A Stranger in a Strange Land I
Storytime
In 2018, I was the “Chief of Staff” and Head of Marketing for International Traveler’s House Hostels (ITH) in San-Diego/Los Angeles. I was tasked with managing the managers, building and maintaining the website, all media production, marketing on all platforms, and being the Jamie for their podcast. Besides a learning curve on the website design, I kicked ass every day.
Like a dozen other stories I have of great opportunities that supernaturally fell apart after a few months—this one started out promising. But it wasn’t long before everyone else’s problems became mine and wrote me a one way ticket out the back door. The company’s money troubles, poor leadership, an emotional rift between the owners and the alpha male complex I seem to trigger everywhere I go combined forces for a head on collision with me minding my own damn business.
Push came to shove one day as I was five seconds from beating the shit out of the COO in the basement for trying to withhold my final paycheck. In those situations, you say everything with your eyes. I got that paycheck. He got to keep his pretty surfer dude face.
I packed all my things, got in the car and left without saying a word to anyone. Feeling friendless, homeless, and infuriated, I drove the 3000 miles to meet up with my then long distance girlfriend who was on vacation in the Carolinas.
A mountain of thoughts tumbled through my mind on the drive there.
Like, why did the CEO have a painting commissioned to hang above my head in the office that featured a pig in a bathtub—that he said represented me—and an all seeing eye above the pig that represented him? The look in his eyes and the smile as he presented it to me was even creepier than the fucking painting.
Or, why did they try to hack my google drive and try to steal the work I had done for them and avoid paying me for it? This was a large, well-known and successful company acting like a band of pirates.
It was this kind of strange “like a light switch” crazy I’ve had to deal with most of my adult life. Behavior that lacks all rationale, defies all description and leaves a person feeling very lonely, very confused and very tired. I’ve had this type of scenario on repeat in my life for the last decade. Every job, every relationship, every thing. I have a grace period before it all goes wrong. I try to enjoy it the best I can.
I’m writing this because after all these years I still don’t know what to do with these stories. They still drive me crazy when I think about them. So I try not to. But every now and then when I take a break from the caffeine or the screen or whatever other distraction I can get my hands on, the halls start to echo again, and I realize my mind is still haunted by a hundred ghosts.
Maybe I’m looking for catharsis, or kindness, or recognition. I don’t know. But I was taking a drive (which is usually when these things manifest themselves) and I decided that instead of retelling the story in my head over and over again, I’d tell you the story instead.
When I arrived in South Carolina, I only felt more alone. The most prominent memory was being yelled at for talking, by the girlfriend’s mother. Not because it was loud. Not because it was inappropriate. Simply because it was me doing the talking. A consistent theme throughout the relationship. Trying to do the right thing, while also not complying with the tyranny, I suggested that my friend and I take the conversation elsewhere so as to not disturb anyone.
As we went down the stairs to take a walk on the beach, I was heckled by the 70 year old grandma for “crying about it.” There was no crying. No attitude. No pettiness in anything that I did. I promised myself I would be the peacemaker and the better person in interactions I already knew were coming. Though the harder I tried to be polite and kind and accommodating, the worst the demands and heckling got. Nothing had changed with her family besides it getting worse.
Heckled, by a 70 year old woman for politely excusing myself after being given an insane command as if I was a child. And it wasn’t playful. It was meant to be mean and get under my skin. I had no idea why. I still don’t know why. I was always kind to her. This was another theme in my life. People trying to get a rise out of me, seemingly for its own sake. The less it bothered me, the harder they tried. The nicer I was to them, the more diabolical they became to me.
This time marked the beginning of the end. The end of the world and the end of any semblance of a peaceful and stable life. The covid propaganda was right around the corner, and everyone seem to be losing their mind over something that didn’t fucking matter. Every job followed the same pattern, with a tiny bit of sanity that came from the random employee that told me that the room wasn’t big enough for the bosses ego and my existence.
To be honest, I didn’t even like hearing that. It didn’t make me feel good, or strong or redeemed. But it offered the only sane answer I could come up with. What it didn’t ever offer was a solution to the problem. I bounced from one place to another. I made friends I thought would last for a lifetime to only lose them a short while after that. I held powerful positions marked by meteoric rises filled with success and progress, only to be framed for someone else’s mistake or put on the bosses shit list overnight for reasons unknown. I’ve been out of the frying pan, into the fire, down through the pipes and on to the floor, which was lava.
I am the Stranger in a Strange Land.
And I still don’t have any answers. I feel more lost now than ever. I feel paralyzed to make new friends and start new ventures. I assume everything will fall apart anyway. I’ve become more schizoid about it, chalking everything up to a spiritual war in my life. Not because I’m superstitious or prone to self affirming delusional mythologies. But because the situations defy physical explanation.
I hope I can get to a place where none of it matters. But in the meantime, I guess I have to let it drive me insane.
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It is spiritual warfare. Sometimes the attacks manifest symbolically as in your pig in bathub episode.
I recommend Gryphon's (substack) / Galahad Eridanus (youtube) work, starting with his oldest vids and articles. His work gave me great insight into why these attacks happen and what forces are behind them.
I can't tell you how similar our stories are. Every job, relationship, friend, acquaintance. Everyone I have ever been close to for any length of time have had the switch flipped. I had 2 “friends” who I would have done anything for actually tell people they were trying to ruin my life from the moment they met me for no reason at all. They could never give a reason that was “I just don't like her. “ Then why try to be my friend. Why go out of your way to " ruin” me. Why go out of your way to even befriend me. I never understood it. It happened at nearly every job. I had management tell me if it were up to them I would have been fired years ago. I excelled at every job I ever got and promoted within months. Most people who had been there for years hated me for that. I can't help that's just who I am. I give 110% because I like to. I was thrown under all the busses.
Here's where we are different.
In 2016 it broke me. I had a mental break like no other. I had a few small jobs after that with not much responsibility but I still couldn't do it I felt defeated. That's when I turned to drugs super hard. I was kind of always a closet addict but I never let it interfere. I was jobless my boyfriend was able to take care of our needs and I was able to take of my habits. I spiraled out contr9l for nearly 3 years. In December of 2018 I got clean. I became a recluse for a year. The rest of the store is rebuilding my mental strength to cope with daily life and not eating my feelings. It took 5ish years. And then I found you on TikTok. And my life was changed spiritually again. I had done the work to get clean and I had watched all these sober people live these great lives working and living and loving life. I hated it. I couldn't function I couldn't leave the house I couldn't hang with friends I couldn't be in public for too long without a mental break. I just wanted to be “normal” whatever that was. And then I made my household healing prayer. I carried it with me everywhere. I recited it in my sleep I sang it in my head while I did chores. I changed it while I walked my dog. Within that year things started to change. I couldn't believe it. It was really working. My anxiety was diminishing. My pain was dissipating. My dog was becoming my active at 10 years old. Mr boyfriends depression was fleeting. We were making moves. We were doing it. All because of you friend.
I know the odds are stacked against us. The powers that may be are all working against us. But we, the ones who know what is real and what is right keep fighting even with no fight left. Yes 100% we need rest. That rest is crucial. But we fight for what we know is right and we stick to whether and we build what is better whether it is here or whether it is in the world that can't be seen. Because we know what is happening can't be the only thing there is. This can't be the end. This can't be what this world was meant for. I love you brother. We were meant for greatness. Rest. The world needs you. I need you. We need you.