I Wish Somebody Would Have Told Me That Some Day, These Will Be The Good Old Days

So I’m going to Kelowna this Thursday.

My boss paid for flights and handled our overnight accommodations, and it’s happening.

We all just decided that we needed to get a better sense of the city and maybe view a couple different houses, see the schools, and just get a better feel of the different neighbourhoods etc before we move further with this. Although at this point it’s pretty much green lights all around.

Like guys. I’m moving to Kelowna. For real. Soon. By this time next year I’ll most likely be in a custom-built home. That I’ve designed from scratch. Every tap and door handle. Each tile and window will have been chosen by me. For me.

And I don’t know how I feel. My boss finally let himself get excited today when we finally made the decision that this was happening. That it was going to work for everyone and be a good move, the right move all around. You could totally tell he was happy, well my coworker, J, too for that matter. But A verbalized it a few times, point-blank saying, I’m getting excited now. And it’s not that I’m not excited. It’s just that I don’t normally show it. I legitimately have googled, on more than one occasion, and read multiple studies on the traits of psychopaths, just to make sure I’m not one, just because of how emotionless I am sometimes. Don’t worry. I’m not a psychopath… I’m pretty sure ūüôā But I definitely wasn’t as excited about the move as either one of them.

Do I want to move? Yes.

Would I be okay to stay? Yes.

Am I happy about moving? Yes.

Is it stressing me out? Yes.

Do I think it would be good to move? Yes.

Do I think it would be easier to stay? Yes.

Soooo, you can see my newest issue.

-Macklemore Ft. Kesha/Good Old Days-


Figures, I Gave You Ride Or Die And You Gave Me Games/Love Figures I Gave You All And You Gave Me Shit

I've never felt so outright disrespected probably ever, at least that I can remember. W? He was killed. E? Never knew what he was doing. But this? This is K actively being… well just awful.

So the mess with K? Well I've been working behind the scene trying to get word to him. Making sure he knew that he needed to add people to his contact list and all that jazz.

Just a refresher though…
K asked me originally to track down his final check from work and send him the money. So I'm thinking he's expecting something from me in the mail to be delivered to the prison, and therefore will want my name added to his list of approved contacts. Sounds logical right?

Well not only was the money order I sent returned to me, but when I tried to get word to K about the approved contact list, because in my mind I'm thinking he must not know about it if he hasn't already added my name… he called yesterday to basically piss all over me.

Saying no, don't bother with the money, keep it for him (yeah right) he's known my address the whole time…and he'll call me when he gets out.

Fuck no!

Who does he think he is? Making that choice for me, about when our relationship/friendship/fucked up life goes on hold? On the call yesterday he revealed that he'd been calling everyone EXCEPT me. And all this time, I'm writing him, and trying to do what I can to support him, and now he's throwing it in my face. I don't even know how, but somehow it's my fault for trying to be there for him.

He told me months ago how his ex twisted things for him the first time he went in, messed shit up on the outside and played with some shit that screwed him over, and I was trying instead to do the exact opposite of that. But apparently he's been calling the ex (and everyone else) and she's been twisting my words and making me look like scum and he's just eating it up, without a second thought.

I'm like wow. You just believe everything she said point blank. You haven't even called me. You asked me to do these few things for you and when I try and follow them through, you shit all over me.
Then you say you'll call me when your out, like that should be some gift to me.

No thanks.

A few people have said things along the lines of guys don't like to mix the life inside with out here and try to just do their time, then move on when they get out. People who don't even know K and I and all that's happened. And if that was the case, I MIGHT have been more understanding. But nope. He seems perfectly comfortable mixing the two worlds when he calls his family or friends from back home or his ex, who already messed up prison for him once. So like what the fuck.

It's a damn privilege to have someone like me in your life and you K… just fucked yourself over.

-Jessie Reyez/Figures-

I gave you ride or die and you gave me games
Love figures
I know I'm crying 'cause you just won't change
Love figures
I gave it all and you gave me shit
Love figures
I wish I could do exactly what you did
I wish I could hurt you back
Love, what would you do if you couldn't get me back
You're the one who's gonna lose
Something so special, something so real
Tell me boy, how in the fuck would you feel?
If you couldn't get me back
That's what I wish that I could do to you, you, hoo, hoo
To you, you, hoo, hoo
I'm the bad guy 'cause I can't learn to trust
Love figures
You say sorry once and you think it's enough
I got a lineup of girls and a lineup of guys
Begging for me just to give 'em a try
I'm willing to stay
'Cause I'm sick for your love
I wish I could hurt you back
Love, what would you do if you couldn't get me back
You're the one who's gonna lose
Something so special, something so real
Tell me boy, how in the fuck would you feel?
If you couldn't get me back
That's what I wish that I could do to you, you, hoo, hoo
To you, you, hoo, hoo

All The Good Girls Are Home With Broken Hearts ‘And I’m Free, I’m Free Falling

So at my family dinner on Canada Day, I brought up the fact that I would like to go skydiving, and asked would anyone want to go with me. Purely from the selfish point of view that the larger the group the bigger discount I get ūüėā.

Wow. Until this point, I honestly did not realize how utterly and completely boring my family is compared to me. I literally have always though of myself as the good one in the family but in that moment, as I listened to all their shocked responses, I learned that I’m the black sheep/wild child of us all.

As I heard them talk about how risky it is and in all seriousness have I prepared a will, maybe I should try bungee jumping instead…the comments barely registered because all I could think about was all the ridiculous and outlandish things I have actually done in my life… and how foolish it was of me to ever consider myself anything less than a badass for lack of a better word lol. Well I’m sure there are plenty of better words, and I’m far from a badass, but I’m discovering that I’m even FARTHER from a goodie good.

Like who does or goes through even a handful of the things I have, and turns out half as chill as me? No one that’s who. Rape? Destroys some people for life. Domestic violence? Messes with some people for years! Heck, having a loved one get shot and killed? No wonder we have suicide!

But I’ve realized I’ve had those few things happen and far far more, yet I’m out here living. Really living. I tried following my heart across the world and lived in another country… twice! I have a son and daughter each. I’ve been married and felt loved, not necessarily from the same man. I’ve had low lows and high highs, but standing where I am now, I wouldn’t change anything in the past.

It all makes me, me. And I’m fantastic. I’m not some boring person who sits around on their rear all day instead of getting out and living life. I’m someone who goes skydiving.

And that, in and of itself, is something I can smile at.

-Tom Petty/Free Falling-

I’m at a Payphone Trying to Call Home All of My Change I Spent on You/Baby it’s All Wrong Where are the Plans We Made for Two


They say no news is good news, but that’s the biggest pile of shit ever. 

It’s only been like just over 48 hours, so I’m trying to be patient, but I guess it’s not a strong point of mine. 

I started off my day yesterday researching where to even start looking for where to contact K. I googled so many different searches that if I die and my browser history is revealed, people will have some weird questions about me. Anyways it lead me to a phone number for the cops about recent arrests… which I dialed. But as I make my way through the automated voice response, to the extension I needed, a recording starts which says that ‘they cannot release information about detainees over the age of 18, and it is up to them to inform their families of their whereabouts’ Oh great, I’m thinking. Why bother having this number anyways if you can’t give out information!?! 

Then, an actual person comes on the phone and I explained that although I heard the recording, I’m looking for an individual who was recently arrested after breaking parole, and I have no idea where to start looking. He said if it was a parole violation most likely he was sent to a certain centre and to try there. So I thanked him for at least pointing me somewhere and then looked up the centre. 

Yep, you guessed it. Same thing. They won’t release information on individuals held there. So now, the only way I’ll know where K is, and if he’s ok, is if he calls me, or reaches out to me in any fashion. 

And that scares me. Because why hasn’t he yet? And what if he doesn’t. Like I get he has to contact his family first and like a lawyer maybe… I don’t know how it works, and maybe he’s only allowed a certain number of calls a day… or maybe he doesn’t have money for a call? 

So many thoughts are running through my head, mainly, is he ok? And will he call? And why did things have to pause on such an unstable note between us? And how long do i wait for him to call before realizing he won’t? 

Agggghhhh. I seriously don’t even have the proper words to describe my feelings/frustration. 
-Maroon 5/Payphone-

By Now You Should’ve Somehow Realized What You Gotta Do I Don’t Believe that Anybody Feels The Way I Do About You Now

This post is just some odds and ends about everything that’s been happening lately. I just don’t feel like going to deep into anything because life has been really handing it to me this week, but have I have a lot of quick updates I’d like to share.

My Grandma apparently specified that all the grandkids were to split the money from a piece of land she just recently sold, with everything else going to my grandpa. So I can expect an amazing check from her estate within the next two weeks and I have decided that I’m going to use a portion of it to take my kids and I on a cruise on (or near) my 30th birthday this fall (well that and some backyard renos… among other house fixes. I have to tear up my deck$$$ and so, fake grass here we come). I’ve never been on a cruise or on a relaxing holiday as an adult. Yes I’ve traveled a lot, but never on holiday. So I’ve decided it’s about time. I’ll get back to you in a month or so once I’ve booked it with more details.

Speaking of timelines, the divorce SHOULD be nearing the end. I feel like I’ve been saying this for about 1.5 years, but for real now, everything is agreed on and unless E pulls some random move, we should be signing within a month or two and I’ll officially be a single woman.

Next, work has asked me to start working an extra day per week. So starting in July I’ll move from 3 to 4 days a week and still have a long weekend every week. The extra remuneration is totally worth it, and I’m planning within 6-8 months to get a new car with the additional cash. Cause I still hate my junk bucket.

Plus on top of all that, Eli asked me this morning out of the blue why we don’t live with dad anymore. We were on our way into my parents house and so I told him I would talk to him about it when we had a chance to sit down and discuss it fully later today. I know he knows what happened, because he’s brought it up in the past, he used to refer to it as the time daddy gave mommy a spanking, since that’s the only way his young mind could explain it. Although its been a while since he’s talked like that. I’m not sure if he’s forgotten about the incident or if he just doesn’t get why E doesn’t live with us. I really have to think through how I’m going to deal with this.

I have to really think through how I’m going to handle a lot of stuff in my life right now.

I’m just hoping I get a redo in some areas. Wouldn’t that be nice? A rewind button on life. And yes, I do realize I have a lot of money coming my way in the next while, between my grandma dying, E’s unpaid support, and work upping my pay. Maybe Karma does exist lol? I went for a long time with very little. I sacrificed a lot for both E and the kids. I moved to the middle of nowhere with no electricity or running water for years. No makeup or new clothes or food I didn’t grow. No internet or phone…I kinda feel like I’ve earned everything that’s coming to me. Now I just have to try not to spend it before it’s in my pocket ūüėŹ


If Your Not the One for Me Why do I Hate the Idea of Being Free/Why Have We Been Through What We Have Been Through 

Making the best choice for yourself in life is shitty sometimes. Whether it’s as simple as eating healthy food vs. a cheeseburger or cutting out people who you feel aren’t the best for you in order to make room for someone who will help you grow better. Both aren’t fun, but the “friend” option is more painful for much longer.

Which is why I’m hoping with everything in me that it will lead to more growth in the end.

I know most of you are thinking that after the whole body image (more about it here… Flaws On the Table, I Don‚Äôt Feel Insecure ) thing I probably drew a hard line with K and that was that. Oh sure I did. In the fucking sand. And then the waves that were my feelings for him came and washed what little resolve I had out the window and I was back where I started. Or worse, I don’t even know. What I do know, is that K took full advantage of my feelings and we continued to fuck, and then some. It’s just that he knows what to say to pull at my heart-strings and get what he wants. Which is basically sex without putting in the work of a relationship.

And I’m so broken and embarrassed by that. Because he’s manipulated me so well, and I hate myself for falling soooo far for him. For a man who was very careful to never say I love you to me, but would hold me in his arms and make me feel like my heart was safe. Yet when I was vulnerable, take my heart and break it. For what feels like the hundredth time. Into a shit ton of tiny pieces.

This man who would draw me in, and tell me secrets, and I would tell mine too… but never had any plans or desires to be with me in the future. Throw out comments like be his woman and his wife, ask if I would move here or there and discuss future things… And then turn around and claim he never led me on. Saying since he never said he loved me, that it makes everything else fine.

Maybe it does. Maybe I’m looking to far into it. Maybe the words I love you are more important than him saying you know how much you mean to me C, or holding me, or kissing me the way he did. I guess in his mind that was the only thing that mattered, the actual words I love you. And I shouldn’t feel so hurt.

But I do.

I hurt.

I’m crying. For everything I’ve lost. Everything I’ve had taken from me. Everything I’ve given away. Not just involving K, but in my life.

And I hate it.

Because I thought I was stronger than this.

This stupid girl who fell in love with a man who was using her.

-Adele/Water Under The Bridge-

To Be in Love With Someone Who Could Never Love You

Have you ever been in a relationship or just a friendship where you felt like they were your everything and you were just ‘something’ to them… at best? 

Or where you can’t be with them because of dumb or made up reason and you find yourself always having to contain your feelings/emotions for them because you know how you feel for them won’t be reciprocated? 

So you go around day after day, pretending that how your friendship, as it stands, is enough for you when deep inside your screaming for more, but at the same time worried to push for what you want because then you might lose the little that you have. 

It’s infuriating. To love someone who doesn’t love you. 

It’s embarrassing. To want someone so much. 

It’s degrading. To continually be pushed aside. 

It’s humiliating. To feel like I still want more despite all this. 

It’s just fucken annoying. That I have so much more to say, yet can’t say it to the person that matters. For fear of losing it all. 
-Frank Ocean/Bad Religion-

And You Can’t Stop Me From Falling Apart

I refuse to watch 13 Reasons Why. As someone who has attempted suicide myself, on more than one occasion, and obviously failed (self high-five), I don’t feel I need to know someone else’s reasons behind killing themselves. Do I think it’s a good show for people to watch who have never experienced suicidal tendencies? Sure, maybe, I don’t know. But like¬† I said, I won’t watch it, so I can’t advise.
My first attempt was when I was about 16 (I think… in around there). Looking back, my life was pretty good, so from all outward appearances there was nothing that would have given away my intentions.
I grew up in the suburbs, in a brand new house my mom designed and had built when I was 10 using the inheritance my dad got when his parents passed away within a year of each other. I was pretty much a straight A student¬†for the most part until¬†Gr. 12. I had a solid group of friends. I had lots of activities I was involved in, you know the standard boring stuff like band and *synchronized* swimming. I played b-ball in junior high and rugby throughout high school. I wasn’t a “trouble” kid, never even been sent to the principles office (unless the teacher needed and errand kid… then¬†I was your girl)¬†I wasn’t your emotional girly girl, my friends all came to me for advice knowing I could be trusted to keep secrets as well as lead them in the right direction. I’ve never been fired from a job since I first started working at 14.¬† I was/am¬†fiscally responsible, and bought my first car (at the time a sweet black coupe Sunfire lol)¬†at 16. Basically, I was¬†your model goody-two-shoes citizen.
It would seem I had it all.
So why would someone who had it “so good” feel so desperate that they had to try to kill themselves. Good question. One that I can’t even explain well. It’s like you get to a point where you feel desperate. You feel like no matter¬†what,¬†no matter how¬†hard you try or what you do, it won’t¬†be good enough, or even better,¬†it won’t matter.¬†It comes from inside. It’s not necessarily because of a certain situation or because of something someone said to you, it comes from deep inside of you. You feel like your drowning in yourself. You feel out of control. And as hard as you try to “think positive” or “look at the bright side” or whatever other ridiculous thing people tell you in that moment, the feeling is there. Deep down inside. So you stop telling them about your struggle. You say your fine. You act like your fine. You show no outward appearances of being in trouble. Because you don’t need the words from people who don’t understand you,¬†trying to “make things better” They don’t get that words won’t help. This is a feeling. An emotion. A¬†confliction rising from places you didn’t know existed deep within yourself. Places you’ve tried to keep hidden. Because you are a happy person. Who doesn’t have 13 reasons to kill herself. A person who has a million reasons to live.
Yet, you don’t want to.
So, one night while my parents where out, I very carefully and methodically downed an entire bottle of extra strength Advil, laid down. and went to sleep for what I hoped, in the moment, would be the last time.
Imagine my surprise and to be honest, hurt, confusion and annoyance when I woke up the next morning feeling nothing but a slight stomach ache. WTF? Seriously? How much does it take?¬†So I got up and went to school as per usual. I hardly told anyone until now. Why admit failure at something as ridiculous as this right? lol. I continued with my life as usual thinking back on that night often… than less as time went on.
Until about¬†3 years ago. Went the feelings came back again. Harder, and much more intense. But this time I was more “mature” about it lol. I had two kids looking up to me, so I at least went for help. I had left E, and was living with my parents again (full circle hey) and I knew I needed help. So one night after I put the kids to sleep I asked my parents if they minded watching the kids while I went out to the clinic, because I really needed to go. Like RIGHT NOW! So I went to the clinic… where the Dr was a douche.
I tried explaining why I was there, and how I was looking for anti depressants. Simple right? Give the depressed suicidal woman antidepressants and everything’s good. At least that how I thought it would go down. But nope. He kept asking why I felt I needed them (Ummmmmmmmm, I’m depressed? Idiot) and saying if I’m suicidal or even overly depressed, he wouldn’t be able to let me leave and would have to call it in to the hospital, and put me under an emergency watch. So all I could think about was that I had already shared too much. I had come for help. And now you want to lock me in a ward somewhere? Nope. Nope nope nope a million times no. I did a hard 180 and back tracked on everything I had said to him and walked out the office ASAP. But as I drove home, the feelings crept back in.¬†Deeper and more desperate than before. If a doctor couldn’t/wouldn’t help me, then what chance did I have? I felt I had done my best going about dealing with it the “proper way” by going to see a “medical professional” and left feeling more overwhelmed then I had an hour ago.
So when¬†I pulled into the garage at my parents house, even though it wasn’t premeditated… I closed the¬†overhead door, and just stayed. I had the car running and the windows down and I just sat there with my eyes closed. I briefly thought about my kids and how they would be fine with my parents, and I could at least enjoy¬†my last moments¬†relaxing¬†with nothing going through my head but whatever songs were on the radio.
Music. One of the most important things in my life. Because it can connect you with/too so many things, but also it can disconnect you from life. Which is what I wanted right then. To forget life. And forget pain, and fear, and every other emotion. I wanted to just ¬†“be” one last time. Until I’m not sure how much later, but my Dad walked out, saying he had heard the garage door, and wondering if I was ok/what I was doing out there.
No. No, I was not ok. I did not get the help I was looking for. And now you’ve interrupted my “master plan”¬†so now what.
Well “now what” turned out to be a visit to a competent doctor the next day at the¬† urging of my parents.¬†The new¬†doctor¬†worked with me, getting me the proper antidepressants that would work with the seizure meds I’m on, as well as follow up calls and emails to ensure I was doing better. Which for the most part I was.
And I still kinda am. Although, upon reflection, I’ve noticed it’s definitely a S.A.D. thing. Which is not something I’m embarrassed about. Even as recently as this past winter, I’ve struggled with suicidal thoughts. Which is probably why¬†I never felt this way while living in Africa. And although I’m not taking anti depressants anymore, I deal with the emotional pull of the darkness inside myself¬†during that¬†time of year. Something I’m sure will probably happen this coming winter too.
Do I think I’ll try to kill myself again? Not really. But right now, I’m okay. I’m not depressed…¬†for now. So I cannot say for sure. All I know is there are not 13 reasons for me. There is not even one. In my opinion, someone who is suicidal, is that way because nothing makes sense. The thoughts in their head are all “down” and “dark.” It’s definitely not a well written and organized 13 point plan/reasons. It’s just desperation and hopelessness.
Or just someone who has had enough. And I hate to be a downer, but sometimes there aren’t warning signs. I was very good at keeping it to myself, and being a “happy friendly¬†carefree” 16 year-old. I never cut myself, or did any other self harm when I went straight to downing those pills. I never gave anyone a heads up. I didn’t even write a suicide note. I wasn’t in it for the attention, I was trying to do it, to be done with life. I didn’t give two shits what anyone else thought, then and still to this day that’s how I do life.
I have never had someone close to me commit suicide. And I’m truly sorry if you have. But to be honest, it’s not about what you could’ve done to help. Because depression comes from within. And needs to be solved from within. My medication helped me. No conversation with friends or family. No amount of get togethers or going out will help. Because the individual will just paste on a fake smile and then once they go home and are alone, the “dark” thoughts will be back, if they weren’t there the whole time anyways.
Depression is a medical condition that should be helped with medication.
It should not be judged or laughed at. It also should not be made to be explained by the inflicted. Because it can’t be. You either are depressed or you are not. like I said before, nothing in the outer world “makes” you depressed.
For me it came from within. And¬†I shouldn’t need 13 reasons why.

-Skillet/Open Wounds-

This Ringing in My Head, Is This a Cure or is This a Disease

AHHH, I’m feeling so lost! For so many reasons, I decided last night I needed to take a break from my phone. So this morning, after my alarm (on my phone) went off, I turned off my phone. Now when I planned this all in my head last night, I figured I could go until sometime on Sunday without it. I mean common it’s not like I’ll die without my phone right. But as the morning has gone on, it’s become clearer to me how much I depend on my phone. Not only that, but also I’ve become aware of a few other life altering facts which I’ll touch on later.

First, I’m constantly checking the time on my phone. Just because. Because I like to know where I stand in my day, how much time I have left before I have to make supper or run out the door for work or put the kids to bed etc. I HATE being late, for anything. So I always like to know what time it is. I feel like if I can control that one aspect, of being on time, then I can keep at least some peace in my chaotic life. But I’m realizing lately…. So what if I’m late? So what if the kids stay up a little? Really what will happen if I make dinner a little later, or 15 minutes earlier? Nothing. It won’t be the end of the world. The sky won’t fall, the earth won’t shatter, nothing will change. So these last few weeks I’ve been trying to lighten up a little bit. Let the kids finish their book before bed even if it takes the extra 15 minutes. Take them to the park after work (BEFORE supper, What?!?!) because it’s not gonna kill anyone. Let myself sleep in on the weekends, because little E can make cereal/toast for himself and Z and they will survive without me for an hour or two. Basically just trying to lighten up a little time/schedule wise, and so far, we’re all still alive so it must be working. And this morning without my phone, there were still clocks around my house when it was absolutely necessary to check the time¬†to be¬†ok for work. Just not checking every 3 minutes.

Next, I check my bank account about 2-4 times a day.¬† Overkill? For sure. But I like to know where my money is and how much there is at all times. I have it divided into multiple accounts (probably way more than needed)¬†to keep track of it all ( lol “it all” like there’s soo much). My own checking’s, savings, tax’s free. and RRSP etc. Then little E and Z each have one that I have automatic weekly transfers from my checking into theirs. Little E wants to be a paleontologist/hockey player¬†and Z will have big dreams too for which¬†I’m sure University isn’t cheap so I’ve started saving early.¬†¬†I’ve never bounced a cheque or missed a bill payment in my life because I’m always on top of my money.¬†But still¬†I figure I need to relax a little. Not enough to let things slip through my fingers and make mistakes, but common, if a transactions not there first thing in the morning? Doubtful anything will have changed by 2 or 5 or 9 hours later. So I can still be diligent, but not obsessive.

Next, I thought through the fact if I turn off my phone, how will anyone be able to get ahold of me? And that’s when it hit me. Hard. And painfully. Apart from less than a handful of people, three to be exact, no one normally calls me first. Which is annoying to be honest. I am always the first to call/text someone. The first to reach out and invite a friend out/over. But then I thought harder about it. Why? Why don’t any of my “friends” call me? Am I a good friend. I am trustworthy, smart, funny, compassionate, non-judgemental¬†etc. Like literally I’m amazing to be around. So what is going on that no one calls me? And how have I not noticed this until now? Friendship should work both ways. Give and take. So by keeping my phone off this weekend, it gives me an opportunity to back off, and see if anyone does reach out first. It will really give me a clear picture of my “friends.” And maybe there might need to be a little (or a lot) of rearranging in my life as a result.

Then, to top it all off, I went to make my daily coffee this AM, and that all went to shit to. Last Friday, I traded coffee makers with my sister R. She had recently mentioned how she really wanted a Keurig and so since it really didn’t matter to me what machine I had, I traded my barely used Keurig for her 5 year-old Tassimo. I just wanted her to be happy (see, good friend attribute), and like I said, coffee is coffee, and it didn’t matter to me what machine I use. Weellllll. Here I am eating my words because her machine makes poop in a mug. No matter what I do the sludge it produces is nasty. But this morning I really wanted a coffee so I decided I would suck it up and make do. So I poured myself a cup, and went for my creamer and that’s when I noticed I was out. So I figured, nope I’m not drinking this¬†excuse¬†for coffee¬†without cream, I’ll just stop at Starbucks today. But being the brilliant human that I am, after INTENTIONALLY leaving my phone at home, remembered that since I use my app to pay, I was outta luck coffee wise today.

And to top it off, my kids are finally spending the night at my parents tomorrow night, and of all weekends, I choose this one to put away the phone, so now I can’t make plans. But I figure anyone who really wanted to spend time with me knows where I live.

SO that brings me to now, sitting at work, coffee-less, phone-less and perhaps in a few days, fake friend-less.

-Audioslave/Show Me How to Live-

R.I.P Chris Cornell

I’m Friends With the Monster That’s Under My Bed. Get Along With the Voices Inside of My Head

Once E was served with divorce papers, he called me freaking out. It took over two months for my lawyer and I to get everything straightened out on paper and all the proper documents filled out, before he was actually notified on April 29, 2014. All the time between my flying back from Kenya and him being served, I think he thought I was joking, or just playing a game, hoping he would change or something. I honestly don’t know why he was so surprised that I actually filed for divorce. When I say I’m going to do something, I do it…

But, those papers¬†started a whole myriad of amazing lies on his part.¬† Time after time I was left speechless at the items he put in his “sworn statements.” Things he “promised” were the truth, and it just confirmed to me how much of a liar I’d been married too.

First and foremost, he claimed that he had caught me IN BED with our farm boy that Sunday morning back in January, but no violence occurred,¬†and so he wanted to divorce me because of that. Seriously? At this point E, I don’t even care as long as I get out of this marriage to you. But then it went on to say that I had beat up his mother when I was trying to leave Kenya (claiming she had¬†suffered a concussion) and that the incident with his father and the van never occurred. Oh common.¬†¬†Next, he said that I owed him some $21,000.00 for some reason. Haha for real? Dude, you haven’t held a long-term¬†steady job our entire relationship! I’ve paid for¬†practically everything in our lives, meaning houses/land, cars, and multiples cross-continental trips every time you had a whim that you wanted to move back and forth between Kenya & Canada. If anything you owe me a ridiculous sum of money. But¬†I wasn’t asking for money. All I wanted was a life free from E. As soon as possible.

Life never works out like that though. Because after I left E, his mental health deteriorated quickly. He slowly stopped answering phone calls, and even texts became too much for him. He started missing meetings with his lawyer which delayed everything even more than necessary. I was on the phone with him one day after not hearing from him for a while. I asked him how he was doing, knowing his past problems with anxiety. He shared with me then, that he was too scared to leave his house to even get groceries. I tried my best to convince him to get help, to find a Dr., or someone he felt comfortable confiding in to talk to, but nothing ever came of it.

Then, a couple of weeks later, he went missing. Not answering calls, or texts. He even missed showing up to a prearranged visit with the kids. So I got worried.¬†Just because¬†I no longer wanted to be the man’s wife, didn’t mean I wanted anything bad to happen to him (or anyone). So the search was on. He had been staying with a guy from work, who said he hadn’t seen him in a couple of days (also mentioned that E owed him rent money if I felt like paying, haha no thanks). I called his work, who said E didn’t show up to the plane to head up to camp for his latest shift. I called some of his family in Kenya, as well as his one brother living in the States… No one had heard from him.

So I ended up calling¬†the police to file¬†a missing person report. I explained that he might be dangerous, and that he didn’t have all his faculties at the moment. They,¬†again, weren’t helpful. They explained that even if they did find him, they couldn’t do anything. E was a grown ass man. If he didn’t want anyone to know where he was, then the police couldn’t inform me of his whereabouts even if they did locate him. Fine. I was just trying to be helpful. It’s the middle of January and I’m thinking he’s out on the streets somewhere, afraid of life and no ones around to help. And I felt bad. During this time, I felt bad for leaving him. I felt like I had been the stability in his life, and maybe if I had stayed with E, then his illness would’ve never progressed to this point. I felt like my leaving him had “pushed him over the edge” so to speak.

But then a phone call came. It was E, and he was on his way across the country. He told me he had sold everything he owed except what fit in one suitcase, and had bought a bus ticket to Ottawa. What??? WHY??? Oh, C. Don’t ask a mentally ill person to explain their actions… because then you get answers like the following.

He felt like people were out to get him, and so he didn’t feel safe where he was. Umm Ok? Why Ottawa though? Two reasons, he has one friend from Kenya who lived there, and the Kenyan Embassy was located there. What the heck is¬†the Embassy going to do? You need a Doctor! I couldn’t hear much else over the phone so our call was ended abruptly since the bus was going through a¬†tunnel of sorts, but I knew he was at least alive. I called his family to let them know where he was and to let the friend in Ottawa know to expect E. I had to then call the police and cancel my missing person report, even though I knew they had been putting zero effort into finding him.

Another month or so went by with no word from E. Until finally one day I receive an email from his email address, but I knew right away it wasn’t him who had written it. “He” asked how the kids were doing and also needed some paperwork from me. I emailed back asking where he had been for the last month, and who was writing his emails and then they whole story came out. Kinda… Well as good as it gets with this man.

After he got to Ottawa, he somehow found his old rugby buddy and stayed with him for a bit. But the “voices” became too much for him. And the paranoia was so bad, that his friend found him one morning sleeping UNDER the bed. So at that point, his friend took him to the hospital. Where he’d been officially diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, depression and extreme anxiety. He was locked up in the pysch ward, fed a¬†concoction of medication, and hadn’t had access to his phone or email¬†until that day, since he had earned access outside the ward.¬†His therapist had helped him write the email to me.

In some ways I felt relieved that he was finally getting help. I felt like it validated my feelings of frustration. Trying for years to make a marriage work. A relationship work. But constantly feeling like I wasn’t getting through. Feeling like he was never listening to me. In a way, he never was. He was listening to the voices in his head. The voices telling him everyone was against him. That I was against him. It explained a lot, and although¬†it didn’t forgive his behaviour, it made me feel like less of a failure. Like I had done all that I could, but he was legitimately ill.¬†I could’ve tried ’til I was blue in the face, but nothing would’ve helped our marriage. Not until he received the proper care he needed, and I and others had continually suggested. And now he was getting it.

E was held in the psychiatric ward for¬†about 4-5¬†months. The doctors called me a few times asking for a little background information, and informing me of his treatment plan. I had to explain many times that we were no longer a couple and that no, I wouldn’t be helping him once he was released. E ended up staying with his friend in Ottawa for about 3 months once he was released from the ward. The Doctors wanted to make sure he was following up on his medication and counselling, letting me know that there is no cure for his condition, and that he would be on medication for life. Also letting me know that¬†a relapse is likely, and that if there was a history of violence, there was a strong possibility of more violence.

E’s friend was fine with having him stay there, but after a while, I could tell that he was getting a little frustrated with E’s extended stay, and I had to break it down to E. He couldn’t live with his friend forever. His friend was married with two kids, and although I’m sure they’d enjoyed this catch up time,¬†he and his wife¬†probably wanted to get back to their own life. E was able to call his old job and get his previous position back for himself, even though his hours/duties had to be modified. I was probably¬†just as glad as his friend was for him to start back at work, because I’d been missing out on child support payments for the last 8-9 months.

Now that E is on medication, he is a little more reliable as far as payments for the kids go, but the meds have changed him. He is constantly tired and has gained a solid 50 lbs. His thinking¬†has slowed dramatically and it’s like talking to a kid. When he does get to see¬†our kids (about once a month) he takes them to the same place and sits there while he watches them play. Actually, now that I think about it… that’s pretty much how he was before minus the weight gain. So not much has changed.