Dear A1*;
[to protect your identity of course]
There's this margin of inbetween land in my life in which you lived, the gap between my teenage years and my adult era. And back in those days, I named you Queen. Back then, truly you were the person closest to; I loved you dearly. I named this 'inbetween land' --- "the bathtub era"; as I seemed to live in the bathtub. I even had a desk. Even though bathtub era has ended; it’s not as though I will never enjoy a hot bath on occasion (as it is simply an artistic expression). However, four mid-afternoon baths for months on end will not be on the menu (Utah winters were hash, Jesus). The days between 2012 - 2019 were interesting ones. Ones that I helped me become; ones where I lived in the daydream of what was to become. The ones where I decided I would become everything my heart desires; the ones where I felt strong in my mind's eye -- those days that seemed to last forever. And perhaps they did back than; I did spend sometimes four hours on the phone with you per day. I am ready to quit dreaming and step out of the bathtub. One day people will want to tape my mouth shut; I hope you will always respect my words. This is your goodbye letter.
This is the letter where our deep friendship changes, and I write a letter to the past. This is a goodbye letter from the Laura you once knew and to the A1* that I once knew. This is a goodbye letter to my former self, a reflection I see in you that I am also saying goodbye too. We must begin again. I must begin again. I will not know you in the future and you will not know me. And it is extremely horrific to write. It makes it real. As I have never loved a woman as deeply as I have loved you, sister.
It pains me to write this letter, because as I let go of you -- I let go of that self that I once was. Currently, I lay in the new inbetween land with one foot in the bathtub era; and one foot in the future. I've been in this same predicament before and I held on tightly as others cut the ropes for me. But I was still holding on -- long after those ropes had been cut. I sat wounded, waiting for a time to circle back around again. I lived in my head during the bathtub era. And with postpartum it is allowing me to let go of both my childhood and my maidenhood all at once. My voice returned. I let go through writing; I think we all knew that I would write a memoir.
During the bathtub era -- I held onto that teenage self. I am currently shedding both skins. This time I am choosing the path that I want to go down, consciously and with intention. It feels scary, because one of my biggest traumas and parts of myself that I have held onto are the days in which I didn't get to choose. The days when I felt I was ripped away from my true self. Powerless. They days in which I didn't get to let go -- consciously and with intention. On my 27th birthday when I realized that I was blessed to participate in the an activity that would once again take me to the gates of life and death; and I made a choice to have a baby. I made a choice to heal this time. And I birthed a beautiful, sweet consciousness that I am blessed to learn from -- and to simultaneously witness a depression and mania so erratic that it purged out the deep darkness. I let go, I let go of you. I let go of me.
I held on for multiple reasons. There has always been reasoning behind trudging the dead body of my teenage self over my shoulder. She had a story to tell; a story that has the power to identify the modern insanity of medicating children. And she could write about a pharmaceutical industry that lies to both the rich and poor. I hiked for years to have finally arrived at the ladder that I now need to climb. I must lay down the dreams, as reality is bringing new visions. I hope in the upcoming years the abundance that bestows us allows you to see Africa with your grandchildren. I hope the upcoming years gives me the ability to move forwards towards highlighting a better way forward. One that uses science as a method of examining curiosities with integrity, not as a religion. The blessings of the next few years will help me climb that arduous ladder. I see them coming; the universe is aligning.
I dreamed with you about the finer things in life. I will always remember those days. I could talk to you about my hopes and dreams without getting nampho'd. I dreamed with you about a new era; I dreamed out a day where I could understand 'why' -- to my many, many questions. And you believed in my ability to dream. I knew the day was coming when I needed to truthfully shed the skins of my childhood/teenage years and reach out into the distance for... myself. A new self; a higher version of my bathtub era self, the version of me that I once only held in my dreams. And to step into that power and take on that level of responsibility is terrifying -- as you are having to live upto your own judgements. And nothing is worse than failing yourself. I must reach, I must keep going. I must write. To come face to face with her in the mirror every morning is worth no amount of physical comfort; when you are not living up to your life's purpose.
To write freely: I longed to write as freely as I once did. Back in the days prior to treatment, when I could lay in my room for hours and write about the day. Sometimes I'd call you and read about the latest party. I read to you about the day that I found your brother's condoms under the orange couch. I wrote about my own sexual innocence, I wrote about my adventures. And I was punished for these very writings. I realized I held onto this past selves for so long, because she had something to say still. And she now had perspective. The memories that haunted me have now been refined -- cherry picked to fit the new narrative: that I was never broken. She had insights to share and hope to give onwards to upcoming generations.
There will be a day where our great grandchildren look back into the history books and study the US Dollar and the horrors of the pharmaceutical companies. There will be a day where they laugh at chemotherapy as we do leaching. A day where we laugh at psychotropic medications like we laugh at lobotomies or the ancient spinning devices used to purge the devil out of the insane. A day in which the conspiracy of yesteryears becomes propaganda upon centuries of reflection. A day in which we are dead and buried. Perhaps your handwritten diaries given to your granddaughter. Perhaps it lives on in the hands of another distant relative. Perhaps my writings will live on too. Perhaps. When will our future relatives looks at us as we do Lucy (AL 288-1), the neanderthal.
Why isn’t there a huge diversion of different stages of evolution in the animal kingdom? This question has always plagued my mind as I internally debated evolution. The early 2000s conversation with your brother lived onwards — in the inbetween land; between my ears. I have no theories outside of my own fingertips and own personal musing. I've chosen to believe it is because there is both a time for evolution, there is a time for extinction. It too is the gate of heaven and hell of life and death; a phase I believe we are going through currently. Evolution begins in the consciousness of the animal or other. And the animal get to chose -- in that moment whether it wants to evolve, or not. There were animates (chimpanzees for instance) that chose to evolve (into humans) and those that chose not too. One sect evolved, the other remained stationary. And after that vibration ended; some possessed the humanoid form, some did not. The inbetween is temporary.
The inbetween land is temporary.
I keep telling myself that -- the inbetween is temporary.
Consciousness is ancient; far more ancient than monkeys to human evolution. All are one with source — all is one — we all are one. Maybe the crazy guy from Dr. Bronner's soap isn't so insane after all. And perhaps I read the back of the bottle one too many times while using the bathroom. Maybe there is truth to some of it. Maybe we all are linked by the power of the universe that animates matter. Source power is God; if one is a living being it contains a spark of animation — God themself. All lives are simply a reflection of ourselves, of the creator, in some way shape or form. I learned more about myself through the relationship with you, A1*. It was real for me, I remember everything — and I’ll start letting go of everything till I am far away from you. Till we are far away from each other. You will be remembered as one of the best. As you begin to create yourself and fashion yourself into your idealized version of your dreams -- I will too. And perhaps we will meet again, somewhere else during another inbetween.
And I am sure there will be good times; less days spent together and more infrequent as time lingers -- as we linger to different places on the face of the Earth. I wanted you to have that piece of me that you could hold onto, I wanted a piece of me to hold onto; a piece of you. In the words of Lorde, it’s a supercut of us. And in my head, the visions never stop. The memories play on repeat, especially my favorite ones. These ribbons that wrapped me up, I must untie. It’s time unweave those beautiful bows and lay the remains here. It’s time I let go — of us; of maiden me. It's time to let go of those visions in my head, the visions that shaped me up. The visions that shaped us; The next few years will feel like a whirlwind -- things will not be the same. I hope to preserve what used to be. Just because, I liked those days.
I knew I was saying goodbye a long time ago. I knew I was letting go in Thailand when I looked at Christine* and loved her soul; my arch nemesis was now my friend. We were all friends. My story had played full circle and during those in between moments that little eighth grade girl healed. The last time we took a trip all together, we were all in Boston and I wore sunglasses to hide my tear struck face. And here I was — sharing a bed and laughing until I peed with a girl who was just as human as I. I could look her in the eyes and see her soul; and it shattered the angry queen bee’s previous persona.
Everything will eventually come full circle. Thank you for getting me from point A to point B. I can take it from here.
I hope this letter finds you well,
@laurabell