Have you ever wondered why recently single people always drop a lot of weight right after the break up? It’s not the reason you think. It’s not because they are so depressed they just can’t eat. It’s not because they are so stressed out they can’t keep the weight on. It’s because when you shed the heaviness of another person’s bullshit, you fucking feel like dancing…all the time.
I just put my kids in bed, smoked a bowl, and turned all the lights off in my living room. I then helped myself to a cold bottle of Soft Parade, from Shorts brewery. And now I am dancing to Spotify’s “Top tracks from 2016,” a playlist they so graciously created just for me. What a great idea. I can’t wait to listen to that playlist in ten years, like a soundtrack of the most difficult year I’ve ever experienced. I’m not going to lie, this soundtrack is like therapy right now. Music, pot, and a bottle of beer that tastes like strawberries making love in my mouth, I am content in every possible way. I suppose most people would climb above their high horse and shame me for being so irresponsible. Society tends to look down on catching a night cap, especially for a single mom. I can imagine most people would think of me as a trashy person because I like to get high. I’m probably even spending my child support on drugs. I’m not, really. I just imagine that people would think that about me. Mom’s are always held to a higher standard than most. But guess what? We’re human. The only women I know who actually try to keep up with that ridiculous image of plastered perfection are the most insane people I’ve ever met. And I have met some very insane people.
That Mom that you see at the school, with perfect hair and her shit all together, strapping her little soccer stars into the back of her mint condition Escalade… That woman is made of plastic, inside and out. She only appears to have her shit together, much like a piece of plastic fruit appears to look edible. I will take a stoner mom friend any day over those perfection Barbie wannabes. Fuck those bitches. A friend of the devil is a friend of mine.
Here’s what I think about me…I think I wake up every morning, alone in the dark, cold Michigan winter. I think I throw some clothes together, usually running out the door with a light on or I forgot to take the trash out, so now it’s piled up for another week. I usually brush my teeth at work, because I can’t afford to be late again. I think that I am that girl who is non stop worrying about the bills and the social life that I don’t have, and my homework, and the sex I’m not having, and what’s for dinner, and did I mess up at work, and how are my girls doing with life, emotionally? Because if they aren’t 100% perfect, it’s 100% my fault. Karma, I guess. My life is a hurricane right now. I don’t see that changing any time soon. But I choose to take care of myself through this endless storm. I choose to get high and have a beer and dance by myself in the dark.
Honestly, I think my girls are doing really well. And I think we’re knocking this single parent family thing out of the park. My children are thriving in life. You want to know why? It’s because I fucking tuck my kids in every night, and then I let it all go. I forgive myself for being imperfect and a little irresponsible. And I release all of the tension in my shoulders. And I dance to music that I don’t have to argue with anyone about. And I feel beautiful, because when I am high, everything looks beautiful, even my reflection. Stress falls away and I feel happy. And I feel confident that I can not only survive this lifestyle, but I can thrive on it. And because I allow myself to unwind at night, I’m able to wake up the next morning, feeling calm and content with a smile on my face. I’m a better mom because I get high. I don’t smoke pot every day. I don’t get high around my kids. And I usually only have a couple beers a week. But when it’s just me and the moon and a collection of my favorite songs, I wallow in the sweet solitude that has draped over my life. Instead of feeling smothered by it, I feel swaddled in the comfort of it. And I don’t care what the law says, or what society has to say, or even what you might be thinking. I feel good. And I know that I’m doing better at succeeding in life because of my choices.
Society has been shaming stoners for a long while, now. And then they gaslight us by saying we self medicate, that we are just catching a buzz in an attempt to relieve our depression symptoms. You know what I think about that? I think, yes! We are self medicating! And it’s fucking working! I have not been this happy to dance alone in my living room since the last time I was single and high.
Do you know anyone who has ever quit taking antidepressants? Me neither, because they are designed that way.
Tomorrow, however, is going to be another great day. I might get high. I might not. But I will wake up feeling satisfied with my life, and filled with gratitude for these precious moments I have to myself.
You can enjoy my Spotify soundtrack here: