homeless as a teenager. I was quite angry at the both of them, but more so with my mother. I reconciled with my step-dad earlier in the year, having reconnected with him through Facebook.
After I met Sasha, I told him (almost) everything that happened. He cried tears of joy, he was so happy for me. We had a video call, things were good between us again.
With my mother, I was way more reserved. We never actually got along when I was younger, and everything that has happened simply widened the gap between us. When I wrote to her, it was only in the intention of retrieving some sentimental items that I thought I had lost, which were a few books and my paintings I made when I was fifteen.
About the painting:
The musician spider in the painting is based of a species of jumping spider (Salticidae) called Telemonia Dimidiata. So I named the character Dimitri Telemann, as a little nod to the species' name and to the composer, Georg Phillip Telemann.
Another little easter egg is the pedipalps (front appendages) of the spider has oversized sleeves. Male spiders mature when their pedipalps grow large and bulbous while our character's palps are slender, indicating that it is a female spider crossdressing in a suit. It took roughly two months of work to ink the details of every pennywort leaf.
***
When I sent the email, I was expecting a few different responses - most of which were negative. I thought about her love bombing me, trying to win me back. I thought about her keeping my paintings hostage, wanting me to pay for the money she invested in framing them. I thought about her blaming me and refusing to talk to me. All manners of responses based off previous interactions with her, particularly from the last few months that I saw her.
Her response was civil, which surprised me. The plan was to stay for three days in town, meet my mom, get the things, and enjoy the rest of the trip. Since Sasha was accompanying me, I felt less afraid to approach her and retrieve what was rightfully mine.
"Am I going to meet your mother?" Sasha asked.
"I suppose so, I'm not too excited for that," I said, "I will say, I will be cold when I'm around her. I hope it's just touch and go: we get there, take what's there to take, and leave.
"Then enjoy the rest of the trip," I added.
He smiled, "Wow, already meeting your mother. And then marriage after New Year? Kids by February? Divorce by spring? Reconcilement by summer?"
I laughed, "I don't know! I just know I love you."
Home Again
I was excited when we arrived in P. - my hometown. We checked into our hotel by noon, left our bags, and walked around town. I grew up in a historical port town that was filled to the brim with art, culture, and stories of colonials, secret societies, and espionage. As we walked past street corners, I pointed out historical facts that I learned from years of being exposed to my mother's tourist business.
I received a message earlier from my mom, it was rather cryptic and strange.
"Help me! Help me!" with pictures of my childhood cat on an awkward position. Was she trying to be funny? I didn't know, I shrugged it off as we walked further into town.
We passed by several places that were rather sentimental for me, including the alley where I slept most nights when I was homeless.
The following morning, we drove towards my mother's new house west of town. I was nervous, kept holding onto Sasha's hand as he drove.
We reached the place, and I recognized the black car my mom used to drive. It laid covered in leaves, sheltering moss and leaf litter beneath it. The gate to the yard was left ajar, awaiting us both like a trap. I stepped inside and inspected the area, it was messy and unkempt. And my childhood cat Oreo was lying dead on the pavement.
I stared at the poor kitty, feeling numb. I stood up, "We have to go."
"What?" Sasha seemed surprised, not seeing the corpse.
"The cat is dead," I said without explanation and walked quickly to the car.
Sasha the diplomat tried calming me down but I couldn't do it. I stood outside and smoked while Sasha inspected the house. I heard talking, becoming more aggravated. Was this some sort of psychological warfare? Did she poison poor Oreo to spite me? Or fed him something before we arrived?
Once my mother came by, she tried hugging me and apologized for the scene. Said she didn't know what happened to the cat. I didn't know what to believe, all I knew was she killed my cat the exact day I came by, after all these years. I was stone cold, upset. I began to lash out and just left for the car. Sasha stayed by the house, they went inside, and I continued smoking.
Eventually, Sasha came out.
"Hey, she got the paintings you wanted. Books too. You OK?"
"No," I said quietly.
"I talked to your mom. We both gushed about you, talked about how talented you were. She's so impressed by how far you've come."
I just wanted to roll my eyes. Of course, she would brag about me to a stranger but totally neglect my needs when I actually needed her.
My mother was often apologetic and hyper during our interactions, and I was stone cold till my chest ached. I didn't know whether she was trying to be earnest or was it a tactic she was using - a type of performance, something to distract me until it was time for the cruelty she was known for to peak its ugly head.
Having to bear her inconsistent behavior over the years made me incredibly analytical and sensitive to other people's words and actions. It was why I felt comfortable opening up to Sasha, who's incredibly honest and straightforward to deal with.
The rest of the day consisted of us burying the kitty, getting my stuff, taking a walk to the Botanical Gardens, going out and getting my mother a lawn mower (yes, that happened), and me dissociating throughout.
"She's insane," I texted to Sasha.
"Everyone is," he replied.
While my ego and spite would've wanted to be angry at my boyfriend's calm composure - a part of me knew he was doing it for my benefit. If it was done my way, it would have all turned into a battlefield.
It would have been a war of egos, as many divorces, break ups, and heartbreaks were.
While I did accept my boyfriend's diplomatic ways, it didn't stop me from flying into a crying, screaming fit at the hotel. He held and comforted me as I cried and vented my anger and frustration. Being incredibly Zen was a quality of his that I will come to be more and more familiar with, even in moments where his heart was breaking and where he felt disappointed. He called it being a "sad clown".
As my anger died down, I asked if I could be alone. Sasha left me in peace, and I took the opportunity to have a long bath, trying to process everything that happened that afternoon. Eventually, I returned to normal.
"Where are you now?" I texted.
"Just downstairs. Letting you have your time alone. Getting hungry?"
"I just want you here," I said, tearing up.
"I'll be up in a minute."
I gave the message a heart.
Spiders & Oysters
"You don't know it now, but these things can have a lasting effect on you for decades to come. It's better to resolve these issues before they start chipping away at you," Sasha said during dinner, "I don't want these things to hold you back from doing what you want to do in life."
While still slightly bitter, I agreed and wished back then that I could see things as he did.
After meeting my mother, we met nicer people of my past life: an old artsy couple who I've known since I was young. They were akin to the grandparents I never had, they helped nurture my artistic mindset. They were delighted to see me, calling our reunion a Christmas gift. I was very happy to see them as well. Things felt much better.
With that out of the way, we had one more thing to do before leaving town: acid in the Botanical Gardens.
Once we took the drops, we planned on walking uphill. But again, twenty minutes later and I was having what seemed to be a big, fat panic attack. I sat down on the mossy steps, breathing deep. Hand upon my chest.
The forest was noisy with life. I turned my eyes downwards and saw a spider weaving its web. Enamored, I watched it as it followed its instincts, coded by genetics, to weave and connect these delicate silk strands.
"Let's walk down and see if we can find a better spot."
"OK."
We walked downhill fast without much effort, and suddenly came across the perfect spot. A small stream hidden away by foliage, with a single bench unused. We got into the water, and I melted into the stream.
I saw weaves of spider webs everywhere, layers of nets sparkling in the openings of the canopies. The fractal structure of the universe began to appear clearer to me on this trip. Space seemed to be composed to polygons, highlighted by the webs.
I found another spider, this one making its net above the stream. As I watched it, time began moving faster and I saw a pattern in the spider's behavior. A ritual, a dance.
I thought about my mother, about my own patterns of behavior adopted from her. There were things I wouldn't be able to change, like the fact that I was her daughter.
Living alone taught me the hard way that I had ADHD, and there were moments I realized things I did were things I saw my mother doing while I was young. The forgetfulness, the constant fatigue, the random cleaning of the house at one in the morning.
I've learned to empathize certain aspects of how she dealt with things. Though I didn't entirely forgive her for the pain and suffering she caused me. At least she admitted she made mistakes when we met.
It would take a few more trips and a lot more time for me to be fully forgiving of her. By then I developed a deep sense of compassion I never thought possible.
As I zoned out, the spider wove. Suddenly it was 6pm. Where did all that time go?
Sasha had been enjoying the cooling stream and found a gypsum block that melted with his fingers, we were enthralled by it. Treasure!
"Time to go?"
"Yes!"
We changed out clothes and walked towards the exit of the Botanical Garden. Monkeys that were scanning the dying crowd saw us.
One snarled at me, and I screamed like a little girl. Sasha was laughing as I held onto him. We made it to the car, and drove through old trees that morphed into heavenly arches.
We went into town and ordered oysters, pizza, and lasagna. I stuffed my face with food. The LSD made food intense and rich in depth. When the oysters came, I tried one and almost fell off my seat.
I tasted the memories of the ocean, the life that the oyster lived - I saw images of green and blue like I was reliving the oyster's existence before it was dissolved in my stomach. I became the oyster as I ate it. And you know what they say, you are what you eat. I was hesitant to eat another.
"Mmm, more!" Sasha was clearly enjoying becoming one with the mollusks.
***
We drove back to the city that night, still feeling traces of the LSD. We reached Sasha's apartment by midnight, and watched the sky lit up with fireworks from the balcony. Cheers and shouts could be heard from a distance. But it was only Christmas Eve... ah who cares, time is relative.
"Merry Christmas, baby," Sasha said, giving me a kiss.