Change The Game

Just now I was heaving this big, honking 5 gallon jug of water into the house, and I’m not gonna lie, I was struggling a little bit to get it down the stairs. Then it dawned on me, a gallon of water is 8 pounds. 8 pounds times 5 gallons is 40 pounds. Holy shit, that’s how much weight I’ve lost.

Six months ago I was dragging an entire 5 gallon water jug worth of extra body weight around all the time. It’s kind of funny, I can’t even tell you how many times people have come up to me and poked me around my ribs and said, “don’t lose any more weight!“ If you think I’m talking directly about you, I’m not. Literally, everyone does this to me. And the reason I think it’s funny is because when I was going out and drinking and doing tons of party drugs and shoving my face full of whatever was in front of me, nobody ever pulled me aside and said, “hey, I noticed you seem to be treating your body like shit. Maybe don’t do that?” It’s funny but in a sad way. As a culture, we have made it very taboo to talk to people about their destructive behavior and, somehow, we have simultaneously normalized questioning people who are extremely focused on their health. 

I’ve had a couple of conversations over the past few days with different friends regarding other friends and their unhealthy relationship with substances and their own bodies. This was by no means gossipy, it’s rooted in concern. We’re not spring chickens anymore, but some of us are still out there partying like we’re 23. There are people who I love very, very much who I have watched slip into a state of utter self destruction. It’s not unusual for me to get freaked out at parties or festivals because I’m worried about a whole handful of my friends who I think might be pushing their bodies past their limits. It would really fuck me up beyond belief if any of them died. What’s terrifying is that it’s not anywhere near out of the question. I’m not being silly, I’m not being overdramatic. I think there’s a pretty good likelihood that we’re going to start losing people. We’ve already lost some really amazing humans and it fucking sucks. I think we can all agree on that.

If there’s some part of you that is feeling called out, if you feel like maybe this message is directed at you, please fucking think about that. If you’re reading this, you’re probably part of my big, beautiful chosen family and so I can tell you, without a doubt, that you are loved. And I can tell you, without a doubt, that it would tear some people right the fuck up if you weren’t here. I can’t tell you to stop doing what you’re doing or to change your habits. All I can tell you is that hearts would break if you were gone. 

This isn’t exactly where I thought I was going with this when I started., but I’m glad it’s where I went. Partying is so much fun. We are some fun ass motherfuckers. We throw insane events and we get down like nobody’s damn business. I used to think I couldn’t have fun unless I was on drugs or drinking. And to tell you the truth, for the first two or three months after I quit doing everything, I was struggling. I really wasn’t enjoying myself all that much when I was out. But then something happened. My chemicals balanced out. My body’s ability to produce its own happy chemicals came back online. Getting physically fit and straightening out my diet fixed a lot of my hormonal bullshit. My depression went away.

This summer, I went to one of those big parties in the woods that we have and I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol. I didn’t have so much as one puff of weed or anything else. I took a few mindful yoga nidra naps. Admittedly, I had more than my fair share of coffee and I snacked on some sugary stuff, but other than that I was completely substance free. I stayed up until 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning every night. I laughed so hard my face hurt in the same way it usually hurts on those fun party drugs, except it was just natural. I was completely loopy from staying up so late and hanging with my best friends. I absolutely felt high… But I wasn’t. Or was I? 

Here’s a little bit of nerdy information. In order for any substance that you put into your body to actually have an affect on you, it has to be able to attach to a receptor that your body already has. That means that in most cases your body produces a matching chemical to that fake one that you’re ingesting. (Yes, my science friends, I know that there are some receptors that are designed for exogenous substances, and yes, I know that pot is one of them.) But serotonin? Oxytocin? We make that shit. And when you take the fake version you’re telling your body, “hey, you don’t have to make that anymore, we’re getting it from outside of us.“ And so your body stops producing that chemical. Then, if you stop taking the fake, exogenous version, you’re going to have a shitty three months where your body is just asking you where the fuck the good shit is. But then, it’s going to realize that the outside source is gone and, not always – but in most cases, your body will say, “OK, I guess we’ve got to do this on our own.“ And slowly but surely you will start getting high without drugs. Your body will start producing those happy chemicals again. And if you exercise you’re going to get even more of them. And if you eat real food instead of bullshit you’re going to have all the ingredients stocked on the shelves in your body to make them way better than any Walter White ass motherfucker in his RV in North Georgia can.

I’m not saying any of this to make anybody feel bad. To the contrary, I want you to feel good. I want you to feel really good. Genuinely good. The kind of good that doesn’t make you feel bad for three whole fucking days after you feel good. And I want you to live. I don’t wanna bury my fucking friends. I love you and I want you here for a long ass time. We’ve got a lot of partying to do. Let’s do it right. 

#pleasedontdie