Sarah's Journal
this just in
what has come before
10 deep
my journal

24th February 2011

Thu, 10:23 am: Peru: Part V

The nausea would come and go, but I was able to make it go away by blowing in short bursts like I was blowing out a candle. At one point I felt something on my foot, I felt it so clearly and distinctly that I sat up and grabbed my head lamp. I covered it with my fingers as not to blind anyone and shone it along the floor to see what I determined to be a tarantula the size of a teacup saucer scurrying away.

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Current Mood: pretty damn sick right now

11th February 2011

Fri, 10:16 am: Peru: Part IV

We stayed in the ceremony hut the whole night along with the other new people. Paul and I decided we could walk back to our huts just after daybreak. As we walked along the path butterflies flitted by and I could hear monkeys and exotic birds awakening in the treetops and then I saw life sized black paper cuts out of men walking across my path, some look as if they were cut in half by scissors.
It was broad daylight and I was still having full on hallucinations.

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Current Mood: beat all to hell

9th February 2011

Wed, 10:12 am: Peru: Part III

I had read quite a bit about people's experiences taking Aya. One of the things that fascinated me were the archetypal experiences among users regardless of their background, sex, age, etc. One is that you will receive instruction/guidance/assistance from small green entities. These usually appear in a form that is filtered through your cultural references; some people see Jesus, Buddha, the Holy Virgin, aliens or fairies. This no doubt explains the prominently displayed Yoda statue. I would loved to have met and talked with the person whose guide turned out to be Yoda. '...unfolding the universe is, vomit you will, mind what you have learned!'

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Current Mood: in the world

8th February 2011

Tue, 10:08 am: Peru: Part II

The next morning after a short flight we were landing in Iquitos. You can only get to Iquitos by plane or boat, there are no roads that lead there. For our next vacation, just to be contrary I think we should logically go to Rome, which ALL roads lead to.
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Current Mood: sense of urgency

7th February 2011

Mon, 9:27 am: Peru: part I

Flying into Lima Peru was fairly uneventful although it was a long seven hours. My anxiety over the coming Ayahuasca ceremony would wax and wane from moment to moment.
I was worried about literally drinking the stuff. I had read all sorts of accounts about the foulness of the thick brown liquid boiled out of the crushed aya roots and various jungle leaves. I was terrible at drinking shots, what if I could not get it down my gullet due to the horrible taste? I imagined an elaborate slapstick worst case scenario where I did a spit- take all over the Shaman who would immediately curse me and my entire family.
Do shaman's curse people? I made a mental note to look that up as soon as I had internet access.
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Current Mood: sorting

8th December 2010

Wed, 9:09 pm: currently in an internet cafe in Iquitos

There are endless stories coming, but the recap is I tripped balls for three days, retched into a bucket, had the universe take me apart and reconstruct me.
Also passed a sign on a hut that said "100% natural disco."
We are flying to Cusco in the morning - Namaste bitches!

14th September 2010

Tue, 1:40 pm: The bar at the crossroads

I want to say up front that I have a healthy respect for doctors, even ones that seem stupid because they finished medical school and I got thrown out of college after two semesters for a poor GPA and a bad attitude. That being said, I do not take everything they say as gospel. I read articles about what they tell me and research medicine that they prescribe and try and make as informed decisions as I am able.
It is tricky thing to take the advice of someone who has knowledge and experience beyond yours and say, "I don't think what you are telling me is right," and yet here I am.

Paul and I have currently come to a critical point in his care. He has been medicated heavily for over eight years of his life now for chronic debilitating depression. The medicine has made him gain weight, his hands shake, he has constant insomnia, migraines and the build up of chemicals has begun to break down his liver. There other choice side effects that I wont mention here, but they are unpleasant. He takes pills because the alternative is him being functionless to the point of coma or eating the barrel of a gun.
He takes them because no other options were given to us.

And so now he has been informed that his depression is "med-resistant" which we suspected about five years ago. The option now being dangled in front of us is electroshock therapy.
We researched it thoroughly and to be frank - it scares the bejesus out of both of us.
After preening through the driest of medical journals, mind-numbing statistics and ghastly new age hippie sites, we found an alternative that seems oddly appropriate and at the same time utterly insane.

In a few months we are flying to Iquitos, Peru and taking the Ayahuasca.
And so I, a person with a fair amount of common sense and a reasonable amount of intelligence is leaving her husband's care to a shirtless Shaman deep in the Amazonian jungle who will blow smoke in our faces and sing after we drink a horrible brown liquid, begin to hallucinate and vomit furiously into a bucket courteously provided.
I am honestly terrified at the prospect but it scares me less than doctors anesthetizing Paul on a table and shocking his brain until he has a seizure. The main side effect is memory loss which they claim often returns in a month or so.
The only reasonable argument I have under my belt for doing this batshit crazy thing is the oldest medicine of the many Paul has been taking is less than twenty years old, they make him sick and uncomfortable, are killing him in incremental amounts and he is STILL depressed.
The Aayhuasca ritual is hundreds and hundreds of years old, there is some research backing up relief from depressive symptoms and there is no record I could find of anyone ever dying from taking it.

A homeless guy who lived under a bridge once told me once that at the crossroads of insanity and desperation is the bar where the devil drinks. Clearly he had been to that bar and I feel strangely as if I have just pulled up a stool and asked for the "special."

Current Mood: like I am walking off the edge of the planet

15th July 2010

Thu, 3:48 pm: The subtle joy of corroboration

One of the stories I love to retell is regarding my days as a homeless teen making a deal with a women's clinic. In exchange for medical services, exams, antibiotics or God forbid rape kits I would be spending my Friday and Saturday mornings in their parking lot making sure the pro-life people didn't throw paint onto the cars in the lot.
When the imperial wizard of the unborn: Terry Randall showed up, the whole place turned into surreal carnival. There were a myriad of indignities I bore from the pro-life folks: shouting, spitting, prayers for my destruction, and sailing photocopied bible passages folded into paper airplanes. "Jeremiah 1:5" hit the bullseye one afternoon right into my cup'o'noodles.
The most bizarre of these antics was the rubber unborn babies they would pelt at us. There were two kinds, the ones that were soft and pink like a dog toy. These had squeak boxes in them that wheezed out some version of "ma-ma" when you crushed them between your fingers. The second were the hard rubber kind we really hated; they left a mark if they hit bare skin but when they hit the asphalt they would bounce high like creepy super balls. The clinic said it would pay $5 for each rubber baby we managed to retrieve but usually they just bounced right into the sewers.
Every time I tell that story I wonder if person I am telling it to thinks I am lying about it because sometimes it sounds like utter bullshit even to me. Then I saw this story:

Those are the exact damn things that used to get thrown at me! I wonder if the school knows they can go downtown and $5 a piece for them.

20th May 2010

Thu, 3:49 pm: New Spoonflower contest - vote for Third Half Studios!

Okay I entered the "fifties" design fabric contest on Spoonflower.  It is palette restricted which always makes these things more challenging.
I have some stiff competition, but I am feeling good about it so if you feel so compelled please vote for me so I can get some free fabric for Third Half Studios.
My entry looks like this
You can vote here (You may have to scroll through to find mine)

Thanks for the votes you guys!

18th May 2010

Tue, 10:32 am: Payback

My initial impulse is to soften the ground on this story by repeating that I may be on the Autism scale personality-wise but I need to stop saying that when it comes to stories in which I am really just being an asshole.
This is one of those.
When I was younger I was just a tool, I had no empathy, no sense of other's perceptions or any idea that what was coming out of my mouth most of the time was rude superior bullshit. I am to this very day surprised I only managed to get punched in the face once before the age of 21.
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Current Mood: Yay!

10 deep