Eat the Elephant

How do you eat the elephant?

When Gary arrived in a new place the first thing he did was bury a bag of guns. I thought that was fascinating. At the very least he seemed like someone I shouldn't piss off. Gary also said, "If you spend 10 years fucking up your life it's reasonable that you spend 10 years repairing it."

Fuck. That was in November 2020.

I'd been drunk for seven years -- I'd been in a doomsday cult for 37 years. I didn't know what I believed -- I wasn't certain of my thinking. I had been wrong about everything -- I proceeded with caution, skepticism, and intention. It would have been easier to go back to Jehovah's Witnesses. I could have played them once I knew they were a cult and how it operated. I could have finally given them what they wanted. I could have been a big fish in a small pond. I could have surely seen my son more but what message would that send? It would take a long time to repair things. What did I want?

Everything I wanted was impossible except one thing: I wanted to publish a book. My mother used to tell me to throw away what I'd written. My writing had always felt prescient. I wanted to use it to rebel against that which had oppressed me, to create something of value from my past, and to redefine myself. I didn't know how it would happen -- just that it would. How do I do that?

My life has only improved since I found myself homeless during Covid with over 30K in debt -- since I decided to live authentically. I imagine I'll spend the rest of my life seeking the best version of myself -- that's far less daunting. I began having PTSD flashbacks only a few months ago. I keep remembering long lost memories -- reacquiring forgotten parts of myself. My mind begins reprocessing my earliest memories toward my most recent. Often I wish they'd stay forgotten. Religious deconstruction is exhausting. One bite at a time.

"Fuck Off Lions" by Frank Louis Allen