To Abe - Moments 01

I woke up early. Waiting for my wife and kids to fall asleep – they always went to bed later than I did. I knew I had a good 10 hours until they woke up, and I knew my wife would look into my eyes to see my current state, and I knew I could not withstand her judgement. I ate the ‘magic mushroom’ bar as quickly as I could stomach it. I also knew better than to believe it was the real mushroom. These companies that supplied the head shops were out to make products as fast as possible and to be as legal as they could. So, they used a form of liquid DMT which they infused into some very bad tasting breakfast cereal chocolate bars. My stomach churned, wanting to upheave that foul flavor. I drank water and got my cigarillo ready for when the effects started to kick in. I would empty the tips of the cigars out and fill them with cannabis flower. I had enough experience by this point to know a good dose. My dosage went as follows: smoke enough to get as high as possible without coughing up my entire lungs. Weed always made me cough. There were a few times I remembered that it did not. And at those times I can also remember there being such a low high that it wasn’t worth the smoke. I sat on the white couch and doom-scrolled until the effects started to kick in. I always expected something different to happen than the last times, but the effects seemed to be mirror images of the last time, and times before that. I started to feel the effects. I knew this was the come-up stage. So, I sat my phone down and prayed. He really did love me. My pain disappeared as the effects increased. Oh God, the bliss. To know the One – and to be surrounded by His love. My mind still remembered the pain, and it made me hate the pain. “Why does this pain hide His goodness!? Why does this pain trap me in my current state!?”, I thought. I could still sense the come-up happening – but my mind wandered even still. It seems to wander increasingly as of late. Wandering from one understanding to the next. How does this system work? How does that system work? How do they work together? Oh, ok, I figured that part out, let me go onto something else of interest. So, I picked up my phone to scroll. That addiction still had me. The content was different than the usual content. Vastly. I had been high so many times, that I had developed the ability to think clearly even in the most intense of states. My wife would have argued otherwise. She could always tell when I was high. She said my catch phrase was, “That ain’t no joke!” Anytime she heard it, she knew. “It’s your tell!”, she had told me once. But, regardless, I could still use the functions of problem solving, noticing patterns, seeing differences from the normal. This was maybe a part of my addiction that seemed to help me. I didn’t get high always to ease the pain. Instead, I always attempted to try and notice patterns from that place. How did I think differently? How did it make me respond differently? Could there be a set pattern for different types of highs? Were some pure and others evil? Were they dependent on my mood? In what ways were they beneficial? In what ways did they hurt? I had almost a scientific approach to getting high. I could not tell you where it came from other than just wanting to know how it worked. I was seasoned by this point. So, I noticed the immediate difference in the content of my scrolling. Very quickly, as I scrolled through different reels and shorts, I began to see mediums. You know – the black lady fortune tellers. I could see their spirituality mostly aligning to that of Christ – speaking of many things I have heard preachers from the pulpit say. I could tell that these videos were not normal videos that appear on people’s pages. Instead, they were reposted from other platforms. You know the reposts that have the icons slightly inside of the actual app you are using’s icons? Some had several layers of icons. One lady I remember. She warned of Lot’s wife – looking back and turning into a pillar of salt. She said, “Don’t go back to the things of old!” I knew she was talking to me, and my attempt to look at how social media reels had been in the past. So, I put down my phone and went outside. I sat on my chair in the backyard. The night was cool, the air nice. My dogs – who also had the ability to sense when I was high, were wandering the backyard, doing their usual thing. I remember looking at my house. The grass that needed to be cut, the sidewalk that had been upheaved and repositioned after the sewer line repair, which I had been unable to get perfectly back into position and was about 3 inches off from center. The large glass panes that enclose my patio, one of which has a large crack and is dirty on the inside, unable to be wiped clean. The crooked blinds that I had put up to try and shield the harsh sun. The dog hair on the rug leading inside. All of it I took in. I sat in silence, feeling the presence of God. Knowing that He Himself was in me, and He had made it all perfect. Every little thing that I would hate for others to see while I was sober, was perfect at that moment. His presence made it that way. And I was one with Father Himself. His love was there, in me. Around me. Very present. He really did love me.