The Worst Thing I Have Ever Done

This article refers to illicit substance use. This content does not condone the use of illegal compounds and should not be taken as medical advice. Some of the names have been changed to protect identities.

I received some advice to write anecdotes about my life and to be as authentic as humanly possible. Anyone who knows me is uniquely familiar with my brazen speech and unabashed frankness. My sister even went as far as to say I need to work on my people skills and be a little less blunt. However, these traits of honesty were born out of the worst mistake I have ever made.

When I was twenty years old, I was in a generational tornado that struck the heart of Tuscaloosa, AL. Depending on the scale, the massive twister was ranked as an F4 or EF5 and brought widespread destruction and loss of life. That day was April 27th, 2011. Many will remember this historic event as over two hundred tornados touched down in a single day across Alabama and Mississippi. I will remember it as the day my life changed forever.

Just prior to the tornado, I had been going through a personal crisis. I caught my boyfriend cheating on me, missed an exams, dreaded finals approaching, and I was suddenly experiencing a sort of existential crisis. This cocktail of events sent me into a tailspin which put me on medical leave as to delay my final exams dates. The doctor wrote the petition for my recommended absence on April 25th, just two days before the tornado. I felt consumed by my world crumbling, only I had absolutely no idea what was about to happen next.

By the time the storm had come and gone, it was clear my sanity was also hanging in the balance. So, what do a bunch of twenty-something-year-olds do in a time of crisis? We ate magic mushrooms, of course.

Now, my dear reader, before you judge, hear me out. My car had been totaled in the storm. My apartment building adorned a “CONDEMNED” sign beneath the missing roof and tattered corner wall of Apartment 10. My boyfriend was AWOL (presumably with the mistress). With all the loss and mayhem, the psychedelic retreat was a welcomed respite from the woes of the past seventy-two hours. I did not comprehend the degree that my life would change after that day.

No, my choice to do magic mushrooms was not the worst thing I have ever done. While I certainly did not appreciate the medicinal value and work required with entheogenic medicines at the time, it did keep me remarkably calm in the first week after the storm. The effects, however, were not long-lasting.

The months which followed that fateful day would be unimaginably tumultuous. I started suffering from grand mal seizures during the summer. Housing was unstable. Work was unavailable to an epileptic whilst having multiple episodes on the job. I found myself living on couches, losing friends left and right, and wound up living in a stranger’s house on a farm in Summerdale as her ward. Things were not going well.

One night, my landlord/employer/keeper informed me that I needed to drive her to Jacksonville, FL where she was to serve a week in jail for a DUI I knew nothing about. Being that seizures were still frequent, I refused. This decision was met with physical and verbal attacks, resulting in my fleeing to the neighboring farm for help. Crying and panting, I anxiously beat on their door and was met with open arms and prompt call to my parents — my worst fear.

My parents and I have always had a strained relationship. Being forced to live with them in their island home may sound like the perfect retreat, but nothing could have been a greater hell for me. I began drinking at least a bottle of wine a night immediately upon arrival. All my friends had deserted me except for the very, very few including my childhood best friend, Kate. I could not blame them either. I was unraveling at the seams, and that was simply too much weight to carry for any young adult.

Now, we are at the part of the story where if you did not judge me before, you probably will now.

There I was, in hell on Ono Island, when I got a call from Kate’s boyfriend, Joe. I had introduced the pair to each other a few years prior and knew the lad independently from my previous occupation. I also knew of his attraction to me…

Joe called and offered to take me to dinner as an escape from the island, and I gleefully accepted the invitation. Being that we had been friends for several years, he was well-acquainted with my difficulties at home. Feeling sympathy for me and perhaps for his own gain, he extended his home and took me to live with him and several other people in large house nestled about the suburbs of Mobile. I spoke to Kate about the arrangement, and she was more than encouraging.

The beginning days in the house were a wonderfully, joyous reprieve from the past several months. I felt I could breathe for the first time in ages. I slept without the numbing effects of alcohol and awoke with my mind renewed. And I had Joe to thank for that.

So, when the first romantic gestures from Joe were made, I did not even contemplate my decisions for a moment. Kate was traveling in Europe, and she would be none the wiser. I was completely swept up in my newfound freedom and wanted to embrace all its glories. The souls I would crush were not even an afterthought at the time. I used my circumstances of pain and misery as complete justification for every action I took. Getting lost in the moment and having the feeling of belonging and “love” was intoxicating, but the high would only last a few short weeks.

Rounding my third week in the home and lying to Kate, I began to understand the ramifications of my decisions. Joe was not Kate’s passing crush. He was the light of her life. He broadened her horizons and showed her a life of possibilities she never imagined. In not just a single moment, but with innumerable moments, I took that from her. The one and only person who stuck with me through my darkest of times. My deepest defender became collateral damage in my demise. And for what? I did not love Joe. I did not possess some long-lost passion for him that had been somehow unmet. No, I was selfish, devious, and maniacal.

I had to accept what I had done and the consequences that were sure to follow. If there was any hope of me learning from this horrid decision, I had to come to terms with the depravity of which I am capable. The Jungian integration of shadow was necessary for me to discipline the demon I had allowed to flourish in my soul.

That final week at the house and the realization of what I had done led me back to the island, my self-imposed punishment. I was on my parent’s beach when I called Kate to tell her exactly what I had done. Upon confessing my sins, I prepared myself to be met with vitriol, anger, hurt, and disgust. I knew I was to be rejected by my only true friend. However, Kate responded in a way that continues to influence me to this day.

Instead of anger, Kate met me with empathy and kindness. She did not cry or yell. The only thing she did was assure me that I was not lost and that she still cherished me as a person and as her friend. She showed me true love and forgiveness and the power of acceptance and humility. Mind you, this was from the mouth of a twenty-year-old college student.

It was in this moment that I realized what the truth can do as well as how lies can destroy. I understood the difference between those who say they love and those who do. The unadulterated power and strength it took her to forgive me was on full display by the ease in which her forgiveness came. This one act of compassion did more for my repentance of bad behavior than any form of punishment. Which begs the question, what if the key to life is being honest and full of love?

Could it really be that simple?

Kate taught me the schoolyard principle of “the truth shall set you free” to be a founding tenant of life. As a result, I have made many mistakes in my search for the truth. I have been rude, triggered, and arrogant more times than I can count, but one thing I always do is seek to tell the truth. With that, I have welcomed the mistakes which accompany the search for all things genuine. This gift has been one of the greatest and most profound treasures in my life, and I accredit it to my happiness and success in all endeavors. I found that you do not have to be the most intelligent, the best looking, from the best family, or any of those things to simply… be… honest. And with that gift, the benefits were sown and reaped for years behind and for years to come.

*Note*

Kate and I are akin to sisters to this very day.