"Forget" You

Listen to this while you read me.

Happy long weekend everyone. : )

I love Labour Day weekend. Y'all know I get all sappy at Thanksgiving (I know we get presents at Christmas, but Thanksgiving is the best holiday ever), and I know that no one should be sappy about this long weekend. We should all just thank the Universe that we don't have to go to work. (Well most of us. Sorry JJ.)

I'm strangely excited though about the end of summer. Fall is my favorite season. It's so beautiful and melancholy. (Yup there's that word again.) I have to put away all my wee dresses, but we get to buy new sweaters. Tweed is always "in" and most years come fall, I die my hair red. Days get shorter, nights become crisp and everything dies. (Sorry, if that was morbid. But we're all gonna die people. Fall is the perfect reminder to do all the things you need to do before the leaves turn brown.) Winter is coming. (Yes, I know, I need to lay off the Game of Thrones. And stop italicizing things.)

Then though, we'll see spring and everything starts all over again, almost as if, from the beginning. And as many falls, springs, new years, birthdays I've been through, we could always use yet another fresh start. It might be the week off work or the two sessions with The Doctor, but I've gotta say I feel extremely grateful for life as it is. I think my little writing project has finally helped me find some closure. My Doctor asked me if I was scared that it's coming out and honestly, I'm not. I was, for a long time but not now. Now that I've given the story to someone else, I can talk about it, and it's just a story.

I want to thank everyone who's read me or been part of the the journey I've been on the past couple of years. This blog has been an important, no necessary, part of the healing process and when I started out I remember being so impressed when I had had 2,000 reads on here. Now we're almost at 20,000 and who knows what will happen soon? Jersey Shore says once I hit 50,000 I'm marketable so it doesn't seem that crazy to think that we can get there.

I've had family, both JW and not, who asked me why I had to do this. It inconveniences them I know. They want to know: if I want to be a writer, why can't I just write another story? I wish I could and maybe someday I will. One more Games of Thrones mention and I will stop, but it's fascinating how his imagination came up with all that. Although this will seem cliche coming from a girl from PEI, in Anne of Green Gables, the best advice she ever got was just to write about what she knew. So this might not be my last story, but it's definitely my first one, and the reason why y'all keep reading me.

I've had someone recently post on here, an old friend no doubt who I'm sure cares, why don't I just come back to them if I'm so obviously miserable? I want to make it very, very, very clear, I'm not miserable. The exact opposite actually. I'm overwhelmed with how many wonderful people I can call "family" now. I have trouble figuring out how to spend my weekends trying to fit everyone in who wants to see me. Sometimes, I have relapses and I need to talk about the past. Sometimes I worry about the children of the JWs now and what will happen to them if they buy into that and then become adults and change their minds. I worry about people like me who are constant people pleasers and will face the hardest battle if they ever decide to follow their heart.

Yes, I lost my mom. But I found another one. More than one actually, because here in Toronto I've found mothers and fathers and sisters and even a kid. Whatever happens, this is a success story already. And you can do it too, if you're ever wondering if it's possible to start all over. I have two bunches of fresh flowers from the market and a BBQ to get to. It's the long weekend. Let's have fun. And, THANK YOU : )

Sullivan out.

Y'all are too obsessed with Batman. Just sayin'. :)

Being on vacation rocks. Today I went to see my therapist and he was teaching me some meditation/anxiety deflecting techniques. Oh and listening to my crazy stories from the past 2 months when I was too busy to go see him. He's super zen, a spiritual guy, and a little bit odd - he wears a white button down shirt and blue jeans every day at the office. I want to ask him about that some day. I left and just walked around the city for hours and got lost. My phone even died and I didn't care. 

Now, I don't want to scare y'all away from posting or anything, (I love all your comments, even the ones that aren't so nice, cause it gives me something to write about) but I had to share this comment I got yesterday on one of my older posts. You may remember the comment someone had left on "The man behind the curtain", if not you can clink the link and read the comment (scroll to the bottom) if you like, but if you're in a hurry or just not all that interested in the cult thinking that has led us here today, I'll sum it up. Basically they used a Batman reference to say that our families shun us in the same spirit that Alfred had when he decided to leave Batman at one point. He was scared for his safety, wanted to show him the error of his way, couldn't bear to watch him go down this dangerous, deadly path, so he left. I thought I wrote a clever response in "Rebuttal" but you should read this (both because it's more clever than my response was and it also mostly saves me from having to write my own blog tonight). This person would clearly make an excellent lawyer. :)

They wrote:

Here’s where I find the Batman reference to be problematic. It stops at one scene. Instead of picking one scene and line, I think it is more practical and logical to contextualize the issue. Let’s not forget the Batman discussion that you referenced happens shortly after Alfred has admitted to deceiving Bruce for numerous years about a major motivating factor in his life (i.e. burning the letter from Rachel that revealed her true feelings about Bruce). Alfred has in his mind an idea of happiness for Bruce that doesn’t fit the trajectory Bruce’s life has taken. In fact, Alfred has limited himself to envisioning only one method of happiness for his boss – Bruce must quit being Batman, not fight Bane, and just settle down. Bruce refuses. Does Bruce go out and get hurt, in fact have his back broken by Bane, just as Alfred worried he would? He sure does! But guess what, this makes Bruce a stronger person. As Batman, he fights the battles he needs to face, stares down his past, manages to save a city, woo a girl, pass on his mantle and find happiness - all on his own terms. Alfred misses out on witnessing all this. 

At the end of the movie, Alfred discovers Bruce has found happiness after all. This happiness is the exact type that Alfred envisioned for his boss at the beginning of the movie. (As a refresher, Alfred references a recurring dream he has early in the movie. He imagines being in Italy on a patio, looking up, and seeing Bruce seated at a table with a girl. Bruce has obviously left his years as Batman behind, and settled down. This is how the dream ends, and this is how the movie ends). 

Alfred smiles. Curtains close, everyone cheers.

The point here is that there are many ways to happiness. It’s natural we want the best possible life for our friends. But cutting them off because we feel that happiness can only be achieved in one, predetermined, broad brush stroke is unfair. This is conditional love. Not the unconditional love the Bible expounds. 

Alfred sobs at Bruce's grave, believing his boss to be dead. Meanwhile, what is really happening is that he is crying at the grave of a friend who has not died. Isn’t this what the disfellowshipping arrangement does, by causing family and friends to treat as non-existent someone who is very much alive (and quite possibly happy, or on their way to happiness)? 

Like Alfred, family and friends can either acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, there exists more than one road to life and happiness. That life does not fall apart when one stops following the JW rulebook. 

If they can’t do that, then hey, to paraphrase Commissioner Gordon, maybe those are not the kind of friends that Blackbird deserves. And guess what? They are certainly not the type she needs either. 

Church Girls

It's been a quiet few days. Even Matthew Hussey hasn't been sending out helpful video blogs on how to "Get the Guy".

I seem more adept at losing the guy, and I won't lie, a few days into my newest break-up, I haven't made the best use of my vacation week. There were so many things I was going to do, spring cleaning, shopping, yoga. So far I've managed to clean the kitty litter, nap, answer the odd work email (I know, I know, I have a problem) and spend 3 days reading Game of Thrones. Today was epic though, because it finally, finally stopped raining and...I read Game of Thrones in the park and didn't check my BlackBerry once.

Disclaimer: Do not start reading Game of Thrones if you have an addictive personality and are NOT on vacation. It's like, 800 pages long and sucks you in before you can scream for help. And apparently there are 5 books.   

I thought it was appropriate that it rained so hard the past few days though, I always love the rain when I'm feeling melancholy. (I know, it's a great word.)

But today the sun came back out, I got groceries, am meeting up with a girlfriend tonight. Tomorrow, is yoga first thing in the morning, followed by a long-overdue trip to see my therapist (I actually booked appointments two days in a row. Let's make this vacation count! Plus he has a lot to catch up on.).

Last night though, I met up with one of my little sisters from the old life. We haven't seen each other in about a year so it was great to see her. It's funny, (here we go with the cult shit again) they love to tell these stories on the platform at the Kingdom Hall, in the Watchtower, about how people decide to leave and it absolutely ruins their life. I wish I hadn't been so stupid as to give them another story to tell.

Regardless, can't change that now. As her and I caught up and re-bonded, I can't help but think it's too bad they tell those stories, always a somewhat modified rendition of the "Prodigal Son", who of course squandered his Father's fortune with wine and prostitutes, ended up desolate and desperate, begging his Father to take him back. The stories always end with how happy the person is that his family disowned him and shunned him for years, lest he had never visited the end of his wits, turned back and learned his lesson.

I'm sure some of us "Church Girls" who leave the faith do end up in harm's way and regret the decisions we make. And I think all of us have gone through a little bit of a reckless stage. How can you not, having grown up with a rule for everything from how you think to what you wear to how you speak, then losing your belief system and being out there alone, with no one and no rules.

We all made our mistakes. But seeing S. last night, as she shines her way through Law School at Queen's, knowing K. is happily married and just bought a beautiful house with her lovely husband after finishing school for something she was passionate about even though she already had a good job, M. just got a promotion and is back in school herself, me, doing well at a good job, making As at school, writing a blog on the side (that people actually read), having people who really love me filling up the extra time...I wish once in awhile they would tell that story. I understand why they don't. And every time any of us gets together, we talk about the past, what we lost, how crazy it all seems, even though we smile and respect whatever our families want to believe.

I'll tell you a secret: it's not wrong to believe in whatever we want to believe, as long as we respect the others and their belief system. But if you don't believe, it's ok to leave. You'll be fine eventually. Trust me. : )

La vita e bella

16,000 page reads huh?  We can do better than that! : )

Gawd, I'm starting to feel old. Aches and pains and paying for it every time I wear high heels.  My mom has this disease I would never even have known about and lately, these weird little symptoms I have are making me very nervous. I literally never thought I was going to get old, so this is interesting. I guess this is what the non-cult world has to deal with.

I have to say though, lately I feel like I've finally found my groove. Rebuilt my life in 4 years. Good job, cute flat, great friends, happiness, almost at peace of mind? Got it. It's been a hard road but the road less travelled is usually the one that pays off in the end and takes you somewhere amazing.

My girlfriend has cancer. Again. Yesterday Lindsay and I went to her place. We got groceries, cooked a bunch of food for the week. Watched "Say Yes to the Dress". She said she wished she had figured it all out sooner. I do too. I wish there was some way we could get to that great place where we are without going though all the suffering on the way.

Before I got disfellowshipped, I already used to ask God what he was doing. Why were things always so hard? What more did I need to learn? I believe that through our struggles, we learn more than we ever would have without them. That pain is instructive. That it teaches us to be better people than we would have been without it. And that through that, we can sit with someone else's pain and be there for them in ways we couldn't have, had we had the perfect life.

Donia is the same age my Uncle Ken was, a year and a half ago, when we went through that. I've honestly never met anyone funnier, kinder, more beautiful. Whatever happens now will happen and even though it makes me want to scream, I can't change it.

The only thing any of us can control is ourselves. My elder told me I had to write a letter and sign it if I wanted to get out. I had coffee with my sister on Saturday. We talked for a couple of hours and even though I still don't want to be a JW, I told her I wouldn't send the letter. Let the chips fall where they may, I know I tried to do it. And if there's a slight chance they won't hunt me down this time, and if it makes things easier for my family, I'll swallow this. It's a sacrifice, a compromise that they will never acknowledge, since with them, I will always be the one in the wrong, The Sinner. But that's ok.

Oh, and I'm going to sound like a broken record here, but I broke up with J again. He's lovely, it's just not the right fit. We both knew that from the start and I am so grateful he's been here the past few months. Nothing made me happier than coming home for lunch seeing him smoking out the window, still here.

Life is hard, but it's also beautiful.

Sullivan out.

And it IS a very Happy Friday!

I don't know what it is about Friday night, but I always want to write. I gotta say, the past month or so has been pretty intense. Work was insane. Finishing up my little side project story was emotionally draining. Talking about the past so much was not fun. But I got 'er done and I feel really good about that. And now I have 10 days off. I'm really bad at being off, I keep trying to supress the urge to check my work email already. And it's only Friday night. I think I'm going to have separation anxiety!

I came home, and to distract myself I got out my credit card and started buying stuff with my company's money. Pay my BlackBerry bill? Check. How about 3 months of unlimited yoga sessions? I have so much un-used fitness allowance, why not? (Plus I've been getting lazy.) Hmmm. Might as well book 2 sessions with my therapist next week since I haven't seen him in ages. Signed up for a Creative Writing course that starts in September. With the economy the way it is, you know we aren't getting a raise and the bonuses will be shitty. And there's way too much work stress. But after having expensed all that, I think that maybe my job isn't all that bad. Oh, I forgot. I should get a massage since they pay for that too. And my neck hurts.

Before the big story comes out, I need to figure out how to get more readers. So as internet-dummy as I am, I figured out how to add "share" buttons on the side of my blog. PLEASE, if you read something you like, hit the buttons and send it to your FaceBook, twitter, Google+. Sign up for email alerts. If I could spend an evening figuring out how to do that, you can spend 10 seconds on the follow through. I will love you forever, promise. :)

I'm reading a new book (I know, I know, I already have 2 others on the go) but it's sooooo good! It's called "Is Work Killing You?" and I definitely recommend it. Honestly, I started reading it on Monday, and I haven't had panic attacks at work in 3 days, which is a huge accomplishment for me. It's really just not worth it. It's important to work hard to earn a living, but it's not like we're curing cancer. You do what you can get done and sometimes, things fall through the cracks. That's life. Not for us over-achieving A-types, but in reality if we can't get over that, works not killing us, we're killing ourselves.

Today, I feel extremely grateful. I had lunch with my brother, always lots of laughs. I put my "Out of Office" on, see ya on September 3rd. I tried really hard to stay up long enough to see my guy last night. I lasted until about 11 pm. I woke up and the dried, dead roses in my crystal vase were replaced with new ones while I slept. (Sidepoint: where does one buy long stem roses in the middle of the night?)

Anyways. Point is, life is hard. It's stressful. But at least I don't live in a bubble anymore where I don't take life seriously because Armageddon is coming tomorrow so nothing of substance really matters. All of us have the ups and downs, the shitty times and the good ones, and I really believe that living through the tragedies makes us into more interesting, compassionate, complete. Living through the good times we replenish our stock of happiness, hopefulness, optimism. We all have so much to be thankful for and every day is a gift for us to use or waste, depending on how we choose to approach it.

The weekend is upon us! I think I'll take a cat nap and see if I can catch my guy later tonight. In the meantime, if you like to read me, spread the word. If we all have each others' back, we'll accomplish something great. Pay it back. :)

Oh, I almost forgot.

Sullivan out.

I know who you are...

This is going to be a very short blog, so please stay with me you ADD people. One of the most humiliating childhood experiences I ever had involved the struggle our family was going through with divorce and religion.

I spent most of the week with my mom, and a little bit of time with my dad, and when I was six or seven, I still did whatever each of them wanted me to do while I was with them. The JWs don't celebrate holidays, so during the day one Wednesday, I was with my mom. I was at school, it was Halloween. In gym class, we were playing a Halloween game, so of course I told my teacher I couldn't do it because I was one of Jehovah's Witnesses. I sat on the sidelines while everyone else played. Wednesday nights, Dad had us though, so he took us trick or treating. I of course, was a Princess. We ran someone's doorbell (not unlike what I did on Saturday mornings with mom), and who came to the door?

My gym teacher. He knelt down so we were at eye level and looked me in the eye and just said "I know who you are." I felt so stupid. Even though I was in grade 2 and probably shouldn't have been dealing with that conflicting parental anxiety in the first place.

I'm getting to the point. I wrote a blog the other day. A few sentences. I called it "An open letter to whatever old friend is posting shit on my blog" and you wanna know something? EVERYONE is reading it. Which means, THEY are reading it. It's by far the most popular thing I've written in ages. It's not even all that good. And they aren't supposed to be reading me since I came out of the closet as an "apostate" (which means I don't agree with everything that organization teaches and I voice it). So you know something? I just want y'all to know that I know who you are. I know you've found me out, I know you're reading me, and at the end of the day, I know you aren't allowed to and you're breaking the rules. And you're the same people who shun me on the street and act self-righteous when you post anonymous comments on my blog. But I'm happy you're reading this, because maybe someday it will open your mind and maybe next time someone you love goes through a crisis of conscience, you'll be more open, more forgiving, more loving.

If my experiences and pain can help you spare someone else having to go through that in the future, I'm happy for all of us. In the meantime, please stop posting shit on my blog.

Sullivan out.

Marketing 101

So, summer was lovely but here I am getting ready to go back to school. Did I manage to calm down my panic attacks enough to convince work I could handle it? Nope. But they'll take a chance on me. And on the flip side, I'm getting really good at using the phrase "anxiety issues" and feeling comfortable about it when I describe myself.

I'm terrible at social media, despite being in Marketing, but lately I've found a few people who are doing it right, so I'm going to try to steal their great ideas. I know I made fun of Matthew Hussey recently, but never does a day go by when he's not in my inbox (I signed up for his "newsletter") with some new post or video blog about "How to tell if he's single" or "3 Steps to being a great conversationalist" or "5 reasons people never meet their full potential". Sometimes I ignore him, despite the cute accent but more often than not, I'm intrigued. I need to start doing video blogs.

Then there's another one of my favorites Jenny Lawson. She does it right too, she posts new stuff all the time, even if it's just a crazy picture of her cat. And she has a store which is what Jersey Shore thought I should do. Sell tshirts and coffee mugs with Blackbirds on them. Poll: Would y'all buy that shit? And do you want to see pictures of my cat? I'm guessing no.

These two know what they are doing cause y'all are insatiable. It doesn't matter how many stories I write, if there's not something new, you're not interested. So I suggest that you look at my blog from a vintage shopper mentality. New and shiny is not always what's best, or highest quality.

Did you read:

A glance in the rearview mirror
Giving Thanks
Goal Setting
Being Brave 
Mad Men
Sex and the City
Puzzle Pieces
You Complete Me...?
Did you lose your keys?

Ok that's enough. If you don't like any of those you can move on from here, promise. : )

I've run into a little snag in the whole getting out of the JWs project. My girlfriend who also grew up that way and also left said the other day that it was like "Hotel California" - you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave. So they've changed all the rules on me yet again. It's funny, if they want to kick you out you can be gone within the week, but if you try to get yourself out it takes forever. Literally.

I'll keep working on it. In the meantime if you could tweet, facebook, google+ anything you read that you like on here I'd appreciate it.

And here's a picture of my Cat: (just kidding).

Sullivan out.

The Road Less Traveled

What a lovely day it is in Toronto. The weather's been perfect - summer is back!

Wrapping up a perfect weekend, I really wish I had a cleaning lady. There's dishes to wash and laundry to do and I just want to curl up with my new books and be lazy.

Friday night I went to see my oldest friend in TO, Donia. We went for a walk and had the greatest sushi ever, laughed our way through conversation about her terrible new enemy, cancer. It's not a funny situation, but she's one of the best people I've ever met and she's meeting it the same way she did the first time. With grace, dignity and humour. Let's all pray/send positive energy, whatever it is you believe in. You may not know her, but if you did, you would love her immediately. So just do it. Then I went to see my guy.

We got up on Saturday, went out for breakfast at a greasy spoon, watched a movie. Now, coming out of this weekend I have a couple of suggestions for you on what you should watch/read next. This is based on a TRUE story, you might have missed it because it's a foreign film. Set in France, it tells the story of an unlikely friendship. A rich guy who became a quadriplegic from a paragliding accident hires a young guy from the projects to be his caretaker. Trust me, it's a good story: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1675434/

So I know I keep saying I broke up with J., but right now things are really good. We always have tons of fun together, it's just logistically almost impossible, working completely different schedules. But lately we've both been doing a little give and take on the time management. Tuesday nights are just for us, sometimes I come home and take a nap after work and then go for a little visit once he gets off work late. It's not a perfect situation, but we'll see how it goes.

He is a great guy though and he takes care of me. God knows, it's been a long time since anyone has done that. He makes me dinner after work on his days off. He actually researched the JWs and found support sites where I could interact with other people in the same situation. This weekend, he brought me a book called "Further Along the Road Less Traveled". You should read it. It's written by a psychologist and he starts it off with "Life is Hard." And it is, but this book is a very positive workbook/advice piece that would apply to anyone who is facing any kind of challenges in life. We've all got 'em. And we can feel sorry for ourselves, bury our head in the sand, run and hide. Or we can stand up and face them, learn how to cope and how to heal. If you need some positive reinforcement and practical tips on how to do that, buy this book. (Also on a much less socially responsible theme, I'm reading Game of Thrones and I'm addicted. Don't read it after you've been drinking though, it's almost impossible to keep everyone straight even when you're trying really hard to pay attention!)

Saturday night one of my best girlfriends got us tickets to my favorite band, Blue Rodeo. How many times have I seen them, you're asking? 573. No, not really, but almost. I ran into Jim Cuddy once in Kensington Market and I told him I loved him, but he just laughed. (He'll come around eventually, just like Clooney. Also, "Try" just never really gets old, does it?)

Today, I woke up early and made my way across town (I hate the TTC. I only take it for people I really love.) and ran into subway closures, shuttle buses, all the things I hate about public transportation. Eventually, I made it to Etobicoke and Leslie and T. were waiting for me outside the station, watching a mother swallow feed her baby. I LOVE this family. Dating that guy was one of the best decisions I ever made, because I can't imagine life without him, his parents and his daughter. When I told my brother yesterday I was going sailing, he said, "Oh, with your other family?" and they are my family now. I'm not sure what, besides an extreme human decency would make a family take on someone as messed up as I was 2 years ago when they met me. I've been to more Sunday night dinners than I can remember, actually I was wrong when I said it was a long time since anyone has taken care of me. They do. I'm always invited to Mother's Day, Father's Day, Easter, Christmas,Thanksgiving. Leslie and I go to shows together and Ron signs his emails "Your Toronto Dad". We go sailing on the weekend, hang out at the yacht club on Toronto Island. They tell all their friends at the club that I'm adopted.

When they drop me off at the end of the day at Harbourfront so I won't have to make my way home on the subway, everyone is always looking at me like this is strange. So today I hopped off the boat and said to the couple who were openly staring at me: "Yah, my taxi is a yacht."

This blog is already too long, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't say something about the JWs. I disassociated myself, which is a small victory, given that they make the same announcement as they do when you are disfellowshipped, so no one will actually know it was my choice this time. I feel bad, guilt has been so ingrained in my life growing up with them, I don't know how to feel any differently. I regret the fact that my choice will hurt some people, and it wasn't easy that this will hurt people who are absent in my life, but who I still love.

I feel good though, knowing that this time, it's my decision, my choice. I haven't felt like me in years. I get glimpses, yes, but the real me? She left me a long time ago. Lately, I think she's making her way back. And this time, I'm going to take care of her.

Watch that movie and read that book. : )

Sullivan out.

An open letter to whatever old friend is posting shit on my blog

Bring it on.

Ps. I know it's you Whiteman. Cut it out. I disassociated myself. You're not allowed to talk to me.

The Skies are Blue - No Dark Allowed

I have to say, when I check my blog stats, I love how y'all (mostly) just google "margaux blackbird". It makes me feel like you're actually looking for me, not just stumbling across this page. (Stumblers, I love you too!)

I'm feeling super chipper today, it's been a LONG time since I've gone a whole day without a panic attack. I've been kicking ass and taking names at work this week though, so that helps. Everyone is on vacation, so Liz and I have been able to take breaks and sit in the sunshine in the park across the street. That helps.

I said goodbye to my mom and sister and disassociated myself from the JWs. That helps. I think the Universe wanted to make me make sure I was really, really ready because I've run into about 6 of them in the past few days, which is a little out of the ordinary. I'm ready Universe, stop it! Go pick on someone else. :)

So being that I'm feeling so happy, let me depress you with another story about Julia. While I realize now it's really difficult to write someone else's story, I think it's important for us to recognize mental health issues as just as serious as any other health problem. She thinks she's bi-polar, has always had a problem being inside her own head. 

Which can be terrifying. Especially in her case, when her parents were so dead set against admitting anything was wrong. Personally, I've been in therapy for 4 years. I don't go all that often anymore, but if I leave it too long, I can feel that something's wrong. I've become one of those annoying people who starts sentences with "My therapist says..." :) But my therapist is fucking awesome so this is how it is. 

Apparently, when she was trying to decide whether to get treatment her dad called her a "wuss". She wrote in her diary that killing herself was easier than getting help. But then she also wrote that writing could save her life. I can totally relate to that, if it wasn't for this blog, I'd be much more crazy than I am today. When she finally decided to check herself into the psych ward, her mom called. She sounded so tired, so worried, so scared...so annoyed. And what does Julia say? She wants to tell the truth but she keeps her mouth shut so people around her won't be hurt. 

Being afraid you'll hurt yourself is a very serious problem. It doesn't help though if when you're trying to get that help everyone around you acts like it's their problem. I get it, we all worry about the people we love. But putting that burden on them when they are fragile? Not the greatest idea ever. 

Julia doesn't really want to die though. There's an exciting paragraph about how her boyfriend Cory came to visit her in the hospital and brought her the greatest dinner ever. She couldn't understand why he was still there, but she needed him and he was. I know him, he's a good guy. :)

I asked J the other day why he puts up with my constant shit, and he just smiled and said he guessed he was a sucker for punishment. Thank God for these guys. We all know they're rare, most single men are full of shit. (No offence men!)

I think the thing we're all striving for is not wealth or recognition, as nice as those things are. We just want to be loved for who we are and find a way to inner peace. I'm almost there. Julia is working on it. She wrote this:

Close your eyes,
Be at peace
Watch the skies
and flocks of geese.

Hold your breath
Hold it tight
There's life in death
Just to make it right.

The day is new
Today is now
Skies are blue-
No dark allowed.

Dreamcatcher

My lovely boyfriend took me to "Taste of the Danforth" on Sunday, just because I'd never been. I guess even a few years into my new life there are still some things I haven't tried yet. :)

It was a gorgeous day, actually August has been phenomenal weather all-round here in Toronto. So we're walking around and he buys me a Blackbird tattoo (Temporary! But now I want a real one...) and we get something to eat, have a drink on a patio. We were having a good time and eventually got around to talking about why am I such a crazy when I'm in a relationship, when we always have so much fun? The answer is pretty straightforward: severe trust/abandonment issues coupled with the idea that I'm running out of time to have a kid. It's hard to just calm down and enjoy the ride when you're secretly looking for a baby-daddy. :)

Eventually, as the crowds were getting crazy and we were getting ready to leave, we walk past a psychic sitting out on the sidewalk and I stop. He just looks and me, pulls out a $20 bill and says "sit down".

Now, I've never done this before except with Liz and she knows me inside and out so it's not usually a surprise that she's pretty accurate. This woman though, has never even seen me before. I wasn't going to give her anything to go on, so I wouldn't talk. She did. She starts off by telling me the past few years have been shit but I'm finally getting better and things are just going to keep on improving. She said that through this process I've grown a lot closer to my father and that was a good thing. She said I'm a mirror image of him...and in a lot of ways, I am. And I'm proud to be.

Then she said I had a brother and a sister and things were strained with my sister and I should just stop trying to fix it.

She said I was a writer, I was pretty good and I should stick with it and stop being so obsessed about work, even though I feel like I'm years behind my colleagues and trying to play catch-up. And I should edit what I write more. Got it. (Sorry y'all I'm usually a quick and dirty kinda girl on here but I've actually waited a few days to post this one.)

Then she says "What do you want to know about the ghost?" Krista and I have a ghost at home that we really never tell anyone about but he's there. He died here, back in the day. Her psychic said so too. :)

She said I was afraid I'd never have a kid but I shouldn't worry about it because I'm having a daughter. And that I should calm down about the relationship I'm in right now, because he's a good guy and he really cares.

It's funny, I posted something on FB not that long ago, it was a rant by a JW elder on shunning disfellowshipped people, and he quotes Matthew, where Jesus said he came not to put peace but a sword. Fathers against sons, mothers against daughters.

Finally we're wrapping up and she says, do you have anything to ask me? Yes. Will my mother ever have a relationship with me again? She flips over a card. It's all swords. I know the answer.

So, I still don't know how much I buy into the whole paranormal thing. I know I love True Blood and I wouldn't mind being a vampire so long as I could drink fairy blood and walk around in the sun. :)

But psychics? Who knows. I wondered about it years ago, because often when I dreamt about something, it would happen shortly afterwards. But maybe it's just a matter of us being more in tune with ourselves, the Universe and each other and if we were, we'd all pick up more on other people's aura.

Whatever her deal was, between that conversation and finishing up my little (BIG) side-project on Friday, I feel better about everything and much more at peace. The whole reason I signed up for that (besides my personal writing aspirations) was to let people out there know that if you're in a situation where you aren't happy or it's the wrong fit for you, you really should get out of it. Even if it's the hardest thing you'll ever have to do. The pain that comes with making a big change is only temporary and the fear subsides.

Looking at the the people in my life now, and where I'm at, I have to admit, I've been blessed. I ran into 3 old friends in the past couple of days and instead of feeling like there's some kind of gaping wound in my heart, it was more of a slight pinprick. The old memories are fading fast now and everyday being replaced with new ones. I really am very happy. I'm pretty sure my dreams are going to keep coming true and at the end of the day, I have the solace of knowing my daughter will definitely not have to grow up in a cult. :)

I like the way it hurts

One of the best friends I've ever had told me something today. She survived cancer, went through hell. Beat it. But it came back. This time, it's probably much more serious. And last time it was serious. Hearing something like that puts everything else into perspective.

All of my ramblings on here about whether or not to leave the j-dubs or how to move on from that...not all that important at the end of the day. Do you really care who I'm dating? Nope.

If you want to know though, I messed it up again. It's not you, it's me. Seriously J.

I'm going to write a "Dear Walter" note and disassociate myself from the JWs. Life is too short to waste any more time worrying about your cult-shit. I have to say, I had a good childhood. We all did. Yes, it was hard being the weird kid in class. Not going to birthday parties, not doing any of the holiday stuff, not standing for the National Anthem.

But we had a whole community/family that took care of us. And we had each other. Here, on the other side, more and more of us are re-finding each other and re-establishing those connections. That community though is gone. They can't help themselves. I ran into one of my ex-best friends the other day and the guilt was top of mind. They look at you with this extreme sadness and say they miss you. Like you're the one ruining their life. But at the end of the day, you are still right here. You're the exact same person you were when you were best friends.  They have your phone number. They just choose not to have anything to do with you. They think their choice will force you to come back, to have their love again you just have to get in line and do what's expected of you.

Truth is, love, true love, is not conditional. To accept someone for exactly who they are, with all their faults (and being completely aware of your own), that is love.

So hey, I'm not perfect. But I do love you J. And I'm happy that the friends I have now are people who are going to be with me forever, whatever choices I make in life. This weekend sucks, but tomorrow might be better. Let's all send positive vibes to my good friend who is fighting the hardest battle. She used to call me Streetwalker Barbie. Sometimes good friends are actually assholes. : )

"Streetwalker Barbie" out.

Freebird

Wanna know a secret? Ok, it's not really a secret. But for most of you who know me now, you didn't know me then. Today is my wedding anniversary. Like that night, before I got married, I can't sleep tonight. (Like I actually sleep, ever.)

I still managed to look pretty in the morning, so I'm hoping that a decade later I can still pull that off (obviously I was a child bride). Interestingly, my recent little side project is finally wrapping up today (thank God). And it ends with a photoshoot in the park, doing the same thing in the same place I was with Travis all those years ago. 

Honestly? I still miss him. He is one of the smartest, most talented, funny people I have ever met. He decided he wanted to learn to play the guitar and instead of starting with the basics, the first song he learned was Freebird. I'm not sure if he was an overachiever or just arrogant (ok family, he was arrogant).

It's ironic actually if you know the lyrics. And I dare you to try to learn the solo. But, I don't really miss the electric guitar sitting in the living room and listening to him trying to learn a new song, playing it over and over and over, making mistakes and starting at the beginning again...in a way though, my life is kind of like that annoying repetition now. 

Trying something new, making a mistake, starting over, trying again, getting a little bit further into it before I mess it up again. But it's ok. Because in the end, Travis didn't give up and he was a rockstar at playing Freebird. And I'll get there with life, if I don't give up either. 

I can't help but wonder if he plays it for his new wife? And I can't stop the series of events I've put into motion over the past 2 months. My dad, always the voice of reason, cautioned me about doing this. And I listened to him and thought about it, I did. But at the end of the day, life, fate, the Universe, whatever you want to call it is pulling me in this direction and I had to go along with it. And I have a pretty new blue dress, so it's going to be alright.

Cat is on my lap and she's yawning, so I'm going to stop listening to Freebird on loop and go back to bed for an hour or so.  See you on the other side of August 9th. 

Hurts So Good

I hear a lot of little tidbits here and there, here's one I'm going to share with you today.

Jerry Seinfeld was asked recently if work ever becomes easy or if it's a constant struggle. Now, most of us would trade places in life with Jerry Seinfeld in a second. Money? Yup. Got it. Fancy cars? You know it. Too many to count. A sense of humour and work ethic that's made him famous, rich and likeable? Check. His response to the question was: No, it's never just easy. But your blessing in life is finding the torture that you are comfortable with. 

I'm sure some people know just what their calling is in life, right away. That doesn't mean that work or family is never stressful, but they know they are exactly where they need to be. My grandma's sister was a nurse, and she said there wasn't a day she didn't wake up wanting to go to work. My uncle Ken spent his life pursuing his art, and that wasn't a salaried, pensioned 9-5. But he was doing what he loved. I bet most of us haven't been that lucky.

It may be the three days off work talking, but I'm feeling really happy right now. Am I in the right fit for me, long term? No, absolutely not. But I'm learning a lot, it looks good on my resume and I doubt I'll be in a situation like this again, working with brilliant people every day and even having a manager who cares enough about my development and happiness that she constantly spends her precious time thinking about how to help me make it all little bit easier to handle.

I won't lie. My job is great, but it's stressful. I have panic attacks pretty much every day. On the weekends, I've been pursuing the writing gig and especially lately with my new little project, there's been a lot of delving into the past. That gives me panic attacks too. The past little while, life has been emotional torture. Not because of external factors really, but I had yet another dream that I was with the old people from my past life and I actually woke myself up from a sleep panic attack. (Those are so rare and special. LOL.)

On the other hand, I also woke up this morning with my guy all wrapped around me like a vine around a tree. He's very affectionate. We took a walk down by the water, got some food, met up with my girlfriend. Another one of my constantly supportive friends who has turned into family slowly but surely. Recently, I've been to her mom's funeral and her dad's birthday. My ex's kid texted me yesterday that she missed me and we should make plans to meet up. I had spent the afternoon at a spa with my cousin, went to a concert with my brother. These people, have made up my "family" over the past couple of years.

And yes, I can dwell on the people I've lost, or I can focus on the ones I've gained through the process. Trying to get this story out has been the torture I'm not quite comfortable with yet, Jerry Seinfeld. I'm getting there though, one day at a time. My brother said yesterday he thought my new project was going to help bring some of the closure that I need so desperately. I'm sure everyone around me is sick of listening to the never ending delving into the past I got over awhile ago, but that has re-surfaced recently and consumed my thoughts.

Stick with me guys, I'm almost there. Once I get this project completed, I'll be back here with you in the present. Is it torture I'm comfortable with? Not yet. But soon it will be.

I went to bed early last night but I woke up to the oddest thing. There were beer coasters everywhere, on all the window ledges, one even got stuck until my AC. Apparently since I went to bed early last night my friends at the bar had a game on who could get a coaster through my window. These guys would die in the Hunger Games (just watched it this week, how could I have missed such a great movie?).  That's actually a funny story but I'll save in for next time. For now - what is the torture you can live with? And does it really "hurt so good"?

Mine does. :)

Hello Tomorrow

I supposed by now y’all are getting a little bit bored with my constant struggle with my mother, with leaving the J-dubs, with trying to find a man who will just love me for who I am.

So I have a treat. I’m going to have a guest appearance on the blog, at least for a little while. I know there are people like me out there who have suffered abuse or loss, who have fought to stay grounded during emotionally distressing times.

They live amongst us, like I do. Anyone who ran into me at my local bar on the weekend or saw me in a meeting at work would think I’m normal. That I’m happy. When I fell down last weekend and gashed my face open, my guy took me to Emergency. I sat in the waiting room at St. Mike’s, the same room I lied in for hours, handcuffed to a stretcher in my negligee, after the cops basically broke into my apartment, beat me up and dragged me off to the hospital. Without a sweater, or shoes. In the middle of the night, in the middle of winter. Just because the JWs called them.

I couldn’t do it, so I left. I went to a walk-in where my baby doctor googled what she should do about my lip laceration. At least now I don’t need botox. :)

I get up every morning, and I try so hard to just be normal. But it’s a struggle. The other night, I met this girl, let’s call her Julia. Julia is young and pretty. She has a lovely boyfriend (we’ll get into that later). She’s a writer, but more of a poet than me.

Julia seems fine. She’s fun. She’s complicated. She likes country AND metal music. She loves her family. On the outside? Everything’s great. But on the inside, she’s just like me. She’s afraid to tell her family the truth because of the way they always react. Families can’t help it. They worry because they love us. Their worry puts a burden on us though, to pretend we’re ok when we’re not.  She worries about her mom, who constantly makes her feel guilty without even trying.

The thing that gets me about her though is she didn’t give up either. Instead of running away from life, she writes her poetry, she loves her boyfriend and she’s optimistic. She wrote this:

Pain, sorrow

Say goodbye.
Hello tomorrow;
Blue skies.

When I told her I wanted to write about her, without any hesitation, she dug into her purse and pulled out her diary. And she just handed it over to me.

I think we all feel the pressure of maintaining that perfect appearance in front of the world but maybe if more of us just put ourselves out there as who we are, we wouldn’t feel quite so alone. Right now, I don’t. I really think it’s ok to not know what the next step is. If we are standing our ground in life while tidal waves wash over us, we will eventually, eventually come out of it as a stronger, better, more compassionate person. Through our pain we can learn more than we ever would have without it.

So here’s to Blue Skies and long weekends. More to come of my new friend’s story. And her boyfriend Cory. See? I’m a poet too. :)