Idiot: Life Stories from the Creator of Help Helen Smash

by Laura Clery

Years later in Alcoholics Anonymous, I learned that this is a trait of the alcoholic. It’s either grandiose or comatose. Either I’m the best and deserve the best! or I’m a piece of shit and I’m killing myself tonight! Once you’re sober, you practice learning that you’re no better or worse than anyone else. But in this moment . . . I was feeling grandiose.

When I was alone, what the fuck was I even supposed to be doing? My solution to this crisis was to dig down into my psyche and reflect on where this pattern came from and how I could change it. JUST KIDDING! MY SOLUTION WAS TO FIND SOMEONE ELSE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

Oh, hi mother...

“Dude, you’re stressing me out! What do I do? My walls are lava and my houseplants are walking around my apartment.” I glared at the potted palm that was currently laughing at me.

Now, my conversations with Stephen about Maggie go like this: “Oh God, Maggie is pissing everywhere again.” “Cat or human?” “Cat, but perhaps human as well. I haven’t checked in with her this week.” It’s a valid question, seeing how much Maggie and I peed in public as kids.

Laura, cats don’t come back home after a month.” No! This wasn’t true! Maggie was my freaked-out, skittish, black-and-white CHILD. She was not gone. “Your mom doesn’t come back home after a month!” “What?” “YOUR MOM—I don’t know . . . I’m sorry.” Craig put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. Grief is difficult.” “Your mom’s difficult,” I whispered. But he heard me. And then demanded I get the fuck out of his shelter.

XD

I learned this from reading A Return to Love by Marianne Williamson, which says that we are constantly in a state of either love or fear, and these states control the choices we make and the way we live.

<3

I strolled around and then saw him. The One. He was facing a wall, not moving, except for some nervous twitching. I picked him up and he started foaming at the mouth. I think that means he likes me? He had only one eye, which hopefully explained the staring at the wall. He was super skinny. The dog slipped through my hands a little; he was . . . gooey. Did something spill on him? I took a closer look at his skin and saw that it was irritated, oozing pus and goo. He was fucking disgusting.

You’re an artist. You make art. Stay in the action and out of the results.”

Growing up with no money had given me negative associations about money and people with money. I used to think people with money were greedy or selfish, but that’s not necessarily true at all. I had to redefine the way I looked at wealth. The more you have, the more you can give. If you have a little bit of money you can give to homeless people on the street, but if you have a lot of money? There’s a world of help you could give to others.

Similarly, I couldn’t have planned that one day I would be sitting with Stephen and playing around on Snapchat, and then happen across this square-face filter. I literally laughed when I saw myself, turned to Stephen and said, “I think my battery is dead. Can I use your dick?” “AW SICK, Laura! That’s sick!” I couldn’t have planned him being genuinely appalled in the most hilarious way.

Hahaha the birth of Helen!

I think that just resonated with people, to the point where one British guy even has a tattoo of her on his arm!