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.

The Unwanted Visitor

I can't make any promises about not writing about this again a few times before June. It's my 10 year out of the cult into the real world anniversary coming up. I feel really good these days. My friends say I look great again, not the way I used to, all skinny and sick. I can honestly say I'm happy.

I feel like Margaux 2.0, just ten years older and a bit more weathered. That doesn't mean however that I won't have relapses. I've been through a lot of change this past year. I feel it's helping me grow, but people worry about me when I feel down. My therapist says that once you've been through a major depression it's prone to re-visit.

Sometimes something triggers it, sometimes it's just being tired, sad or frustrated. Sometimes it's because I really miss someone I've lost. I've learned coping skills on how to move ahead when that happens, but that doesn't mean it will stop it from happening once in awhile.

The reason I speak out about it is I feel I'm helping people by breaking the stigma. We could tuck it away in the closet and pretend we're fine all the time but I think that's what makes people crazy. Now my go-to is: Let it out. Cry. Spend a whole day wallowing if you need to. Take a nap. Watch something fun on Netflix. Then wipe your eyes and get up tomorrow knowing it's a new day with no mistakes in it yet. Depression Lies. Tell your unwanted visitor his time is up and he has to leave now.

I've always been a tiny (huge) bit dramatic and that's what us writers and artists are, aren't we? I don't think I'm that dramatic anymore because I feel safe and secure, but I still have those days when I need to focus on self-care. We were going out the other night to watch the Raptors play. On the way there Jay was like "Who's my crazy girl? You are. But you're MY crazy girl". He's right. I can be crazy. I'll go out for a walk and come home with a puppy or a kitten or someone who needs to crash on our couch indefinitely.

At the end of the day, it's refreshing to have someone who loves me not because were in the same cult or they're trying to control what I do, but because they think I deserve to be loved. Who sits with me when I cry sometimes. Who holds my hand through anything and everything and always says "we got this". Who helps me lock the door when my unwanted visitor comes calling. Who shows me I'm so much more than just someone who was raised in a cult, abandoned by most family and friends, who deals with depression every now and then.

This is real love and I know it doesn't happen every day. Whatever you're going through, there are people are out there who will love you regardless. Find your people. You have the power, you just have to believe in that for yourself. The sun is shining again and ps. get a dog :)

If you can't love yourself how the hell are you ever going to love someone else? Can I get an Amen? *RuPaul

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.

With or Without You

I can't live with or without you. - U2

Last night was Nuit Blanche, so like everyone in Toronto, we were wandering around at 4:30 am with my dog looking at bad art. Nuit Blanche used to be cool, before the hipsters ruined it. They are the worst. That's why I stay east end instead of west end now. West end is full of damn hipsters.

So we're talking about love last night. I've been in love enough times. I think my dance card is full. And this is probably the last time for me. But you never know. I've dated a lot. Like a lot a lot. And I can truthfully say I've only been in love five times. That's a pretty good number in 20 years, I've been lucky. I don't know really how love works but I rate that number on how many times I've cried over someone for longer than a day or two.

There was the first love of course. They say the first cut is the deepest and that one hurt. But not the worst. After him came my husband. That one hurt more. Then came the guy I left my husband for. That one was very, very bad. Probably more because of all the things I gave up for him than being about him. After that, came that guy who used to be my boss.

I was talking to my mentor the other day about the current guy and he said he thought it was a good thing. I said, well you thought the last one was a good thing. He just said, I knew you loved him. And I really did. Said mentor and his wife have been together forever. Raised a family, pursued careers, traveled. They still love each other after all that time. Although I envy that, apparently the Universe didn't think that was my path in life.

Back to last night. We're talking about love. And he says that it really doesn't mean that much when someone says "I love you". (Effing psych degree over there.) But I thought about it, and he's right. All the men I've loved have been completely different. I really did love each of them. I said those three words. They were there at different times in my life, when I needed them to guide me somewhere. I don't regret any of it. At the time, I couldn't live without them. He said what would mean more would be if someone said: I can't imagine my life without you.

I can't imagine my life without him. At least not at the moment. Sidepoint: I couldn't love anyone who didn't love my dog as much as he does. 

It's scary to love again after you've done it and been disappointed with the outcome. I've realized there is no "the one" for some of us. There's the one who is supposed to be there in the here and now. The difference with him from all the others is that he loves me just the way I am. I don't have to be anyone I'm not, look a certain way. He's been there for me through countless terrible situations. He just holds my hand and says "we've got this" every time. And somehow it always works out.

The most significant, important love of our life is figuring out how to love ourselves. If you find someone who loves the you that you love, well that's just icing on the cake. Nothing makes me happier than coming home and seeing those stupid boots he wears year round in my entrance way. I can't imagine my life without you JJ. :)

Sullivan out.

Mother's Day 2017

I’ve always kept a diary. Well, until I started writing a blog. As long as I can write, get it out, I’m good.

I love my mother, I always will. We are so different though and we never really connected. I’m too much like my dad. I don’t think like her, I don’t look like her. I’m all Sullivan. She makes me miserable and I don’t understand fully what I did to deserve all that hate. When I left the cult, I put a nail in the coffin of that relationship.

Fortunately for me, I had a back up. When my dad remarried, I wasn’t happy about it. I was a kid who wanted her parents together. I went through my old journals and at somewhere around 8 years old I wrote “ Today Dad is marrying Helena. I guess I just want him to be happy.” Pretty deep for an 8 year old, I think. :)

And she has made him happy. For decades now. She is the loving and supportive wife my dad never had with my mom. She makes me happy too. Helena, who is now Mom to me, fits into the family like she was always there.  And she has been there way longer than she wasn’t.

She gave all of us a gift in Matthew, the only sibling I have who still talks to me. He’s become a wonderful man and I love him dearly.

Mom and I, we’re both aspiring writers. I’m more serious when I write, she puts fun into everything. She loves to make people laugh and she takes the darkest situations and turns them into something we can cry laughing about. That’s a talent I wish I had!

She’s my support, my friend and the mother I never had. She can anticipate what I want before I want it and she ALWAYS puts everyone else before herself. She’s a dedicated, caring daughter, a loving and loyal wife, a mother who fiercely protects her children as much as is possible. She’s the most fun grandma I know. (Except you Grandma - I think you're the most awesome Grandma to me.) Helena's not my grandma she's my mom so a little disclaimer there!

She's definitely beautiful inside and out. A blessing to our family in every way. And her spaghetti isn’t bad either : )

I love you mom. I’m grateful that I can talk to you about books, about writing, about boys, about work,  about pretty much everything I need to talk about. I’m grateful that you put up with me. I’m grateful you drag me to church once or twice a year.  I’m grateful that you never give up on any of us. I’m grateful for the joy you bring to our lives. I’m grateful for you. Happy Mother's Day. 

Sullivan out.

Say Something

"Say something. I'm giving up on you."

Well here we are. This past year, after almost dying, leaving my job, dating and breaking up with someone I have loved for years, being unemployed for months, I'm once again a functioning member of society. Not someone who hangs out in yoga pants all day alone with her dog doing little projects for whoever needs to hire someone who can write for them or do their taxes. 

I applied for A LOT of jobs. I interviewed for a lot of jobs. With the reasons I had that told me I needed a change, I was picky. It got crazy by the end. I had 13 interviews in two weeks. They were all pretty aggressive in wanting me to make a decision. I had to decide what the hell I was doing with my life. I'm 40 now after all. Halfway through my life, if I'm lucky. 

I can't say enough good things about my almost 7 years at KPMG. I worked with great people. I had mentors who helped me grow. I made a couple of life long friends. When I left, I said from the beginning I wanted to work non-profit. It seems like you can take the girl out of the JWs but you can't take the JW out of the girl. I'd rather help people than make lots of money. I am doing my MBA so hopefully I'll have some great options in the future. 

Still, it was hard to decide. Some companies seemed so much more exciting. My best friend was here when I was in the middle of all that craziness (cause he's always here when I need him) and he was like, "Margaux, you know what you want to do. Do it." I pretty much played Russian roulette with my professional life and I think I dodged a couple of bullets. 

It was the right decision. I'm 9 days straight in and I'm sure of that. I'm exhausted, but sure. There is one drawback to my almost perfect new job. The company next to us - there's a JW who works there. We used to be friends. I'm non-profit now. All the offices on my floor share a bathroom. So I run into her. She shuns me. I gotta say, I don't know if I'll ever get used to it. 

They make a big show out of it. Look straight at you - look appalled - look away with their head down. Walk faster past you. As happy and grounded as I feel, it still shakes me. It's still makes me feel bad about myself. It still makes it harder for me to walk tall and be proud of my decisions in life. Even though I am. 

What do they think is going to happen if they look at me? That I'll suck them over to Satan's side by making eye contact? Maybe I'll just have to go to the bathroom at Starbucks across the street now. Or find a way to deal with it. 

We were friends for years, but I can't for the life of me remember her name. It got me thinking. It will be 8 years in June since I was disfellowshipped. I'm starting to forget a lot of things. I'm forgetting my JW family. I see my mom and sister in pictures in my head. Not in video. It's snapshots, not a movie. Worst part? They will never say something. They just disappear, shun. It's okay, Jehovah told them to do it.

I'm at about 20% of my life that's post Jehovah Witness. It's going to take me longer to fix myself. But my therapist thinks I've come a long way. :)

I still wish they could say something though. Like, maybe...goodbye? Something that would give me the closure I still crave. Now that I work in an organization that deals with palliative care, I understand how important the "goodbye" is to the family members and close friends. 

It's important to me. I didn't get that opportunity. My mother has said a lot. Mostly about how I'm a sinner, how I'm going to die at Armageddon and how much I've hurt her by deciding to live a life different from the one she choose for all of us. But it's never the goodbye, the closure. 

So, I officially give up. She called Grandma when I was there at Christmas. I answered the phone. She knew I almost died and she couldn't even say "Are you okay now?". My mother. Couldn't ask if I was okay. She couldn't hang up on me fast enough. To be fair, Jehovah probably wouldn't like that. Jehovah doesn't seem like a very loving or accepting God to me. I'll go with no God and put my faith in the Universe to work things out. The Universe makes me nervous, but she always comes through in the end. 

This is me, phase 2. It's not the end. I've been gifted with a new beginning. I promise to make the most of it. 

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.

This is 40!

So today is my last day of being in my 30s. I took the blog out of retirement. Do I lie about my age on my online dating profiles? Sure. Because I can. I got some good genes. :)

I'm actually totally okay with turning 40 tomorrow. You couldn't pay me to go back to being 30. I hated my 30s. I was stuck in a cult, then one day I realized if I didn't leave, make a decision, I'd live and die like that. Then I lost everything. When I was in there, I thought I'd be someone. Eventually I was in their eyes. Didn't make me happy.

You know what makes me happy? I had a little birthday party last night. It was a mixed bag. Married people and divorced. People who are living "in sin" with their partners. Gay and straight. Ex-boyfriends. Dogs. I couldn't have been happier. LOVE IS LOVE. I'm not against religion when it enhances peoples lives and makes them happy. What I am against is intolerance, racism, judging people based on how much money they make or their sexual orientation. Don't even get me started on Trump. Also, the JW stigma against higher education. Or anyone who's not one of them, because of course, we'll all die at the always right around the corner, never coming Armageddon.

My mentor was there and he told me he was proud of me for choosing such good people to rebuild my life with.

My life is half over but I think I'm just finally starting to see what it means to be living. As one of my awesome, terrible ex-boyfriends always used to say: "Onwards and Upwards." This was my path, and these are my people. I couldn't be more grateful.

*I can't change. Even if I tried. Even if I wanted to."

Sullivan out.

Lost & Found

Christmas is a hard time of year for a lot of people. I would know. I tried to kill myself one Christmas. The next one, I took all my sharp knives to my girlfriends place and asked her to keep them for me until I felt better. Then I came home and lied on the floor and didn't get up for a couple of days. It was self preservation. 

If you are struggling, just know that it gets better. This is a picture of all the pictures on my fridge. It's happy. But it didn't happen overnight. It took a long, long time to build that collage. I was so lost for so long. These people saved me. My life still isn't perfect. I'm still figuring things out. However, there is so much love out there. We all deserve it. So if you're happy and healthy, do what you can this Christmas to help others. Volunteer at a shelter. Give a tooney to that homeless man on the corner that you usually ignore. Pay it forward. 

And if you're on the other side, please call 1-800-273-8255. Talk to someone. Make it back. I can't promise you anything, but I'm sure that if you do, you'll find your people. And what's lost will be found. It might be better than anything you lost in the first place. :)

Sullivan out.