The Guide: Best of Sacramento

The city of trees, the nation’s farm-to-fork capital, this is Sacramento or “Sactown”, my childhood home. 

Best Food in Sacramento

Asian

• Kru- best for their house made pork gyoza, Australian Wagyu, and extensive sashimi/nigiri offerings
• Mikuni- best for their BBQ tuna appetizer and extensive list of sushi rolls
• Kodaiko Ramen- best for their karaage (Japanese fried chicken with lemon and tajin mayo) and the tonkotsu-gyokai ramen
• Frank Fats- best for their brandy fried chicken and honey & walnut prawns
• The Coconut on T- best for their drunken noodles and pad Thai

Italian

• Biba- best for their spaghetti alla carbonara
• Pizza Supreme Being- best for their vegan cheese pizza
• Hot Italian- best for their #11 Ligabue pizza (add prosciutto and pine nuts, you won’t regret it)
• One Speed- best for their pizzas and herbed fries with aioli
• Masullo- best for their rosemary bread with dipping oil and pizza
• Allora- best for their Parmesan risotto
• Paesano’s-best for their pork fusilli
• Waterboy- best for their deviled eggs and service

Burgers

• LowBrau- best for their mini corn dogs, duck fat fries, and LB burger
• Beast & Bounty- best for their Parker house rolls with cultured butter and Beast Burger (lunch menu only)
• Willie’s Burgers- best for their burgers, hot dogs, onion rings, and Neapolitan milkshake
• Samuel Horne’s Tavern (Folsom)- best for their Johnny Cash burger
• The Red Rabbit Kitchen and Bar

American

• The Rind- best for their lobster macaroni & cheese, cheeseboards, the T-Brie-D grilled cheese, and the twisted classic grilled cheese
• Ella- best for their wood fired bone marrow appetizer
• Tower Cafe- best for their Thai steak salad and brunch food (also great dessert selection)
• Bacon & Butter- best for their grilled cheese benedict, biscuit sandwich, and biscuits & gravy
• Sellands- best for their goat cheese and apple salad (and their $25 dinners with a bottle of wine)
• Cafe Bernardo-best for eggs benedict on the brunch menu, the salmon BLT, and their housemade Tupelo honey lemonade
• Paragarys- best for their house made bread, rosemary pappardelle, and Wagyu bavette steak
• Canon (menu changes regularly)

Southern

• South- best for their Petey’s fried chicken (Nashville style or regular), and the chicken & andouille gumbo. (On weekends best for their chicken & waffles on the brunch menu)
• Urban Roots Brewing and Smokehouse- best for their Southern fried fish (cornmeal crusted catfish) and pork ribs
• Fixins Soul Kitchen- best for their catfish nuggets, chicken & waffles, and candied yams (their Koolaid pickles are bomb too)

Mexican

• Zocalo- best for their baja fish tacos
• Centro- best for their guacamole and happy hour offerings
• Chando’s Tacos (Arden location)- best for tacos
• Mayahuel- best for their mole poblano o pipan con pollo and tacos poblanos de arrachera
• Oscars Very Mexican Food- best for their California burrito
• La Flor De Michoacan- best for papusas

Sandwiches

• Roxie Deli & Barbecue- best for their sandwiches (amazing Dutch crunch bread) and macaroni salad
• La Bonne Soupe Cafe- best for their french onion soup and warm brie & prosciutto sandwich
• Cafe Rolle- best for their sandwiches and creme brulee
• Soloman’s Delicatessen- best for their pastrami sandwich
• Jamie’s Bar and Grill- best for their clam chowder and garlic steak sandwich

Vegan/Vegetarian

• Vibe Health Bar- best for smoothies and Acai bowls
• Sun and Soil- best for fresh pressed juices
• Revolution Wines- best for their buffalo cauliflower and Beyond burger
• Burger Patch- best for their almond milk milkshakes and grilled chocolate chip cookies
• Sunflower Drive in Natural Food Restaurant- best for their nut burger and nutty taco
• Backbone Cafe- best for their vegan zuccado pasta
• Veg Cafe

Dessert

• Rick’s Dessert Diner
• Ettore’s Bakery and Cafe
• Milk Money- offers vegan ice cream & donuts
• Real Pie Company
• Vic’s Ice Cream
• Marie’s Donuts- voted best maple bars in Northern California
• The Parlor
• Osaka-Ya
• Ginger Elizabeth Chocolates
• Cookies & Milk
• Freeport Bakery

Best Cocktails in Sacramento

• Ella- Gin and Tonic
• Ten Ten Room- Blueberry Bloom
• Waterboy- Corps Reviver #2
• Hook & Ladder Manufacturing Company- Bloody Mary
• Mayahuel- Mango Y Chile (frozen)
• Zocalo- blackberry margarita (pitchers available)
• Centro- infused margaritas
• Midtown Cantina Alley- watermelon margarita
• Jungle Bird- The Jungle Bird
• Cider House
• Two Rivers Cider- offers flights of 4 ciders (pick your own flavors)
• Bottle & Barlow
• LowBrau
• Revival at the Sawyer- Garden Grove
• Shangri-La (Fair Oaks)

Best Coffee Shops in Sacramento

• The Mill
• Tupelo Coffee House (iced white mocha and bowl of soul)
• Temple Coffee Roasters (Mexican mocha and The Enlightenment)
• Insight Coffee Roasters
• Old Soul at the Weatherstone
• Milka Coffee Roasters
• Identity Coffees
• Chocolate Fish Coffee Roasters
• Camellia Coffee Roasters (vegan or non-vegan Horchata cold brew)
• Philz Coffee (mint mojito or iced coffee rose)
• Station 38 Coffee (Vietnamese iced coffee)
• Pachamama Coffee
• Bloom Coffee & Tea (Roseville) (iced vanilla latte)

Best Shopping in Sacramento

• Article Consignment Boutique (secondhand designer, mens & womens)
• Cuffs (clothing, mens & womens)
• Public Land Store (home decor and succulents)
• Propagate (plant nursery)
• Old Gold (vintage clothing, mens & womens)
• Racks Vintage Boutique (clothing, mens & womens)
• MediumRare Records
• Evangeline’s Costume Mansion
• The AllSpicery (herbs & spices)
• V. Millers Meats (butcher shop)
• Ice Blocks on R Street
• Kicx Unlimited (new & consignment sneakers, men’s fashion)
• PLA Skate (speciality skateboard, clothing, & sneaker retailer)
• DOCO (Downtown Commons)

Best Activities in Sacramento

• Asha Urban Baths
• The rose garden in McKinley Park
• Movies at the historical Tower Theatre or Crest Theatre
• Crocker Art Muesum
• California State Railroad Muesum
• Kings games at the Golden 1 Center
• Apple Hill (seasonal, outside of Sacramento)
• Old Sacramento underground tours
• Dovewood Court and the Fab Fourties lights in December
• Second Saturdays
• Midtown farmer’s market on Saturdays (9 a.m.- 1 p.m.)
• B Street Theatre
• Sacramento Pipe Works
• Motown Mondays at LowBrau
• Trivia at Cider House on Tuesday nights
• Trivia at Streets on Sunday nights
• Karaoke at Pine Cove

 

“White knight syndrome” is a legitimate psychological term. I learned it one afternoon when I was sitting in my therapist’s office, crying my eyes in the aftermath of one of my many failed semi-long-term romantic relationships. It refers to an individual who resorts to a pattern of unhealthy, toxic relationships because of past trauma that they have experienced. Typically the syndrome will be onset from the death or loss of a romantic partner. In other cases, it will be dependent on an individual’s deeper sense of insecurity or one’s attachment style in childhood. The hardest lesson I have ever had to learn is the fact that you cannot save another human being. Furthermore, attempting to do so will unfortunately not save you in the process either. Pushing aside personal insecurities or mental health issues will inevitably only cause these problems to further escalate and will ultimately destroy the relationship.

Constant self-improvement is crucial in order to have both a successful and a healthy intimate relationship. The saying that you must love yourself before you can possibly love someone else may seem like a total cliche, but it has been proven to be a true statement. There is no doubt that love is powerful; but it is not like a vaccine for a disease, it is not a cure. For years I have fallen under the category of an individual who has this so-called “white knight syndrome.” I realized that I was ultimately an unhealthy partner in many of my long-term romantic relationships. I failed repeatedly to comprehend the fact that you cannot neglect your own mental health in order to meet all of the needs and wants of another human being. I have learned that you should not have to be someone’s therapist along with being someone’s boyfriend. Additionally, I have learned that you cannot put your all into a relationship with a person who does not or realistically can not reciprocate your feelings.

I made many mistakes in my past relationships. At times, I was emotionally manipulative and cruel. I played the game of push and pull. I used extravagant material gifts in order to show my love and affection rather than using my words and actions. I let my insecurities about my physical appearance override my conscious mind. I acted out in an extremely jealous manner in misconstrued situations. I continuously subconsciously chose the same type of woman that I felt I could “fix” or “save” in order to avoid facing the reality of my own declining mental health. I still to this day find myself drawn to women who are emotionally unavailable or emotionally unstable. It is a pattern I am still working on breaking on a daily basis. For this reason, I know it is in my best interest to continue to work on my mental and physical health so that I can feel both confident as well stable enough to maintain a romantic relationship.

The majority of the time being alone surprisingly feels natural to me. However, there are undoubtedly moments of debilitating loneliness- particularly at night time, being surrounded by happy couples, or seeing a steady flow of couple posts on social media. In these moments I feel extremely isolated and ask myself the dreaded question-will I ever find my person or will I be eternally alone? Realistically, I know that someday I will. I also know that at this point in my life it does not matter because I just am not ready to date, even if it is casual. I do not possess the capacity to feel responsible for another person’s emotions. My heart is still healing from the last loss. Although I may no longer be tethered to the person, I am still tethered to many of the memories we shared together. I am also still tethered to a lot of the emotional trauma that we caused one another. Therapy has been helping immensely. Spending time with friends and falling back in love with the passions I began to neglect after the loss has too.

Personally, I think one of the worst decisions you can make for yourself is to enter into a relationship out of loneliness or desperation; it only inevitably ends up hurting yourself along with that other person. I initially considered doing it myself, but it only brought forward feelings of inadequacy and made my triggers more apparent. I try to constantly remind myself that this time is not about finding someone new to pour my love into, this time is about rebuilding my life again independently. It is about healing. It is telling myself that it is okay to still be healing in general. It is asking myself honestly why I still have these feelings of resentment, feelings of love, feelings of sadness. It is forgiving myself for having this whirlwind of leftover feelings, and forgiving myself for all of the mistakes I made. It is about mastering coping mechanisms, continuing to go to therapy, overcoming my triggers, and being entirely transparent with those around me, even if it means I end up disappointing someone by saying no. They say that it takes the heart twice as long to heal as the time you spent with someone. However, everyone’s time line of healing is unique and individual. That is the most important thing to remember.

 

When Love Becomes Obsessive

Love, similarly to all pleasurable substances in existence, has the potential to transform into an addiction. Mutual interests and physical attraction are put on the back burner, as an intense effort to gain control over the other person begins to emerge. A little over a year ago I became consciously aware of my own personal addiction to my ex girlfriend. I made numerous dramatic and outwardly pathetic attempts in order to gain back that sense of genuine love that I had lost with her so very long ago. I simply could not fathom the possibility that she no longer loved me in the way that I loved her. Her capacity to love me had been inevitably drained. She was tired of the constant pattern of ups and downs and running around in circles waiting on each other to change, as was I. The loss of physical and emotional intimacy left me in a permanent state of madness. I did not feel like myself. As I told one of my closest friends, I rapidly transformed into “a shell of a man.” I became disinterested in my passions, my writings became hyper-focused on her and the devastating experience of the loss, the city I lived in no longer felt the same, I could not remember who I was before she had become such a significant part of my daily life and routine.

I lost myself in a co-dependent relationship that I now wholeheartedly realize was a full-blown addiction. Following the initial loss, I became regrettably obsessive in my behavioral patterns. I would cut her off repeatedly, only to reach a breaking point each instance in which I would attempt to rekindle the flame that had been burned out. I would find myself in constant debate regarding whether or not I was still in love with her, or if I even had any love for her as a person left. I blocked her on nearly every platform of social media along with her phone number, yet my curiosity would get the best of me and I would continue to view her blog. I would anxiously search for any possible potential signs that she still had some sort of evident feelings left over towards me. I would write poems about her out of desperation, hoping that she would read them and come running back into my arms. My brain was entirely consumed by rumination, with thoughts of her and other men being involved intimately. As a result of these intrusive and semi-illogical thoughts, my overall sense of self confidence began to rapidly spiral. I genuinely believed that her no longer wanting me in a romantic way was a direct correlation of my own self-worth. I felt inadequate in every possible manner; sexually, physically, and most significantly, emotionally.

I believed that she no longer wanted me sexually because I did not have complete male anatomy. The majority of the time I would have to initiate our intimate encounters. She would often say she just wasn’t in the mood, and that it wasn’t at all personal. I knew that it was personal. I believed that she no longer needed me emotionally because my emotional capacity infinitely exceeded hers and she could not reciprocate. She told me that I expected too much out of her. She told me that I was dramatic and too emotional. She said that I always wanted to talk about depressing things and that I could never be light. She stopped being real with me and opening up to me honestly about her emotions. I believed that she no longer desired me physically because she stopped calling me her beautiful boy. She stopped kissing me at stop lights. She stopped rubbing my back and washing my hair for me in the shower. She stopped staring deep into my eyes. There was no light in them anymore when I would look at her. In combination, all of these beliefs caused me to feel absolutely and utterly worthless. I no longer felt that I had a sense of purpose in the world. I had been living for almost three years on and off for the existence of two people and now I was left completely heart broken and alone.

Realistically, her inability to love me in the capacity that I wanted to was a reflection of her own perception of herself. She did not love herself and therefore, was unable to love me in the way that I knew I deeply wanted and deserved. She simply did not know how to love someone else. Her ability to love was limited, whereas mine was boundless. I have many personal regrets regarding our relationship. There are numerous things that I genuinely wish I had done differently, things I said that I wish I had not let escape my mouth. Despite my regrets, I know for an absolute fact that I loved her. I loved her passionately and fiercely, physically intimately and emotionally. At one point in time, the love was reciprocated and it was something that was so incredibly and innately beautiful. That love gradually faded and became toxic, it became obsessive, and it was both devastating as well as debilitating. However, it should not have caused me to give up on myself and to ultimately stop me from giving myself the love that I deserved.

Everything I held within myself, all of the light and the dreams and the love, existed long before she was a part of my life. It continued to exist after she was gone, despite the light appearing to seem so dim. It will continue to exist. I will continue to exist. I have survived far greater and far more intense storms. I refuse to let myself be destroyed by one, even if that storm was the greatest love of my life, you.

 

 

Love is a miraculous entity. It is what we as human beings ultimately universally strive to find; in a manner that is often times portrayed as being relentless and borderline obsessive. Romantic relationships are idealized in such an intensely grandiose way that we tend to feel unfulfilled if we are not a part of one. Being alone is viewed as being an individual who is undoubtedly undesirable or somehow abnormal, rather than one who is being independent as well as emotionally strong. Perhaps, this is why the current generation has fallen under the impression that being loved is equivalent to one’s own sense of self-worth. Specifically, when a person is loved in a particular way that would be labeled as romantic and/or intimate. Films, TV shows, social media, and music have each played a significant part in this epidemic. I call it an epidemic, because that is what it inevitably has become. We have maximally prioritized intimate relationships and as a direct result, we have lost sight of what should hold the utmost importance in our lives-ourselves. If the personal relationship with ourselves is unavoidably the longest we will ever have, why not consistently work on it? Why not validate ourselves? Why not be kind to ourselves? Why not tell ourselves that our needs and wants are equally as meaningful as the needs and wants of our partners?

The reality is that our own needs as well as wants are exceptionally important. If we are not tending to these needs and wants, we will certainly possess no capacity to fulfill the needs and wants of our partners. Furthermore, you should not expect your partner to fulfill every single one of these needs and wants, as they have their own to tend to in addition to some of yours. I firmly believe that a partner should never have to be a significant other and a therapist. It is crucial that when engaging in an intimate relationship that there are clear boundaries set in place and that open communication is always a key factor. Moreover, it is absolutely imperative that each individual involved in the partnership has a stable support system that exists outside of the realm of their significant other. A relationship that lacks boundaries and open communication will result in one of two unhealthy outcomes-a relationship built on co-dependency or a relationship built on mistrust.

Some people say that having expectations is a one-way street to heartbreak, but I strongly disagree with this notion. There is nothing wrong with having a clear vision of what you realistically want out of a relationship and what you definitively deserve out of a relationship. And yes, there is an evident difference between the two. There are levels of capacity regarding the ability to love; some individuals have a higher capacity while others have a lower capacity. There are a plethora of reasons behind this fact, whether it be a result of a childhood trauma or a specific personality trait or multiple traits. An individual who possesses a lower capacity to love is not a correlated reflection of yourself as a person, or of your own sense of self-worth. The only expectation I believe will inescapably end in heartbreak if you hold onto it is that the person you love will change for you, even if the reasoning is beyond your control. Certain traits that individuals have are permanent. Traits that are inherited. Traits that are a part of the person’s personality. You can tell your partner infinite times that you would be happier if they would change x, y, or z, but the fact of the matter is that if the trait is inherited or it is a part of their personality, they will not view it as something that needs to be changed.

Slow dancing in circles, desperately waiting on each other to change. I firmly believe that this is a common scenario that takes play within co-dependent relationships. The issue at hand is that this slow dancing becomes incredibly tiresome after a period of time, and it typically evolves into some growth of resentment. It takes a devastatingly emotional toll on both individuals’ mental and physical health. It creates unhealthy power dynamics and causes intense, negative emotions to arise. If you cannot accept someone for their entirety, for both their flaws as well as the parts of them that initially attracted you to them, you should not be with that person. It is as simple as that. Despite the fact that we as humans are naturally inclined to want what we cannot have, whether it be the thrill of the chase or an underlying sense of emotional unavailability, it is detrimentally toxic for our own well-beings. The person we are meant to be with will want to be with us and they will not need any sort of convincing. They will endlessly love and support us, while simultaneously maintaining a stable and strong relationship with themselves. Both individuals needs and wants will be met, if not surpassed.

It is more than okay to be alone. You do not need another human being to complete you, despite societal pressures that are designed to make you feel that way. If there is some sort of void within you that exists, and you feel another person would fill it, fill it with your own perception of self-love and self-worth. Learn what your own needs and wants are, and never label them as being unrealistic or unimportant. It is in this development of a healthy relationship with yourself that you will discover what you want and what you deserve out of a romantic relationship. Love yourself first, without conditions, and this will show others how to love you unconditionally in return.

 

The term “emotional abuse” is defined as, “Any kind of abuse that is emotional rather than physical in nature. It can include anything from verbal abuse and constant criticism to more subtle tactics, such as intimidation, manipulation, and refusal to ever be pleased. Emotional abuse can take many forms. Three general patterns of abusive behavior include aggressing, denying, and minimizing”; “Withholding is another form of denying. Withholding includes refusing to listen, refusing to communicate, and emotionally withdrawing as punishment.”

I survived an emotionally abusive relationship. If you were reading this, you would say that I was “just being dramatic.” That I was “playing the role of the victim.” That I always played the role of the victim in the conflicts that occurred within our relationship. You constantly told me that I was too much; meaning in your words, that I was more emotional than you possessed the capacity to possibly handle. By repeatedly telling me this, I began to wholeheartedly believe the intense, manipulative power behind those words. This launched a plethora of negative beliefs about myself as a man, and furthermore, my ability to have an authentic sense of confidence within a healthy relationship. I began to view myself as an effortlessly damaged man, someone with an intensely fragile heart that immensely exceeded the volume of my body. I began to feel as though I would never be a part of an intimate relationship where the capacity of my love was reciprocated. You reaped every single potential benefit of an intimate, romantic relationship in existence; yet, when it came down to the label, you indefinitely refused to call me your boyfriend. You would constantly chastise me for speaking openly with my friends and my family about the indefinitely unfair power dynamics that existed between us. It wasn’t that I was wrong, because there is absolutely no doubt in my mind to this day that those dynamics were excruciatingly prominent. You simply could not fathom the idea that what you were putting me through was emotional abuse, and that it was firmly validated by those that loved me. You could not stand the fact that those around me were beginning to see you in a new light; as a person that was capable of exhibiting such psychologically harmful patterns of behavior. You did not sincerely care about the reality of the situation, which was that you were causing someone you claimed to “love” such agonizingly, debilitating psychological pain with both your behaviors as well as your words.

In the beginning, you instantaneously made me feel as though I was special. You showered me with infinite compliments and prioritized me with a sense of the utmost importance. You learned and memorized all of my absolute favorite things as though you were prepared to be quizzed on them sometime in the near future. You opened up to me like a book, yearning to be read and furthermore, to be understood. Longing to have certain lines highlighted and analyzed in the empty spaces next to the paragraphs. You wanted me to love you simply in order to permeate the endless void inside of yourself that could not be filled by your own perception of self-love. You put me up on a pedestal as though I was your God; you worshiped the very ground that I walked on and recited the words I love you to me as you would with scripture. You washed the dirt from my back, told me that I was your beautiful boy, and slept curled up comfortably beside me like a house cat each and every night. You made numerous efforts to initiate close relationships with my friends and my family. You always told them how much you loved and cared for me, as if you knew deep down that they needed convincing. You opened up to your family about your love for me, despite knowing that it could potentially create a divide. You introduced me to your friends and visibly displayed public signs of affection in front of them. However, once it dawned on you how madly in love with you I truly was, the wall that I had cautiously and gradually broken down was immediately built right back up again. You shut me out of your heart completely and shattered mine in the process. I did not know how to handle the loss. I was left feeling totally and utterly blind sighted. And you had the audacity to ask me after my world had done a complete 180 if we could remain friends. You claimed that you still loved me, but that you simply could not meet the expectations that I held. It was not that simple.

Reflecting back on the entirety of our experience together, I should have seen the evidently visible warning signs. The fact that you would willingly let me show you off to the world on social media but kept my presence in your life in the eyes of the world minimal in comparison. The fact that you did not know what it indefinitely felt like to be in love; that you often doubted if you had ever even remotely experienced it. The fact that you left me feeling vulnerable and shamed during some of the most emotionally intense experiences within my life; such as prior to my transitional surgery. The fact that you only seemed to exhibit a sense of strong empathy when it benefited you, rather than supporting me in the genuine way that I did endlessly and tirelessly for you. The fact that you physically assaulted me and used liquor as an excuse for your abusive behavior. The fact that you made jokes about my biological gender identity and always said that it was okay because it was you, because it was you, and you were only kidding. The fact that you love bombed me in the beginning of our relationship only to end it with progressively more damaging behaviors such as gas lighting and manipulation. In all honesty, I do not regret the three years of my life that I spent with you. What it all taught me, in conclusion, is that you did not give me the love that I know now for certain that I deserve. You wanted to be missed more than you wanted to be loved. I wanted to love you more than I wanted to miss you. We may have begun as magnets, effortlessly attracted to one another, but the sensation, the intense fire between us, has inevitably died out.

To this day, I suffer from the repercussions of the psychological abuse that you put me through. I often find myself doubting whether or not you were the one that was truly at fault regarding our situation. Some days I wonder what the outcome would have been if I had only been able to be less sensitive, less demanding, or held fewer expectations. I struggle tremendously with the possibility of sustaining a healthy, non-emotionally abusive relationship with another human being without ultimately getting burned. Even when I am shown love, the emotionally charged part of my brain that has been damaged feels as though I am undeserving of that love, despite the rational part knowing that I am more than deserving. Furthermore, I analyze the underlying meaning of that love being expressed to me; I question whether or not it is wholeheartedly genuine or if it is simply mimicked, as yours was. These are all things that I must diligently work on daily in order to survive.

I refuse to be your supply anymore, or a victim to your abuse.

The day that I walked out on you for good was the day that I realized my true sense of self-worth.

You could have said you loved me a million times until you were blue in the face, but you did not value me.

You did not love me.

You only loved the way that I loved you. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Drug of Choice

“It was like being in a car with the gas pedal slammed down to the floor and nothing to do but hold on and pretend to have some semblance of control. But control was something I’d lost a long time ago.” – Tweak, Nic Sheff

Some people get addicted to methamphetamine, to heroin, to prescription pills, to alcohol. The feeling of getting drunk, getting high, the calm that rushes over when you finally get your next fix. For me, a person was my drug of choice. The feeling of our lips and bodies melting together, the way that she could touch my soul without even putting a single finger on my skin. I became addicted to the way that she made me feel. Even as I was lying to my friends and family about my whereabouts, even when I was making excuse after excuse about how she was going to change-how we were both going to change. When I would make an impulsive decision to cut her off, I would eventually end up relapsing. It was one blow after the next. This was a pattern that continued for several years. I repeatedly relapsed on her just as an addict would on heroin or methamphetamine.

It wasn’t the feeling of being alone that I could not handle. I made my apartment my own again, I took down the pictures off of the walls and burned everything that had even the slightest trace of her presence. It was the simple fact of knowing that she was out there, living and breathing and existing even in my absence. It was the reminders of our memories that haunted every single street of this city. Ashes scattered on the pavement everywhere. The slow and intensely, undeniably painful deterioration of our relationship. Just as it is excruciatingly easy for an addict to find a dope supply after a period of sobriety, it is just as easy to unblock a number or see that person and succumb to your weaknesses. An addict in recovery will ruminate constantly about their drug of choice-they will successfully convince themselves that one drink or one more hit will not cause them to enter into a full on spiral. Just as I have thought before that one kiss or one conversation will not cause me to fall back into the depths of my own addiction.

I have been able to stop smoking. I have been able to stop drinking. I have been able to overcome a dependency on Xanax. I have not been able to ever successfully quit her indefinitely. 24 days into my recovery from her I genuinely thought that I had built up enough mental strength. I had surpassed the 21 day mark in which doing things differently becomes a habit. Changes in the brain begin to occur. I was wrong. I relapsed on her, once again, and all it took was one meeting. Even with the most incredibly dedicated support system, even with regular therapy sessions, even with numerous coping mechanisms under my belt, I gave into my addiction.

I am starting right back where I started, from day 1. I thought that I could overcome this addiction alone. I thought that I would be able to stay strong and resist the constant urges to be around her. I managed to completely fuck up my 24 day progress in only under an hour. Our lips met and I felt everything that I had been desperately missing and dreaming about for nights on end. I was instantly and utterly intoxicated. The question I now have for myself is, was it really worth it? Was it worth the immense amount of guilt and resentment that I feel towards myself as well as towards my emotionally charged decision making? The simple answer is that it was not. Even after experiencing a rush of such intense euphoria, I know that this person does not have the ability to love me in the way that I deserve. Furthermore, I know that this person is not the one I am meant to be with, as deeply and desperately as I want her to be. She may have been at one point in time, but our relationship became far too toxic and co-dependent in order for it to ever be healthy ever again. I am aware of that reality. I am aware of my addiction. I am aware of the overwhelming sense of power that this person has over my mental health, my physical health, and my overall sense of well-being.

The first step in overcoming addiction is admitting that you are powerless to your drug of choice, and that you cannot stop on your own. As much as it pains me to not have this person in my life, I know deep in my heart that it is inevitably the only possible way that I can ever reach recovery. I can no longer bear the idea of being a disappointment to others in my life that I love, and more significantly, I can no longer bear the idea of being a disappointment to myself. Even if that means avoiding certain places, being aware of all of my triggers, and ultimately losing this person in my life forever, I know it is something that I absolutely must do. As difficult and excruciatingly heart breaking as it is going to be. They say that relapse is a part of recovery, so I am accepting the fact that I did. I am only human, and I am far from perfect. I do not believe in God, but I believe in the power of self-love and respect, the power of determination and dedication. These are all things that I must diligently work on, day in and day out, in order to successfully recover once and for all. The quality of my life depends on it.

“Fortunately I have a son, my beautiful boy
Unfortunately he is a drug addict.
Fortunately he is in recovery.
Unfortunately he relapses.
Fortunately he is in recovery again.
Unfortunately he relapses.
Fortunately he is not dead.”  – Beautiful Boy, David Sheff

 

The Sabotaging of Relationships

I have never experienced the death of a parent, or the loss of a parental unit through the process of divorce, or threatening circumstances such as physical abuse. Yet, I live my life on a daily basis with an intense fear of abandonment. It has deeply affected my most intimate interpersonal relationships; my bonds with my closest friends, family members, and romantic partners. The psychological reasoning behind the fear of abandonment is relative to all of the plausible causes I mentioned. Another possible cause is an inadequate amount of emotional support during crucial developmental years in childhood. There are common patterns that adults present to their children; such as relying on them heavily for emotional support rather than seeking out support for themselves through means of therapy or other coping mechanisms.

The fear of abandonment often results in a plethora of debilitating outcomes; such as a lack of self-esteem, an inability to control anger, anxiety, depression, and codependency. Trust is a concept that is excruciatingly difficult to understand, and furthermore, to accept. Living with a constant fear of abandonment inevitably creates invisible barriers between yourself and the ones that you love. You find yourself in a permanent state of being afraid to let people in, you assume that they will eventually leave you as time goes on. You display thought patterns and behaviors that are ultimately, self-sabotaging.  You end up pushing your loved ones away because you need constant reassurance that they are there for you both emotionally and physically. Even when they reassure you, time and time again, you do not believe them, because you are inconsolable. It creates a divide between the two of you, and then your fear can become your reality. They will still love you with everything that they have, but they will leave you. Because you cannot see how much they love you; simply because they do not seek that same level of reassurance as you do.

I have sought help for my own fear of abandonment, and it has helped me tremendously regarding my interpersonal relationships. However, that fear has not just disappeared out of the blue. It will never fully go away. It is something that I must actively work on, day in and day out, to maintain the relationships in my life and to avoid losing the people that I love. Some days, I wish I could tell the people in my life to “love me a little harder today.” But I know that this is not logically necessary, because they already do. They already do. It’s just me who needs to love myself a little harder today.

 

The Mask the World Does Not See

 

Mental health has typically always been viewed as secondary to physical health. The majority of individuals cannot fathom what it feels like to live life on a daily basis while suffering from a mental health disorder. The stigma in our society regarding mental health is so incredibly degrading that those of us who do suffer, feel as though we must do so in silence. We are called insensitive words such as “crazy” and “insane” infinite times until we begin to define ourselves with these same words that break us. When we do not address our issues head on we mask them instead, often by resorting to unhealthy coping mechanisms such as substance abuse or physical abuse to ourselves or to others. We live two completely separate lives, with a smile plastered onto our faces at school or work during the day and tears falling down our cheeks in the shower at night. The pressing issue at hand is this: how are we supposed to talk openly about our mental health issues without ultimately being or feeling judged? Furthermore, without being afraid that our most vulnerable thoughts and feelings will lead us straight through the doors of a psychiatric ward?

This issue is particularly important to me because I am a part of the population that suffers from a mental health disorder. I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder when I was fifteen, which was also the age that I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital for the first time for suicidal ideation. It did not occur to me at the time that my brain was biologically predisposed to these thoughts, nor that mental health disorders could be passed down from generation to generation. I have lost two close childhood friends to suicide, and I have seen the way it absolutely shatters the lives of everyone around them. It is a ripple effect. I saw it when I attended their funerals and grieved with their families. I saw it in my mother’s eyes when she told me that she thought she was going to have to see her son’s body scattered into fragments in a bag. That was on November 2^nd, 2016. That was the last time that I attempted suicide. I remember writing my suicide letter to my friends and family while crying in bed the night before. My final line, “My friend wrote in his suicide note that the world wasn’t ready for him. I believe that I wasn’t ready for the world.” I remember standing outside of my car and just watching everyone moving in flow around me. Couples in love holding one another, groups of friends posing for photos, children running around and playing; this beautiful, picturesque scene of life, this life that I did not feel a part of. I remember feeling completely and utterly hopeless. I remember looking over the railing and wondering how fast it would take for my body to hit the water. I remember the heavy taste of alcohol running down my throat and the bitter taste of Xanax between my teeth. I remember calling the girl that I loved and telling her that I would never see her again. I remember my best friend driving from her home in Vallejo to the Golden Gate Bridge to save my life.

I spent six days in a psychiatric hospital and gained a sense of clarity that I probably would not have ever known without that experience. With that clarity came a new appreciation for life and for my loved ones, because you never truly know what day could be their last or yours. I have learned that there is no shame in seeking help, whether it be through medication, support groups, or different forms of therapy. Likewise, there is no shame in admitting that you need to seek help in order to improve the quality of your life. Having a mental health disorder is not something to be ashamed of. What is shameful is how society dehumanizes us and makes us feel as though we are monsters. We must work progressively to change the stigma in order to ensure that there is a place to discuss mental health for the current generation and for generations to come. If there is no designated safe space, the suicide rate will not decrease and innocent lives will not be saved. The suicide rate is currently at an all-time high, especially for men and those who are a part of the LGBT+ community or other minority groups. No parent should ever have to bury their child and no one should ever die by the means of their own two hands.

Every day I look down at my left wrist and I see the two sets of initials on either side of the semi colon in the middle. The initials of two people I love, lost to suicide and potentially, to mental illness. The semi colon in the middle a reminder that my story could have ended on that day in November but did not. A reminder that my story is still being written and that I may not be able to control all of the hardships that I will inevitably endure along the way, but I am alive. I am alive and living despite my mental illnesses, and what a truly beautiful thing that is. These words are for those who are out there struggling with mental illness, these words are written proof that you are not alone. Your voices all deserve to be recognized and furthermore, heard, so that the rest of the world can see, we are human too.

An Open Letter to My Second Love That Was All of My Firsts

My second love came unexpectedly, in a particularly compromising situation. I was on a date with one of her best friends, and she was my friend’s date. There was an instantaneous feeling of warmth that submerged from within my core when I saw the radiant gleam of her smile, when I heard the sound of her laugh. That was over two years ago, and although we are no longer together, my feelings have remained the same.

She was the one who tore me open and exposed the potential that I had been refusing to take notice of since my first love left me. She was the one who showed me that intimacy is more than sex, it is the transformation of two bodies into one soul, and it is something that is truly sacred. She was the one who let me know that my identity was finally recognized and validated by the person that I loved. She was the one who taught me the true meaning behind the word sacrifice, and furthermore, behind unconditional love. She did not judge me for my mental illnesses, my flaws, or my opinions that differed from her own. She loved me for all that I was, which is more than I can say for any of my past relationships. She helped me emotionally and physically transform into the man that I am today. For that above all else, I am eternally grateful for her presence in my life.

We began as friends and eventually became lovers, in the way I believe the most successful relationships evolve. We have changed a drastic amount over the past two years of knowing one another, but the love we have for each other has continued to grow. I do not doubt that it will continue to grow and flourish, just as a rose does when it is tenderly loved and meticulously cared for. She is the reason I believe in the concept of having a soulmate, even if it means spending time apart in order to let each other develop into the best versions of ourselves. At the end of the day, I am confident that we will inevitably find our way back to each other, as the ocean and the shore do.

Love is a sacrifice. Sometimes, you have to set your love free in order to see the bigger picture clearly. Even if it breaks your heart in the process, even if it hurts. What is meant to be, will be. Time and patience are two factors I have never been good at understanding, but I am slowly learning to.

Thank you.

I love you.

I’ll be seeing you.

-Your second love

 

 

 

Lady Bird- 5 Stars for Sacramento

The ability to capture an audience through their hearts rather than their eyes, that is undoubtedly what separates a film from a masterpiece. Gretta Gerwig accomplished this effortlessly with her first film debut, Lady Bird.

When I first heard that a film set in my hometown was going to be produced, I felt a strange sense of discontent. That feeling didn’t fade away until I watched the movie at the Tower Theatre, until I sat and analyzed every aspect of the film in my car  afterwards. The majority of people only know Sacramento as the capitol of California, or as the city stuck in the middle of San Francisco and Lake Tahoe.  Often when I am visiting my family in Los Angeles and I am introduced to new people the first question they ask is, “What is there to do in Sacramento?” Sacramento has been an underappreciated city for all of my life, even by some of its very own residents, even by me. It is typically only recognized for the Tower Bridge, Old Sacramento, the Capitol building, and the somewhat recently established Golden 1 Center, home to the Sacramento Kings.

Those who are not Sacramento natives themselves do not know any more than these famous landmarks. They do not know the beauty of the tree lined streets during the autumn when the green leaves begin to transform into the deep shades of gold and crimson. They do not know the twinkling lights and candy cane colored wrapped street lights that adorn the houses of East Sacramento’s “fab 40s” neighborhood during the end of November through December. They do not know the art-deco style red and green neon sign of the Tower Theatre that can be seen from the houses on Land Park drive. They have not walked through the Capitol rose garden and imagined themselves getting married there someday. They have not driven across the Yolo County causeway and felt their hearts swell up as though they may very well explode at the mere sight of the city’s skyline at night. They do not know that Sacramento is a place of nostalgia for all of those who grew up there.

I have lived in Sacramento for almost my entire life, for almost twenty two years. In elementary school I would walk with my classmates every Friday down Riverside Boulevard to Vic’s ice cream for milkshakes, hot dog sandwiches, and chips with a side of “red sauce.” For P.E. our class would walk across the street to Land Park where we would play dodge ball and flag football on the grass as couples walked their dogs around us, as children played on the playground, as joggers made their daily routes. Some days my mom would take me to Marie’s Donuts or Freeport Bakery for treats after a long day. In high school I would meet my friends at Tupelo for an iced white mocha every morning before first period, I would go to the Bluffs in Fair Oaks to hang out and take pictures, I would go to watch movies on the weekends at the K street mall. During the summers my friends and I would go to Folsom Lake to swim, or drive out to El Dorado Hills to sit and watch the stars at “heaven.”

I always felt as though Sacramento was too small, as though I was a big fish in a very small pond. My options seemed so limited there. I hated the fact that no matter where I went, I managed to run into someone that I knew every single time. In 2014 I moved to Berkeley to attend Berkeley City College. I became adjusted to the Berkeley lifestyle much quicker than I had originally anticipated. Within the first week of school I had made a group of amazing friends, I lived in a beautiful apartment right by the U.C. campus, and I was thoroughly enjoying my classes. Despite my pleasant exterior, something was inevitably missing on the inside. I felt an indescribable sense of longing for something that I could not find, or explain. Looking back on my experience, I didn’t want to admit that what I knew exactly what I was missing at the time. It wasn’t living at home that I was missing, it wasn’t even my friends, or my parents. It was Sacramento.

I distinctly remember the drive back to Sacramento after I had left Berkeley. I was listening to John Mayer’s song “Stop This Train” off of his third studio album, Continuum. One of the verses resonated with me in particular, “Once in a while, when it’s good, it’ll feel like it should/When you’re all still around, and you’re still safe and sound, and you don’t miss a thing, ’till you cry when you’re driving away in the dark.” I had listened to this track numerous times before, but in this particular moment I understood the meaning. The truth is that when I left Sacramento I wasn’t wholeheartedly ready to go. But I had to, in order to be able to finally fully appreciate all that it truly meant to me. Even today, when I think of moving anywhere else, I know deep down in my heart that any other place will just be a stop on the train. Sacramento is, and always has been, the final destination where I will unpack my bags for good.

I applaud Gretta Gerwig for being able to capture this feeling, and furthermore, for being able to accurately portray it up on the big screen. I now realize why I was not nearly as excited about the debut of Lady Bird as all of my friends and family were. I knew without a doubt that once the movie premiered, Sacramento would no longer be a well-kept secret. Its subtle yet simultaneously overwhelming beauty would be exposed to the entire world. I now know that it is well-worth the exposure, and that the exposure is indefinitely overdue. Sacramento is the place that you want your kids to grow up in, it is the place that you want to meet the love of your life, it is the place where you want to build a family, and it is the place that you want to spend your life in all-year round, not just on holidays.

Lady Bird  will not only accurately depict what it is like to be a senior in high school, but it also shows the brutal awkwardness that can coincide with a first sexual experience, the feeling of  initially falling for someone and having your heart broken for reasons beyond your control,  the fear of leaving home to go somewhere foreign to you, the way you can both love and hate your mom at the same time, but the way the love will always override the hate. By the end of the movie these characters will not just be characters. They will be people within your own life, whether it is from the past or in the present, and the main character will most likely remind you of yourself. Even if you do not live in Sacramento, you will be able to feel the heart beat behind the city and the blood that runs through the veins of it.

In conclusion, it is absolutely imperative that you go see this movie if you haven’t already. And make sure to bring tissues, especially if you’re going to see this movie with your mom.