Hey Soul Sister!

I woke up at 3 am and went to the kitchen. I thought I'd get a bowl of rice and a glass of water. Oh the perks of living in sin with an Asian, there's always fresh rice.

Jay: Bad dreams?
Me: Is there any other kind?

Yesterday was my sister's birthday. I guess she's 41 now. The days are long but the years are short. I don't really think about my family. Both my therapists are not fans, they think of them more like an infected limb I should cut off and be done with it before it spreads all through me. Does that hurt? Don't do it. 

They are probably right. But my sister. We've been through a lot together. A lot of her problems, she was never around for mine. I was always there for her though. I haven't seen her or my mother in over three years. Since she invited me and then uninvited me to her wedding. One of the biggest traumas in my life, I have to admit. When she gave me the invitation I said, are you sure? She said of course, you're my sister. Then the elders got involved and even though I'd bought a dress, wrote a card, had the wedding present, I wasn't allowed to go.

My family came to Toronto and drove by my place on their way to the wedding. I was sitting on the window in my pjs smoking. Yah, I used to smoke. They honked and waved like it was any other day of the week. I went out and drank until I didn't have any more feelings.

That was a long time ago now and I've found mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers. Not by blood but out of love. I understand why my therapists and everyone else wants me to stay away from my family. The blood ties though are strong and pull at you every once in awhile. These people are pretty much strangers to me at this point but I still miss them. And wherever my sister is, I hope she's happier than I was in that life and wish her all the best.

Sullivan out.

Lest we Forget

You know what I hate about all my job jumping? I never have the right clothes. So I have a closet full of thousands of dollars of corporate stuff which I hope I don't need ever again but if things get bad I might have to go back. I don't get rid of them.

Then I have my dog walking/work in a flower shop stuff. I can't get rid of those either. I still have to do both those things.

Now I run a boutique, money is scarce because an MBA is too expensive, but I need to dress the right way. Apparently after yesterday, that means layers and layers of clothes that reflect the store and during Christmas market the door never closes. I'm happy there but still cold to my bones from that never ending shift. I guess it doesn't matter what I wear because I have this awesome coat and a hat and mitts and that's what I'll be wearing every day since winter came way too early.

That's the thing Game of Thrones got right about: winter, it is coming. You just don't know when. This time last year I was out in a sweatshirt playing ball with my dog in the leaves. This year, different story.

Let me be devil's advocate for a minute and have a say. I'm late on my Remembrance Day blog. I was processing everything. Y'all know I'm not racist or have any sense of superiority being a white, straight girl with blonde hair. *hello asian guy in my bed, italian dog (also in my bed), black hair stylist/awesome friend, indian boss and all my gay besties.*

I kinda don't think what we did to Don Cherry was right. Am I all for immigrants? Sure. But Trudeau has put us in this spot where he spends so much money on that, our veterans suffer. They can't afford to live. But Trudeau will give millions of dollars to terrorists who have killed our people. So maybe Don should have been mad at Trudeau instead. I don't know. But didn't we love Cherry all these years because you never knew what he would wear and what he would say next?

If you don't want to wear a poppy, that's your choice. You probably don't have both sets of grandfathers who fought the war, lived through it, but it took it's toll. There are no winners or losers in war, just survivors. And yes that is a very thinly veiled reference to my life. 

I'm proud to be Canadian and to honour the ones that came before me by wearing a poppy. Should he have mentioned his feelings on TV? Probably not. But hear me out. Isn't that one of the freedoms our forefathers fought for? Freedom of speech.

The world is changing and we need to change with it. We're breaking a lot of unwritten rules that used to be lived by. But where does it end? Where does the freedom come from if we have to watch every word we say, everything we do. If that's your thing, might as well just  join a cult :)

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.(MLK) I think we all deserve the freedom of speech and the life that we were granted by our forefathers. For that I am grateful and sorry for those of us who don't get a second chance. No one is perfect. At least he's not suggesting we build a wall. :) 

Sullivan out. Peace. 

Look What I Found

"Somebody who loves me someone who cares. Another piece of my heart lying on the ground."

I was talking to a friend this morning. He asked how I was. I said I'd been running around, working a lot, and two of my best friends and two of their kids all have birthdays in a three week span. I told Jay yesterday maybe it was better to be in the cult because birthdays are a lot of work.

Jay has always been so overboard on the holidays with me. Perfect Christmas trees that we put up in November and take down in January. Perfect presents. He always said he felt so sad I didn't get to have holidays growing up. I didn't understand why he was sad. For me it was just par for the course. It took me a long time to catch up with even remembering when the holidays were.

My dad wasn't in the cult so he would give me birthday and Christmas presents. My mother would make me give them back. I was maybe 6?

Being there with my girlfriends kids and seeing pictures, there were presents and cake and candles and happiness. I finally understood why he felt bad for me.

I still don't really feel bad for myself. Because look at what I found. The best friends, the best guy. Real, not fake happiness.

Maybe it's time to let the old life die. :)

Sullivan out.

Take your broken heart and turn it into art.

That's a Meryl Streep quote, maybe one of the best actresses who has ever perfected her craft.

I've been living in a strange dream lately. For the better part of the last three years, doctors had me convinced I was dying. I'm totally not. My psychic pretty much said I'm living forever and Jay was just like, yah I knew that. The thing about being sick is if you believe it, you are. It's when you stop believing that everything becomes okay. I know some people don't have that option, but for me I think I was dying from a broken heart and bad choices I made because of that. So I had the power to make that go away. It's like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz she always had the power she just need to learn it for herself.

I was walking to work the other day and the Jdubs had one of their stupid book booths up near my store. I usually ignore them but I had to stop. The effing Watchtower is like 4 pages now. I picked one up because I couldn't believe it. So of course they start talking to me. I put it back and said "You guys really cheaped out on the Watchtower". Before they could respond I said, I'm an apostate so you really shouldn't talk to me but I hope you have a nice day.

Then I went to work and didn't even think about them. It's not love, it's not hate. It's just indifference. That's when I knew I was over it. It took me ten years but I'm a Pisces. I had to be sad, I had to be angry. I couldn't forgive myself so I hurt myself.

I'm lucky. I have amazing people who never gave up on me. I had one day off this week and I spent it with great friends and my dog. I get to come home every night to the best guy I've ever met. I want everyone who struggles to know it does get better.

So we're lying on a blanket in the park and Max is wandering around meeting everyone and we're brainstorming ideas for my book title. We all know there's a lot of dark. Thus, the blackbirds. I tell my friend "Blackbird" is already taken. He's like, okay let's find something else. I said I had a friend who was a poet and he wrote me this beautiful poem about how the blackbird turns into a white dove. I want the book to be real, sad, happy, funny, horrific at times. Just real. I said, what about "Blackbird, White Love". Cause despite all my flaws y'all know I'm all love motherfuckers.

He was like it's perfect. And it's not everyday you get perfect, but when it happens it's awesome.

DON'T STEAL MY BOOK TITLE.

Sullivan out.

Beautiful Trauma

The older you get the more you realize that your problems are not worse than anyone else's, just different. My guy always says "First World Problems, Margaux". He didn't exactly grow up here so he gets to say that.

I can't help but wonder though, can two broken people make one whole amazing person if they are together? Because we've all got our demons. I'm throwing the question out there but here's what I think: yes and no. We need to keep working on ourselves. Every day. If it's a bad day, go to bed and start over again tomorrow. Tomorrow is always new with no mistakes in it.

I don't believe though we're meant to go it alone in life. Whether it's a romantic partner, a best friend, a mentor or family, we need someone to be the mirror back to us. Because what we see in the mirror is not always accurate. Unless you're a millenial, it's probably self-defeating sometimes what you see when you look at yourself. (No hate for millenials but they think they are the shit.)

I'm a late bloomer. Took me a long time to realize the type of people I needed around me. I tried to go it alone for a long time because I couldn't figure it out. Then...I found people as perfectly imperfect as I was. Jay is my real mirror, him and my best girlfriends. We're honest with each other, we keep trying to improve and we make each other better. Together? I think we can be amazing and make something beautiful out of the ashes of our pasts. :)

Sullivan out.

Ready to Run

When I got married, I knew I'd get divorced. My dad was walking me down the aisle and before we started he was like, we don't have to do this. We have a car outside. We can just leave. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. 

One of my favorite ex boyfriends used to call me "Little Flight Risk". He was a great guy. Wanted to marry me and have kids. Been there, done that. Not the having kids part but the wanting to.

I've become famous for leaving jobs. A friend called me the other day, he was like, just checking in. Wanted to see if you still had a job.

It's difficult to trust anyone when you've lost everyone. I really don't think I'm cut out to be a corporate Bay Street bitch anymore, so I think I'll just open a flower shop and put that MBA to good use. :)

The guy I'm with now? Oh, he's not my type. And how many times have I run away? I can't count. But. The other night I was freaking out because I was writing a paper and my printer stopped working. I'm old school and I cannot work on the internet. I needed my paper copies of all these studies I'm analyzing. So he went to an internet cafe (yes those still exist apparently) at 1 am and printed them all off. He won't let me quit my MBA (I have one course left so that would be stupid) but he doesn't want me to be unhappy. He always tells me to just go back to the flower shop and learn as much as I can from my boss and we'll figure out how to get our own thing going.

Sounds good to me. On one hand, I'm like where exactly was all this acceptance, support and love when I was growing up? On the other hand, I finally found it.

Yesterday was his birthday and I always think a birthday is a new beginning. If I were him, I'd start the new year by kicking me to the curb, but he hasn't so I'm pretty sure we're end game. I have loved very deeply in the past. While I still try to be a good person, I also try not to love too much because it always ends up hurting me. Before that happens, I run away. There is however something to be said for sticking it out.

Oh, the perils of self-improvement. This time I'm not leaving because it's worth the work to stay. Dammit. Guess I'm just finally in the right place. To quote RuPaul (which I never do) "If you can't love yourself, how the hell are you ever gonna love someone else? Can I get an Amen!" Amen.

Sullivan out.

Life will be the death of me...

...and you. At this point Chelsea Handler should be paying me to plug her book. But it really is a great title. I'm all about the titles takes me longer to pick one than writing a blog.

So y'all know I'm brutal truth like she is just a little more lady like. What saves people like us is a sense of humour. This past week I was trying to cheer up a friend going through a rough time. But her close friend was too. My best friend says I'm hilarious because no matter what life throws at me I'm always doing triage on all my friends. So we call. And call. And text. She will not pick up. When she finally does, she says I'm not suicidal I just don't want to live anymore. That was the funniest thing anyone has said to me in a long time. So we laughed like real bring tears to your eyes laughter.

You're not allowed to laugh if you've never dealt with depression. I'm a huge mental health advocate I think I've had seven maybe eight therapists? One guy has always been THE ONE. Then this guy in Nova Scotia is my number two. If you've been through it, you know someone can make that comment and it's funny.

The good thing about life is we're all like the ocean. Or maybe just us Pisces. It comes in waves. And I'm on top of a wave right now and maybe next time it'll be me saying something so real. One of us is always on top of the wave in a lifeboat. Our roles go back and forth. But we get to shore together.

End of the day, I believe in women helping each other because we understand each other. Sometimes you meet a good guy who tries to be part of the solution. Who built that lifeboat I pick people out of the water from? It's the nicest guy I ever met. Who cares about my family and friends even if he gets nothing in return. He would open his wallet and take the shirt off his back for anyone who needed it.

I have felt like my friend does now.

I'm not suicidal, I just don't want to live anymore. Look hard enough though, and there's always a reason to get up the next morning. For me it's my boyfriend/man-friend/husband/life partner/lover/whatever you want to call him, my dog, my grandma, my beautiful niece, my friends, my studies, my books...the people who read what I write the list goes on...I have so much to be grateful for.

We aren't getting out of here alive. Might as well be real, be honest, live well, die well. I tip my hat to Chelsea for writing such an honest book.

All of us are Game of Thrones cult kids. So I deflected. I was like new season starts Sunday lets make a deadline and place our bets on who will take the Throne. And you know what? We all had tons of laughs and made it through the last few days on text message and video calls.

I think she feels better.

It's that easy to be an ally to someone suffering from depression. Don't tell them they are being too emotional, make them laugh. When I've gone through it in the past, Jay always says "we got this". Knowing someone has your back even if it's possible your character will kill their character in the final season of games makes you keep fighting. Cause you have backup. Him and I? We dress up like I'm Uma and he's one of the crazy 88s every Halloween (Kill Bill) we kinda look like them in the movie. So we are basically trying to kill each other once a year. People cheer at us on the street and yell KILL BILL! because it's actually really funny and yes that yellow jumpsuit cost me a lot but was totally worth it to never ever have to wear heels on Halloween.

Then we live to see another day. Except you girls are all going down in this final Season. I'm taking the Throne. :) 

I never do this anymore but here's your "Friday morning life is good" song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FDcTyyXQb8

"People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one, and we've just begun.. Even though we aint got money I'm so in love with you hunny. Everything is going to be alright. Everything will bring a chain of love. Now I see a family where there once was none." Good song. We haven't just begun. We've been up and down this road for almost a decade. This time is different. Lindsay says I love everyone and I do, but I'm through with the game. Life led me back to him. From now on...I love Jay more than anyone except Max and Grandma. And now I have a niece. And a family. He's end game, this life. I believed love never dies, but it does and then eventually like spring it starts again. New. We re-wrote the stars because we are not supposed to end up together.

This guy will build me as many lifeboats as I need so we're all okay until life is the death of us :)

Sullivan (Snow/the Bride) out. If you've never watched those shows you won't get the reference. 

Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness of Being Happy

I feel sorry for millenials. All true forms of art seem to be dying off with our childhood heroes. And we're not kidding anyone, we came way before the millenials. Bowie, Prince, Michael Jackson *oh yah i totally went there* everyone who has ever written a book worth reading? Dead. Except Margaret Atwood and I have some suspicions that she's actually dead pretending to be alive, I met her (she's dead).  I was looking at books at a book store the other day. They had roughly drawn stick pictures in them. I'm like this make the New York Times? *she shakes her head* and remembers she has overdue library books.

I'm as much to blame as anyone else. Everyone is like, you're a writer? Yes. You have a book? Yes. Is it hidden in some secret file on my computer that I intent to leave a letter with the instructions on how to find it with Jay for when I die? Yes.

When I get upset, I don't say, I'm feeling conflicted. I need to take some time to figure out the most positive course of action. One that will enable me and those I care for to successfully navigate this situation and ensure the best possible outcome.

I send my best a friend a text that says "FML". While I truly love the eff word deeply, I'm not using my better words anymore.

You know what's a great word? Melancholy. 

On that note, I tolerate my MBA, with only one course left after this one, I don't care anymore. I'm struggling to figure out why I cared in the first place. All that time and money. Will those three little letters after my name change anything? NO. Life doesn't care if you are smarter than someone else. The jdubs discourage education which is why I went ALL THE WAY. What I learned was I was always this smart and now I've spent so much money just to prove it to other people, who let's be honest, don't give a fuck.

Charisma, courage, passion, those are what you should do an MBA in. I'm so bored with myself, I don't know how other people even put up with me. Like let me help you with your marketing strategy, throw me a math problem I can't solve or a business I can't turn around by working your assets and assessing your balance sheets. Boring.

Today, I am definitely supposed to be writing a paper. Instead? I lure my boyfriend/manfriend/lifepartner/husband whatever you want to call him to kensignton market so I can buy sage to burn all the negative energy out of our place and get new earrings. I really just wanted to go to Blackbird Baking and Courage my Love and all the places that stole all the best names.

Then we got Vietnamese food and we're running late. So I'm like just drop me off at the market (the other market) cause Ken would would be very upset if I didn't show on a Saturday. Dudes there alone. I'm like where's Robin? She couldn't work. I've offered 17 million times to work for free on the weekends. I jump behind the cash and start ringing people in and packaging flowers. Sweep the floors and take out the garbage. Yes, I love my marketing job. Yes, I'm somewhat important. You cannot however compete for working in a flower shop for minimum wage. I was so lucky I got to do that. Coming home and your whole place smells like beauty and hope.

Some guy was saying shit about our green roses which are actually my favorite and I wanted to punch him. That's your passion, charisma and courage. But the customer is always right. I have an MBA bud. These green ish roses are amazing and by the way, I know your girlfriend and in her culture those white ones mean death and she believes it. Have fun with buying those. :)

Life is more fun when it's fun. Bur damn tomorrow I gotta stop breathing in the flowers and write that paper. Finish line is in sight. Hey, I still remember how to use my words so I'm betting on that to get me through to the other side. My massage therapist is like why do you hate yourself so much? Your body doesn't like you. You'll probably come in here next time saying you're doing your PhD. NO EFFING WAY. Thanks for looking out for me though Craig. :)

PS. I get over this, I might do my PhD, (I'm so so so sorry Jay) cause I've always thought I'd be a great therapist. But definitely a long enough break is planned where I will be the best partner and dog mom and make up for this MBA mess. 

Sullivan out.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

This is about Nothing.

well it's happened. i feel like i need to write, but i have nothing to say. not entirely true, i have lots of things to say. but there are thing i protect and won't talk about, like family and friends. unless it's positive. if you want to know who in my family has the worst secrets (and it's a toss up, spoiler alert!) you'll have to wait for the book, which will only be published after i die. :)

speaking of death, jay was amazed last night to hear i'd already planned every detail if max's funeral. hey, he's a big dog, he's not doing to live forever. i've planned my funeral, why shouldn't i plan his? his is going to be so much cuter than mine. when all you do is work and study sometimes your mind wanders.

i'm a planner. i figure i feel too much, been through too much. i'm a pisces, so whatever you feel about anything, double that, add in some drama and then double it again. if max just dropped dead they'd probably have to put me in a psych ward. he is the best thing that ever happened to me. that homeless helpless huge puppy. i always call him my love because he is. with my funeral no one is coming. (except a very small guest list, you're probably not on it and i've paid jay to get bouncers.) max though, is everyone's dog and it would be selfish of me not to share the grief this time. so i plan it now, halfway thorough his life and i get 5 years to come to peace with it. which we all know i never will but at least i'll be better prepared.

turns out, both my "kids" are almost exactly me. max is having a sleepover party tonight so i'm home alone with rosie. she kinda scares me. if max exudes the please love me, i'll do anything for you side of me, rosie is the other side of the bed. hey, i know how to stand up for myself and i've been doing it for years. that's why y'all love me right? i've done the brave honest thing till it hurt. rosie takes it one step further. i could learn a thing or two from that tiny little kitten. jay says rosies' go-to is: lick, lick, BITE. she's your friend. until she's not. then she makes you bleed. for all my friends with kids, this excludes children, she respects them and would never bite your child. please don't be afraid to come over.  

in the end, she spends a lot of time in her cage. she'll scratch until you bleed, then go pee on your bed. she'll eat your flowers just because she knows you love them more than anything else in the home. stuff you don't care about? she'll never touch it. but she WILL destroy your roses. the cage never teaches her a lesson. it's almost like she likes it in there, quiet time alone to contemplate how she'll take over the world. she becomes totally calm. it's disturbing. she is however very loving and loyal to her half-life partner (cause cats never die) max.

at the end of the day, all i can say is thank the universe i have a boyfriend / man-friend/ lover/ husband/ best friend whatever you want to call him, who would notice i was missing if i died and come find me before rosie ate half my face because i wasn't able to feed her. this whole blog is very morbid but if you were in my messed up head, you'd think it's really funny. i'm laughing :)

sullivan out.

Cockroach

It's been awhile. Anyways, sorry but I've been really busy. Let's just do this quick. So I'm talking to my ex boyfriend tonight (it's his birthday) and yesterday was my birthday so we're both very Pisces. Somehow in conversation I said, Yesterday Jay said I was like a cockroach.

Him: Does he ever say nice things about you?

Me: That was totally a compliment.

Now, should I see a cockroach in my apartment? Not a good thing. But you have to respect those little mother f*ers. One of these days, the end of the world is going to come. And you know who is going to survive? The cockroaches. You can try to kill them. You can poison them. You can cut their heads off. They will stay alive. That's what they do.

If one message to you is my only purpose in life here it is: I've been to purgatory, I've looked Hell itself in the face. I'm still here. I'm still happy. :)

Of course there was a snowstorm on my birthday. The weather was crazy. Friends are cancelling plans. The whole time, I'm just thinking, bring it on. When/if (that's a big if) I'm not around anymore, please remember, you weather the storms and eventually life gives you a break. Right now, I love my job. I have the perfect dog. Awesome friends, the best boyfriend. I know none of these things will last forever and that it has taken a decade to rebuild a life I left. I feel like my head got cut off and I was wandering around without one for awhile. (btw what do cockroaches do when you cut their head off? do they grow a new head?)

It's good and it's sad at the same time but I'm starting to forget them. Even my family. I try to bring up their voices in my head sometimes and I can't. All the photo albums are in storage, I don't look at them. I'm the marketing person for my firm now and we need to spend a lot of money to get new sites photographed and I thought for a second oh my sister is trying to do a photography business maybe I should get her the job. Then I remembered, I can't, because she shuns me. She wouldn't pick up the phone call.

I wonder how they would feel to know they aren't punishing me anymore because I almost forget they exist. They are there, like characters in a book you wish you had never read but you had to read it to get to the place you're in today. (Kinda like every textbook I've read for my MBA :)

My family was my MBA in life. There's a few good ones left (Grandma!) but for the most part, I honestly don't need anyone who doesn't believe in me. I think I'm imperfect but at the same time thoughtful and kind and I give anything I have to anyone who needs it. Jay sees that in me. I think that's why he loves me. But he also loves the cockroach who can't be killed no matter what life throws. He tells me I'm the strongest person he's ever met. I don't feel strong. But maybe, just maybe, I am.

One of my most special old life friends always told me, The past is like a rearview mirror. You should check it sometimes to make sure you're in the right lane. But if you stare into it, you'll crash. 

He was right. I learned that the hard way. So take the easy way. Grieve when you need to, but leave the past in the past. Get your head cut off, but grow a new one. A better one. And then, never, ever take for granted your second chance. For me, this IS the afterworld. And it's lovely. :)

Sullivan out.

It's not what the world holds for you, it's what you bring to it.

I have ruined my boyfriend. We're addicted to the new Anne of Green Gables show. Last night we were up until 3:30 am. We never do that. We weren't partying, drinking. It was just every time an episode ended we looked at each other and were like "one more?".

Fucking Nexflix. The critics were right. This is not your typical Anne. (Y'all will only know what I'm talking about if you're from PEI.) It's dark. But I like it. Everyone has a past. It's kind of romantic if you put it in the right light. Which means, maybe we cry. Maybe we have flashbacks and nightmares. And maybe we run away sometimes. 

I think it makes him feel better to know all girls from PEI are slightly unique. I mean that in a good way. Doesn't affliction and hard work build character?

In the beginning I thought he was just trying to appease me. Then I saw that he loved this show as much as me. Of course he's heard all the stories. PEI is a special place to grow up. I feel grateful to have had a childhood with acres of trees to hide under while I read my books and wrote my stories. 

At the end of the day, I've always been an introvert. I pretended not to be for a long time. I finally feel like it doesn't matter anymore. 

My dad has always said you can count the number of real friends you have in life on one hand. That's more than enough for me. The introvert-fake extrovert never really cared to have so many pretend friends as desperately as I wanted to be liked.

There are a precious few people I would take a bullet for. Before I would do it for anyone. People got used to that. Call Margaux. She'll show up and take care of whatever you need. I'm slowly slowly learning to say no. To the people who wouldn't do that for me.

We need to give back, I believe in that 100%. Bring what you have to the world and my good friend the Universe always makes sure I have what I need. I can honestly say, I have never been happier in my life than I am in this moment. I feel like I'm surrounded in love. Not from everyone but that's an impossible target. I go to bed at night with a dog who makes me smile and a guy who has been my most loyal supporter and I have a best friend who is a kindred spirit.

Girls like me, don't always get a second chance. I did. I'm lucky and I'm gonna run with it. I miss home though. Take me home country roads... :)

Precious and Fragile Things

...need special handling.

Jay put this song on. He's like this is about you. "Angels with silver wings, shouldn't know suffering. I wish I could take it from you. Things things get damaged, things get broken."

He is right. All this being positive and looking forward not back is good advice. I work hard to practice that. One day at a time. My therapist (psychic actually but therapist sounds slightly less crazy) said that keeping everything on the inside and pretending things are fine to everyone is not the best way to approach life. And that my boyfriend is secretly dying on the inside by being the only one who really knows what's going on and how I'm doing. Taking all the responsibility for me.

I'm no angel and my wings wouldn't be gold or silver. Maybe I could beg, borrow and steal my way into bronze. :)

At the end of the day, he's probably the only one who actually really wants to know the truth. He sees both sides. The girl who can't let go of her past and the girl who is doing everything she can to build a future. The sensitive Pisces. The strong Sullivan.

Life can change so fast. From one day to another we never know the outcome. I am positive something has gotta give. Soon. For now though, Jay is right. I need special handling. I should probably be surrounded with bubble wrap. He did say I was precious though. :)

Me and Jay? We've got this.

Be kind to one another. 

Sullivan out.

Adam

Sneak peek. I'm finally writing my book. I decided to call all the chapters by peoples names. You can tell me if that's a good idea, leave a comment. Apparently though you have to have their consent or if not change their names. So Adam is reviewing this one. 

Adam

When I met my ex-husband, I was still in the cult. I thought, this is as good as it gets. I was 16. Even if our marriage was far from perfect, I still think that having grown up the way he did, he was a pretty good person.

Not a good husband.

I married him but I wasn’t in love. On the outside, we were perfect. On the inside I was dying. I’m a romantic. He had every excuse in the book to not come home. Hockey, golf, boy’s nights.

I was at a point in my life where I was questioning the Jehovah’s Witnesses belief system. But of course you can never talk about that, or you will be labelled an apostate and shunned by all family and friends. Which did happen to me. But before that…

I met Adam.

We were work friends for two years. He was someone I could finally talk to about the truth. In my other life, nothing you ever did was good enough. Taking care of all these people, volunteering all your time. Didn’t matter, you just had to work harder. Be better. You are never good enough. Especially if you’re a woman.

Adam loved me just the way I was and with all my imperfections. We could talk about anything for hours. It happened organically and we never officially crossed the cheating line. Except I did because I fell so in love with him that I finally found the strength to give up everything and everyone else for the chance that we’d end up living in a house on the beach and having strawberry blonde children.

Every time I walked into the office my heart would beat faster. Every time I got a message on my phone I hoped it was him. I had never felt that way about anyone. 

Stuart, my ex-boss/ex-boyfriend took me out for drinks one night while this all was happening and he said Mahhhhgaux (he’s British) married men never leave their wives.

Adam is smart. He is handsome. And kind. And as much as I tell myself he never really loved me I think he did. When it was over, I tried to kill myself. After everything I had lost, I couldn’t imagine a life without him in it. Without the beach house and those kids.

Whatever the outcome was, Adam was my BIG love and the catalyst that got me to wake up and get out of the cult. I will always love him for that. I owe him my second life.

About Last Night...

I've been off work for awhile. It's surprisingly difficult to find a job in Toronto. When my last contract was ending I decided not to stay. 100K a year is not worth being entirely miserable every single day.

I've found something new. Way less money but enough to pay the bills and the people seem genuinely kind.

Being off work meant I never had to do my hair, put on makeup or get dressed up. I just lived in yoga pants and went for dog walks and watched netflixs. But my boyfriend works opposite hours of me when I'm corporate so he wanted to take me out to dinner last night since we're never going to see each other again.

So I prettied up. I put on makeup and a nice dress and he was like, you look so beautiful. And I said, am I also a good person? He said, I think you're trying to be a good person. It's a half compliment. He's right though. When I left the JWs I was so lost. I had so much anxiety. Anger, sadness. I made bad decisions and I hurt people. Especially him.

The anxiety stays but the rest is gone. They all still show up all the time in my dreams even if I don't think about them all day. My mother and my sister the most. But I've moved on, even if my subconscious hasn't caught up yet.

So we had steak and lobster and celebrated and I really feel especially lucky to have such great people in my life. I wouldn't trade it in for a return to the cult any day of the week. :)

Believe in me

Because I don't believe in anything. And I want to be someone who believes. 

I've done an amazing job at being messed up. I'm more than just a little misunderstood. You wanna love me then you're in for a great ride. I was thinking this morning about how my ex-husband wanted his brother to be his best man at our wedding. Watchtower wouldn't let him have the weekend off though to come to his brother's wedding. His brother's wedding. Fuck them.

It makes me think that just if we hadn't been owned and controlled by them, maybe we would have been happy. Maybe I'd still have a family. Maybe I wouldn't have made so many bad choices.

My therapist last week was like, let's be honest Margaux. You're not depressed anymore. You're angry. Awesome. Only took me 9 years to move from grief to anger. I think I still have three steps to go.

There are different types of people out there. There are people who can get over something like this. And the ones who don't. I've tried to be the voice for everyone who has gone through this and spin it positive. Truth is, I'm a hypocrite. I'm not happy. But I'm happier than I would be back there with those crazies. Maybe this is just life. It's hard. Our friends are starting to die. My boyfriend is probably going to break up with me when he gets out of bed.

I still want to believe the heart of life is good. Help?

Rewrite the Stars

Yes, I have been on hiatus. It was an awful winter. I'm not complaining, just stating a fact.

But here I am. I've been feeling depressed again. It's recent. As in this week. I love how unpredictable it can be. You go through all this really hard shit and most people aren't  really there for you, yet you're fine. Then...once you finally start to feel a little bit better...WHAM! You're depressed again. I don't like talking about it. Not because I'm not a huge advocate for mental health, y'all know I am. I'm also me. I'm proud. To me it feels like a weakness to admit it.

I told my guy today I was struggling. He was like, I'm depressed too. I just looked at him. I'm pretty sure he was joking. I thought, I would be too if I had me for a girlfriend. He's like the guy who you wish all your other boyfriends had been but weren't and that's why you are still single.

"They" say depression is all in our head. Like they are superior. Like their heads are better, stronger places to be. My brother says that all the time but I think living in his head must be a fucking mess. :)

I think what works as healing for each of us is different but for me, I know I'm usually in that place because I feel like I'm not good enough. That idea was ingrained in me since I was able to talk. With the Witnesses you're never good enough. Never. No matter what.

Now, I feel like I should be able to snap my fingers and get over my past life. Today I had to look in the mirror and tell myself it's okay to not be okay.

They had 32 years of brainwashing on me. Somehow, I found the strength to walk away and not go back. That leaves me with about half my life to re-write the story and figure out who the hell I am, what I want to do and who I want to do it with.

The thing about Big Dreams, like starting over, is you have to do them for yourself. I couldn't have stayed for Travis, I couldn't have left for Adam. I had to do it for me. When I was ready. Alone.

We were at the beach with Max this afternoon and Jay looks at me and says you need to go. And I was like, I've been writing in my head. (He encourages this even though I'm always silently talking to myself.) Next he says, you'll call it rewrite the stars. How did he know that?

But we can. We can start over. We can rewrite. We can take the path we're on that makes us miserable and turn a corner. Pick up some strays and create your own new destiny.

It's never going to be perfect and from experience, not usually easy. Last night I cried and I was like what did I do this all for? I wrecked my life. Jay just said, "You wanted to be free. Now you are."

He's right. They gave more than enough time to rethink my decision to rewrite my life. I wouldn't change anything. And that's what I need to remind myself of on those odd sad Saturday mornings.

I am brave. I am free. This is who I was meant to be. This is me. 

Ps. Since we're talking about our journey being written in the stars, check out Kyla's new Zodiac Collection - buy a mala!!

Murmurations

I know what you're thinking and you're right. I never write anymore.

I'm sure all artists, whether you're a musician or a painter or a writer understand that voice in your head that won't leave you alone or go away until you do what it tells you to. Mine has been a lot of different personalities over the past eight years. Sometimes it's angry. Sometimes it just wants to be an advocate for people who have had their rights stolen. Sometimes, it has fallen in love with the worst possible choice in men ever. Not that most of them weren't decent guys, they were. Just the wrong choices. Then it just went silent. It woke up this morning, maybe because I felt so happy last night.

I could write a whole book on all the bad choices I've made in life. But I went home last weekend. My cousin was getting married and that was beautiful. I haven't had the easiest time with family. But he said something to me about how when someone is going through a hard time, family is always there for you. He wasn't talking about me, he wanted me to pass it on to my brother, but it resonated.

And family isn't just blood. I spent an evening with the girl I was best friends with when I was five years old. We both went though hell and got out of the JWs but we laughed about it all night. And then I came home. Here is as much home as home is. The only reason I had the opportunity to go to PEI was because I have such good friends in Toronto. People I can count on come what may. Y'all know I had a shit year. But it has been a year and it's always a new beginning come fall. :)

One of my best friends and I are going to a witches circle in a couple of weeks. It's so fun not to have rules anymore. I'll probably write a blog about that. She's blogging now too so maybe we can collaborate. It has been a long road. My other cousin told me once maybe I should wait to write a book until I know how it ends. This is how it ends. Happy. Not perfect. Surrounded by love.

I saw a reiki master awhile ago and I didn't tell her anything. I never do. Psychics, reiki, witches, if they are real they'll know about me without me giving them any information. She said my problem was that I had no idea how loved I was. Because honestly, that's what cults do to you. Make you feel guilty and wrong and unloved if you leave. She said she saw a flock of blackbirds flying in formation around me. I was a smartass and said that's called a murmuration. (Thank you to my lovely mentor GBW for teaching me that.) But how did she know I had blackbirds tattooed on my body and everywhere in my apartment and I never would be here today without my flock.

Y'all know who you are. Thank you for making me a better person, for putting up with me through this journey, for loving me in my perfectly imperfect state, for making me happy every day. For being the best family/"family" a girl could ask for.

Sullivan out.

Bend until you break

Take your makeup off, let your hair down, take a breath, when you're all alone, do you like you?

Do you? I don't like myself. To be honest, I don't think any of us should have to bend until we break. I've done that. I'm ashamed of it. Trying to belong has not been my forte since I left the cult. I made mistakes. I handled it better than some of our friends who are gone now. The ones who decided it was better to be go away than to keep trying. I don't blame them. I get it. I cannot tell you how many times I've been there. You'll have to wait for that book I'm writing that is never going to be finished to find out all about that. Good luck with that :)

I have all these pictures in my head of my past life. "I hate you, I love you" is the theme song of my life. I love them all but I hate them too. I hate them for not loving me enough to stick with me when I decided to leave. I love them because erasing them would mean half of my life is just gone. Like it never happened.

I always fall in love with the wrong men. And it's entirely possible the wrong girls as well.

I'm retiring the blog just for awhile. I was talking to Liz the other day. Liz: Have you googled you? You're everywhere.

Let's be honest, probably not as much as the Kardashians are (my god, did I actually use that word on my blog?)

I've used this blog as my personal diary, there's a reason those used to come with a lock and key. It's been a heartbreaking, joyful, terrifying, exciting wonderful journey here on the outside.

I met Margaret Atwood the other weekend. She was lovely. Then I started to feel bad because even though I look up to her as a wildly popular Canadian author, truth be told, I've never read any of her books. I have at least a hundred books in my apartment. Some of them hers. I'm still making the rounds and usually I have two or three on the go, so I can pick what I read depending on my mood.

So I cheated. Liz was watching the Handmaid's Tale on TV. I followed suit. I know the Jehovah's Witnesses are not as bad as that situation. They don't have machine guns....that I'm aware of :) At the end of the day, there's so many similarities though. Us, them, the Scientologists, the Mormons...the list goes on.

The secret lingo, the distrust, the spying on each other. Women go everywhere in twos, you can't be alone with a man who is not your husband. There are extreme penalties for breaking the rules and they all come with a scripture they can beat you over the head with. Some random scripture from the bible which was written in an age when men got away with anything they wanted. Multiple wives, concubines, wars, stoning people to death, killing anyone you wanted. The Bible is basically Game of Thrones on crack. But these were "God's people". Women and gays were synonymous with the lesser and subjected to all kinds of abuse.

How Margaret put all that together in 1985 is really impressive. With Trump and Trudeau running our world, I wonder how close life will become to that piece of fiction.

They tell the handmaiden that "everyone breaks". For so many people who have been raised in oppressive, non-accepting lives, that's true.

Okay, I'm going to sign off. I'll leave this up for the weekend and then we need to take a break. Have a couple of job interviews coming up and I don't need potential employers googling me. It's just a break, not a break up. For those of you out there who feel trapped, remember it might seem to be easier to stay somewhere where you feel secure. If you feel that way though, remember that security could be ripped away from you at any moment for the smallest infraction.

GET OUT.

We will be here on the other side to help.

Sullivan out.

Why is a Raven like a Writing Desk?

I've had that quote from Alice in Wonderland stuck in my head all week. Ever since Jay decided I needed a writing desk. Apparently the reason I'm stuck somewhere between writers block and hating the whole half book I've written so far is because I didn't have a proper desk.

I'm not a raven, I'm a blackbird, but close enough. As usual, Jay solved that problem.

You know what the challenge is with writing a book? On a blog, it's real time. However I feel today, that's what I can write about. Short and sweet. Get it out of my head and move on.

A book is complicated. If I go back to the beginning. I guess I could start somewhere in the middle, but nothing would make any sense.

I thought I was living a dual life and I honestly didn't know which side was the real me. Was I a saint or a sinner? I've been both. I've been loyal and I've betrayed. I can turn on a country song and feel an ache in my heart for home. I'm also a certified city girl. I love my hippie dresses and my Kate Spade purses equally.

The people I love now, they're just as imperfect as I am. I don't care anymore about religious sides in this silly war. I don't care if you're happily married or happily living in sin. Straight or gay or undecided. All I care is that you're happy. After a lifetime of judging people and trying to convert them, finding this truth makes me very, very happy.

That's why I still think I should tell my story. So people know there's an afterlife in this life. There's a happy way out, even if you have to go through hell to get there. I won't lie. It is HELL. But it's worth it. The JWs are wrong. Paradise is the here and now. It's messy and not all that easy sometimes, but it's better than spending a whole life believing in fairy tales. We make our happiness in this life.

So I promise to put this desk to good use. It actually makes me feel inspired. I'll dust off the book and see what happens.

And if you're going to go to bed wondering why the raven is like a writing desk? Google it. While you listen to some country music. There's room in us for all the different parts that make us up. That makes us something beautiful.

Sullivan out.

Phoenix Rising

In ancient Greek mythology, a phoenix is a bird, that's always reborn. It rises from the ashes of it's predecessor, thanks to a little help from the Sun God.

My girlfriend: This is OUR year! Phoenix rising!

Me: Sure.

In my head, I thought nope. I tell myself every single year, this year will be different. Better. I'll be stronger. Then usually, the Universe tries to kill me again. Sometimes I get sick. Sometimes I make myself sick. I am a self-fulfilling prophecy.

This last time though, my mentor came to see me in the hospital. I was hooked up to all these tubes and generally miserable and he was like, you're not depressed this time though. I'm really proud of you. I'll tell you a secret: I wasn't depressed because I just didn't care if I died or not this time. To be honest, not the time before that either. Or the time before that.

I know I've let you all down a bit. I keep getting messages asking why I don't write anymore. I guess I just gave up. What's the point of continuing in a fight you know you're never going to win? The Watchtower, like all big corporations, is fueled by money hungry, selfish men who are self-important enough to wield their power without remorse over their loyal, blind subjects. Who obey either out of guilt, fear or just plain brainwashing.

Like any organization, they're not all bad. There are some very, very good, yet terribly misled people amoung them. Some of us used to be those people. Then we woke up. Realized the truth and despite how hard we tried, we couldn't un-learn what we now know.

They are so good at the guilt and fear though, most of us can't say anything out loud against them. For fear of repercussion. Fear of losing our families. All the people we have ever loved.

The Universe reminded me last week that I'm not supposed to shut up. If you're not ready to talk, that's okay. I think I've helped a lot of you to quietly get out the smart way. Not the way I did - crash and burn. I promise you though, I'll always be here if you need to talk. I can tell your story if you want me to (anonymously), and some of you have already asked me to do that. I'm sorry I've been absent. I shouldn't be. Unlike most of you, I have absolutely nothing to lose anymore.

The phoenix rises from the ashes. Remember that. We can be re-born and become stronger, better and more beautiful than ever. We just have to go through the fire to get there. It's magic. If you believe in it, you will get there. :)

PS. A phoenix is so much cooler than a blackbird, isn't it??

Sullivan out.