Daybreak

It was the destruction of “Jade’s Cult”, aka Jetpack, which was an implosion leading me emotionally astray from my then partner and our mutual best friend. A hole in my heart formulated when my safety in this trio got threatened by an metaphoric earthquake in our home. This was really a catalyst which broke me down, but yet again, my perseverance and attachment to myself in relation to my tribe, would steer me afloat.

There’s tearing down a dream, and then there’s watching a dream fall. 

My boyfriend and I were residing in my mom’s apartment when my babysitting gig was going well, so we decided to get a place. In January 2021, we had been on lockdown together the entire time. The financial situation of my bf was one red flag I didn’t disqualify him for, in the name of love over money, but this theme would be to my detriment time and time again. Plus, really- heyman, thanks for saving my life. I mean, your enabling and lack of emotional availability initially is why I got lost in a crippling addiction, but sticking by my side through it to get beyond it is a number one justification keeping us together.

Knowing my job would be seasonal, as the woman I babysat for was pregnant and I was hired for a school year. Come summer, with the kindergartner off and the newborn here, my role would be cherished through its due time only. That said, because my past boyfriend is a chronically broke person, as his criminal record disqualifies from getting any job, I had to set us up with a roommate, for financial security.

A reference of my bf was his buddy, a guy his age who collects disability, a settlement he got 20 years ago, and would provide a paper check for half the rent. Okay, let’s try it. When the 3 of us moved into Lindenwold, our hopes and goals were clear: Jade, do not relapse; stay being Ms. Jade. Pax, she loves you, keep it up. Spot, play your video game and be a good dawg. We decided to consider our home a “small collective”, not an official intentional community, but a cool, chill, open, house. The region of Virginia we met is really just a place where people put LLCs on their houses and market it like rest stops for interesting wanderers. While we wouldn’t run our home as a casting call, we would agree on the name of our residence to be “Jetpack”, in order to personify the spirit of the community we originated from.

It was a fulfilled aspect of my life I’d been desiring. My own house! This ‘single-family-home’ was a perfect design for us, and I instantly began turning it into my artist palace. Late Winter / early Spring, I earned every dime; pax did nothing to generate income, but like i said, my delusional give-and-take card took his tie to my heart and gave up my care for much else. Tho, by the beginning of May, when we showed up to the local farmers market uninvited and gave away simple twisted balloons with a basket for your dollars for them, we made $300 in three hours, and we both had a new job.

My inspiration (promise? haha) to be a balloon artist fell perfectly into place during this chapter. I was ready, the world was ready, it was ideal. Never had I a position which felt so accurately me. This was my own project, without annoying coworkers, where my performer personality and positive regard for children would shine brilliantly. It was easy, fun, and built my confidence to ensure me off a bad road forever. When the manager of the farmers market kindly approved us being there, and my business card got us many more shows, my identity and sense of belonging was at its peak.

Through the summer and fall, it was a primetime of my life. Our trio loved one another more during this era than ever before. Out of the hell of quarantine, off drugs, connected to our home and amazingly successful balloons, and still having a remote and fond connection to twin oaks commune. Hey my old communards, remember me, the “hot-in-psychotik” poet who got booed off stage and collapsed? She’s back! Standing taller, looking hotter, and recovered from the worst of mental illness.

 

California taught me bipolar is like gladiator sandals- in style! Lol. But Virginia showed me why, absent of the arts, mental illness is a crime you committed, either legally or socially. My two episodes in each state were depictive of both sides of my condition: A spiritual awakening; &;  A lost touch with reality based in wrecked logic. In hindsight, my rock bottom is the lesson sourcing my everlasting sobriety. The addiction I exemplified out west was child's play in comparison to the busted brain I had down south. Severity can save you; on the run from ever dropping down so low again, you will exclusively catch me free from dependence on anything but clean air.

November 2021 was when my relationship with paxus and spotdog would change, nonconsensually. My boyfriend came out with something one night when i got in from nannying. 

“I need to leave to go back to virginia. We will visit each other on the weekends. Bye.”

I crashed. I am not signing up for that kind of partnership. Leave me, when our balloon season is fading out due to winter weather, and leave me with this damn dog without you, and leave me to “work” on a farm, and abort our satisfying lifestyle, and leave me empty emotionally. My tie had been severed.

“You only nanny on tuesdays wednesdays and thursdays, you can drive down to see me, i’ll take the trains to you, we’ll make it work.”

   

A condition of me feeling love for someone is living with them. I basically moved in on the second date when I joined the intentional community. We were 2 and half years together, and I don’t like reversing our trajectory by turning us into a ‘part-time partnership’. I hated the new road we were about to embark on. I knew I couldn't end our relationship altogether because of this, as I was still deeply rooted in him, and he still loved me too. But his firm commitment to his community was an attachment I couldn't touch. This man fought me tooth and nail, verbal abuse yo talking about, “I have been doing twin oaks for 25 years and you come along recently, you don’t trump my fixation on my livelihood.” 

I was stuck. I could the hear point: “It’s my cult; I cannot leave. That’s my choice; some people get married, I made my life around twin oaks. I'm the manager here and my life depends on it because I cannot get hired in America, nor get housing in any other structure. The pandemic displaced me, I had to save your life, and now I'm moving back. My identity is set in stone. You are reflective of thinking in the same way - your identity, balloon shark girl now living in her own Kitchen Sink, is as unchangeable as me being PaxCalta living in the Commune. Our sense of purpose needs to be in proper settings. My dream is to be buried on the grounds of my property I work so hard to belong to; not to ascend in our partnership. My role with tons of other people overrides mine with just you. Our togetherness will continue, just under a different shape.”

Fine. Better than nothing, no one, or to quit the offgrid broadway play i'm starring in with this whole scenario. This was the first instance when I knew my “intergenerational partnership” was failing. One person has an open 35 years ahead of them, and one person is closed from their past 35 years. We are doing it wrong! Even despite the age gap, if two people are not understanding their joint growth as a unit, it won’t work out. But especially, our whole flippin’ deal is out of order! Ummm, hellooo, I’m so young and beautiful you enthusiastically bid farewell to your old life for a new one enlivened by me! Ummm, hellooo, you are so wise and grateful for me as a dream come true I dedicate my life with you, and after you, to you! Again this is sort of the basis of every partnership, but a quality enhanced in considering the age gap. Me n my hopeful expectations, well, lets just say our future beholds the unknown at this point in the story.

Fallen dream. I tore down Ventura, I tore down Virginia, but my Jetpack fell down catastrophically when he split our relationship into distance. 

Nevertheless, she persisted. Looking back later, I recognized the reason this catalyst made perfect sense, in true fashion of the Universe never taking anything away from you, only creating space for something greater.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ to be continued ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~