Tag Archives: pain

ride upon your stallion


Have you ever heard a song that stole your heart, your mind and your very soul?  I think all of us have songs that fulfill something in our lives.  Some music may make us happy or remind us of another time or even give us hope for the future.  My experience with people during the last few years has shown me how passionate one can be about music and/or lyrics.  Styles and genre is debated all the time.  I’ve learned so much from so many about music.  I don’t ever want to stop learning.

Today I heard a song that, years ago, moved me to such an extreme it changed my life and my relationship with myself.  It may not have that effect on anyone else in the world but this is something I can own and I’m marvelling at how much it still gets to me.  It’s remarkable how much it did affect me back then and how changed I am now.  It just clicked!  I feel I’ve worked harder than I thought.

It’s a song about war and a soldier who is in battle, exhausted, weak and alone.

I first heard this Tom Cochrane song back in 1995.  My sister gave me a tape she made me for my birthday and it was the last song on the 120 minute tape so it took a while to get to it.  On this day, I plunked that tape in my trusty Walkman for my daily walk in 28C heat.  I loved to walk in the heat then.

It was an amazing time for me…just bought a house with my boyfriend who had balked about committment for 4 years, my son was the light of my life and could do no wrong, I had a job I loved, some actual girlfriends, I was in great shape for the first time in ages, my parents were healthy and I had a decent relationship with most of my siblings.  I was loved.

On this walk I was finally almost at the end of the tape when the song came on.  As I listened. I could feel the heat from the sun on my face and the sweat running down my body.  Halfway though the song my legs felt weak and I sank onto the grass nearby.  I played that song over and over, crying like my heart was broken in little pieces.

Well, it was.

Shut your eyes my darling there’s nothing you can say
the man in the moon won’t fall on you
he doesn’t live there anyway
you don’t have to be a soldier to fight in your private war
let the blood you might see rain down on me
you don’t have to fight no more

I saw pictures in my head.  I saw a very little girl with bright, curly hair and old eyes.  I saw a man on a white horse reaching down for the fragile little thing and pulling her up to sit in front of him, wrapping his cape and strong arms around her.  He dried her tears and hid her fears for a time, just to show her it can be done.  He knew that all she wanted was for someone else to take the pain from her but she couldn’t let that happen because she couldn’t wish it upon anyone.

there’s nothing you can say
there’s nothing you can send
there’s nothing that can change the facts
not all the king’s men

That little girl spoke to the strong man and told him and his horse about the fear that has filled her nights in a home where she should be safe from harm and of the fear of people she loved.

He could hear her screaming.

Have you ever cried until there were no tears left? I did that day as I listened to that song again and again.  I could see that little tiny girl grow up to go to school, filled with incredible fear and loathing.  I could see what she saw; a scarred and ugly girl in school where it was kind of hard to make friends because if you looked at her funny she would cry.  She was afraid of everything.

By fourth grade there was a new abuser to take the place of the one before.  He had taken it upon himself to torture that girl and did, until high school.  Unspeakable days and nights.  The bath was her friend; so cleansing and it was the only room with a lock on the door.

ride upon your stallion
and I’ll ride upon your mare
we’ll ride so far, ride so hard
far away from here
and when we look back upon it
it all will become so clear
and the gates will open up for us
and we wont have no more fear
there’s nothing u can say
there’s nothing u can send
there’s nothing that can change the facts
not all the kings men

I know there are a lot of little girls out there just like this one.  She’s special to me though because she lives inside me and won’t go away.  Its been rather awkward sometimes, because the more I push her away the more she’s in my face.

there’s nothing you can say
there’s nothing you can send
there’s nothing that can change the facts
not all the king’s men
look away look away

you might be tired and troubled but not today
when they come down upon you
I won’t let them get anything on you
and we’ll dream away all those fears and troubles may
look away

we both were motherless children
they sent us separate ways
the family you’d seen beat down on you
mine it was okay
I’ve come to take you back now may
save you from this fate
they won’t have any more chances
to treat you this way

I’ve been in therapy for a long time because of that kid. My love/hate for her has eaten up a lot of my life.  She has made me strong though and, no matter what, I needed her.  If only she had known about me during her time. If only she had known how strong she would be.

I was brave enough a few years ago to go to the police and press charges against my abuser because I could see him grooming another girl and this girl was one I loved too.  The Crown couldn’t take it further because of the time that had elapsed but I had done it; I went on video, told that little girl’s story and dragged up details I thought were gone.  I sat through and answered every embarrassing and difficult question perfect strangers had for me, describing things in achingly painful detail.  I managed to stop him anyway.  I think he lives in fear of me now.

I found out recently my abuser lives less than a block from where I live.

Stronger.

A survivor.  I’m no longer a victim.

there’s nothing you can say
there’s nothing you can send
there’s nothing that can change all that
not all the king’s men

Now I’m listening to “All the King’s Men” by Tom Cochrane for the first time in many years.  I have been on a journey for a very long time, which most of my readers know, and I can see that horse as I listen and look into my heart. There is someone reaching down for that little tiny girl but it’s not a man at all. Not anymore.

It’s the 51-year-old …

me.

u don’t have to be a soldier
to fight in your private war
let the blood u might see rain down on me
u don’t have to fight no more

Holding you tight.  And Our heart is whole again.

How’d That Happen


I know, I know.  It’s been a long time since I parked myself in front of my clanking, deformed laptop.  Well, really, I guess, it can’t technically be  called a laptop when there’s a monitor hooked up to it.  Oh and everything is green on the screen most of the time; a reminder that Spring is here I suppose.  I have a pretty good excuse.  my TV, internet and phone was cut off.  They still are but I went to the competitor and had just the internet installed.  Both Carly and I feel better and more connected.

So where did I leave off last post?  I finished the dating series and that was a lot of fun to write.  It helped me get over some of the horror terror ridiculousness of the experience.  As I left you back in November, I did indeed meet someone.  I’m still with him in fact.  He is a lovely man.  I have no idea how long it will last but I fully intend to enjoy being in a mostly healthy relationship for the first time in my life.  It’s early but hey, I have a very nice fella.

I’ve not been in a great space the last few months. Several factors; including, pre-menopause, menopause (all in one week! No, no just jokes.), my never-ending stress with finances, a full-fledged teenaged daughter who rolls her eyes at me so much she fell down once. Or twice. No, I didn’t push her.

I think this post will be about what the heck is happening around me.  I’ve been noticing behaviours among the human race lately that leaves me quite confused.

The Bus

I take the bus to work pretty regular now.  I work days at least half the month and parking costs more than a week’s worth of groceries.  I actually started liking the bus.  If the bus hits a car it isn’t my fault.  What I don’t like is the fact that I have developed some pretty painful, well, pains, in my left knee and I have tennis elbow in my left arm.  None of this pain comes from riding the bus though.  One of them maybe, in fact, a sex related injury.  I don’t know for sure though. I don’t have a cane ($) so I guess it isn’t obvious that the lurching, obese, sweating woman with the grey starting to peek out from her last home colouring job could really use a seat.  Although, the other day a young guy about 17 got up immediately to give me his seat.  Well that was nice but then I just felt old.

A real gem I meet on the way home.  She is really beautiful, about 20 with skin the colour of milk chocolate and big dark eyes.  For some reason this girl is desperate to get on the bus FIRST.  The first time she elbowed me out of her way so she could get on ahead of everyone, I simply figured she had to pee or she had a period accident.  Well the next day, she tried it again.  I stood my ground even though I almost went sprawling in the street.  I held my place and climbed on before her.  She was then at the back of the line and was trying like mad to sit between 2 large persons on a 3 seater.  She did it on one cheek, almost sending a seatmate into the aisle.  I think I would have to pass gas constantly if I was sitting with her and just not let her up.  I’m deaf to your cries of mercy.

Hey.

My fella is the gas king.  He says he farts when he’s happy.  I think he must be really happy.

I’m having fun imagining him on the bus.

Do you understand how fit one must be to ride the bus? I use muscles I can’t remember having while standing on the bus. After the first couple of weeks days I learned not to hold onto the pole with my left arm as it hurts like hell.  I had to plant my feet and anticipate the driver’s every move and be ready not to go flying into someone.  Which I did a couple of times.  Or my backpack did. I could feel sweat dripping down my forehead from the strain; my leg would cramp at night.  This is not pole dancing, people!

Me

I was in quite a funk for a few weeks which is weird as I was also happy because of the fella and all.  I don’t think I’ve had such conflicting feelings in my life.  I would talk to Dr. G. and we would discuss meds and what was going on but I just couldn’t shake it.  I was not so far gone that I couldn’t fake a better outlook than I felt. I noticed, though, the people I work with have been avoiding me.  I was never one to make a lot of friends but this went a bit beyond that.  One night I made a conscious decision to go into work the next day and smile.  Smile at everyone.  I did.  In no time at all I was interacting with my co-workers again.  I felt better and eventually I wasn’t faking it so much.  Someone invited me for coffee, I sit at table and people come and sit with me and include me in conversations.

I really felt that I was the key factor in coming back this time.  I have to focus every day to accomplish some success.  I am still under brutal stress along with my bi-polar symptoms so this is not always an easy thing to do.  I’m pretty tired.  I’m now looking for a second job, hoping it will relieve some of the stress.

I seem to be making the most stupid mistakes.  Corrie figures it is the menopause.  I feel so vague and my spelling and typing are atrocious.  I always took such pride in those things.  My memory has leaks in it.  It started as a little drip, drip, drip but now it kinda like pin holes in a water balloon.  Lots of pin holes.

Now I hafta pee.

My Car

We will have a funeral for my beloved Mustang soon.  There is no way I can afford to fix it or buy another car.  Losing my Role and Identity of “the-mom-who-you-call-to-take-you-and-all-your-friends-wherever-and-never-say-thank-you-to-her” will be an earth-shaking event for some.  I will miss the freedom and independence a car gives me.  I could shop when I needed to and do other errands without it taking all day.

Oh Wah.

My girl turned 15, is doing amazing at school.  I just cannot believe how well she is doing considering how hard its been for her the last couple of years with me.  Sometimes that “who’s the parent and who’s the child” happens.  She deserves so much more than I can give her now.  Financially and emotionally, I am definitely challenged.  I love her so much and want to give her more.  Not just stuff, but of me.  So fragmented.  I am lucky to have her.  Even when she brings a stray kitty home.  It lasted a week and even she was saying it had to go.  The cute little thing was driving me, well, nuts.

My boy turned 27 and is going to be a dad.  I’m going to be a gramma.  We are so thrilled about this new little being.  Turns out it’s a girl and should be born around my birthday in August.  Jenni felt her move for the first time this afternoon.  Marie will be one of her names.  I’m so honoured about that.  So much to look forward to!

So this is a good start on the road back to writing.  As always, feel free to leave a comment. I’ll be back soon.

Mambo Dating #5


I apologize for the delay in this post.  I was wrestling with old and new demons and have won once again.  Well, I’m getting there.  I need some new ammunition I think.

Well, the saga of my online dating experiences went on.  I think I may have run out of bad guys though so I’ll change it up a bit.  Some good and many bad men have become a part of my history, whether I wanted them to or not.  So like the Mambo #5 song I had various men make an appearance in my life, most very briefly.  I learned from all of them.

One of the things I like about having access to men’s profiles on my selected dating site is the game I’ve had to play to try to read into what they are really talking about.  This isn’t easy in most cases.  The majority of the men I talked about in my last 4 installments had profiles that made them seem like anybody’s dream guy or was so neutral I only found out how bad they were when it was almost too late.

That means, they lie.  Not all do but the many I encountered did.

I wish to give you a few examples and you try to guess the dreamboat I encountered.  All spelling and grammar is included.  Just click on the names and go back to the original post so you can recall their utter charm. I deleted specific mention of places that may identify them.

Example number one:

I am a well balanced man who lives life to the fullest. i enjoy dancing, travel, music, reading, live theatre and much more. my goal/aspirations is to find a woman who is stable who has dealt with past issues/relationships and ready to move forward toward a meaningful relationship. i take pride in myself as a healthy individual without being self absorbed. i am flexable, kind, opened minded, keep up with current affairs and trends. i have no time for negative energy

First Date
i would like to go to a fine outside cafe for lunch and chat to get to know each other. if things clicked, arrangements would be made to meet again to do anything that we’d both feel comfortable doing, spontaneity is cool.

Multiple choice:  a) Pretty Pornographer     b) Bobby or    c) Maxwell

#2:

…The women for me needs a sense of humor. I’m a easy going, jovial guy that likes the simple things in life. You know KISS. That’s me, not flashy just plain me. I like people, so it’s very easy for me to make friends. That’s what I’m looking for in a mate. I’m looking for that women that I can connect with.(Maybe need fish finder?)  I’ve never been married, so I don’t have any children. I own a house in — , that I like to keep clean. I like all kinds of sports, however I don’t play too many any more. Golf, Baseball, and working out once in awhile. I like the beach, especially on a real hot calm summer day. Mmmmmmm – frisbee too…

a)  Bobby  b) Creepy 400 lb Stuffie Talker or c) Dreamy Bald Guy

Okay, one more  #3:

I like being active, I really try to pay it forward all the time. I like down to earth people not those who try to impress the heck out of you with all of their accomplishments. I like a healthier type of lifestyle but I am far from obsessed. I do go to the gym lots but right now it is my stress relief and my social network of like minded people. I want to be a good friend first (chemistry) then all the other good stuff will follow i am sure. My answer to that would be ………..fill in your own blank. I like music,kisses,hugs,lots of smiles,dogs and cats, like slimmer people athletic types just people better sized for me. I really like people who can spell at least reasonably well and who have some command of grammar. Typos happen I get that.

First Date
You lead I’ll follow if it sounds good.

a) Bobby  b) Dreamy Bald Guy  or c) Maxwell

Answers:

1)Bobby   2) Creepy 400 lb Stuffie Talker 3) Dreamy Bald Guy

Those are just a few I had to figure out.

I will end this series with this lovely quote from another dreamy bald guy.  He very kindly gave me his permission to use it.

We have this idea that love is supposed to last forever…… But love isn’t like that… It’s a free-flowing energy that comes and goes when it pleases. Sometimes it stays for life; other times it stays for a second, a day, a month, or a year. So don’t fear love when it comes simply because it makes you vulnerable; But don’t be surprised when it leaves either, Just be glad you had the opportunity to experience it.

We’ve all had that feeling, and its come and gone again, that’s why most of us are here, to try and capture that feeling again, and it is wonderful isn’t it? So if the fates are with us, we will find that person and experience it again, and perhaps, just perhaps it will last forever this time…….here’s hoping.

Oh yeah, I met someone.  He’s pretty dreamy. 🙂

Peace…


I know what I’ve written may read rather all over the place.  I’ve edited as much as I’m able to.  I’m satisfied though, that my message is clear.  I ask not to be judged and appreciate your support.

When will this ridiculous disorder decide what it’s going to do already?  I’ve had enough of new or exaggerated symptoms.  I want a way out of this prison that is holding my brain hostage and my life in limbo.

I’ve experienced the deep, dark blue of depression where it was all I could do to hold on to my life.  I’ve even lived through the highs: racing thoughts, reckless abandon with money, big ideas.    What I was not prepared for was the all encompassing consumption of this disease, even while on meds.

Consumed.

I’ve been consumed with various things for weeks, none being productive nor good for me.  I mentioned my racing mind.  That’s a huge symptom and the springboard for the others.

The worst times are the nights.

I stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning.  Every day.  Not easy getting up at 7:30.  Not good either, considering I’ve been going to a wonderful program and working at my contract part-time job.  The job was only for 2 weeks and I did lousy at it.  I’ll be lucky if they call me again.  Both the program and the job ended this past weekend.

What do I do during the night?  Why, I’m right here.  For weeks not writing in my blog  as some of you may have noticed.  Not researching jobs I should be applying for.

No.

I’m on dating sites.  Talking to strangers who really aren’t pretending to want to know me except in the carnal sense of the word.  I could think of nothing else but to see whether anyone had messaged me.  I even checked my phone while at work, taking more breaks than allowed.  Even as I write this I’m peeking at the other page to see who’s on.

Men messaged me, saying all the nice things I wanted to hear.  Good thing there was SOME judgement left in me where I made sure to talk to them for quite a while before meeting them.  I even had a safe plan if I was to meet anyone.   One guy went ballistic when I gave my view on porn after he asked.  A real bully and potential emotional terrorist.  Didn’t meet that one, but it was close.

Another man seemed to be perfect.  He was very spiritual and funny.  So amazing looking in his pictures; what could he possibly want with me?  He didn’t talk about sex at all until about a week of talking online and then it was for one evening and, charmingly,  he was filled with regret the next day.  I made the mistake of letting him read my blog.  So here is this stranger reading about the most vulnerable times in my life.  I was so anxious I did the wrong thing.  He assured me otherwise.  He felt closer to me than ever.

Then, a few days later, he stopped answering my messages and emails.  I only sent 3 as I did not want to look more pathetic.  I was devastated.  We were just about to meet in person. He played me like some kind of stringed instrument with a background of primal african drums. When I got to my Sara Riel program the next day I couldn’t focus and I cried throughout the class.  The other participants and the facilitator were so wonderful.  I stayed until the end of the day and wallowed for a couple more but went on with my life, as it was. One morning, I woke up and it was done.  But now the other symptoms were becoming more apparent.  In hindsight that is.

I only met one fellow in person and ended up hurting and confusing him with my scattered thinking and poor judgement.  I felt nothing for the guy except that he was funny, made me laugh and feel good.  As a matter of fact I felt shocked that this was the first time in my history with men that I didn’t imagine I was in love with someone I was with or even turned on with HIM.  I was clingy and paranoid.  I accused him of things that were ridiculous.

Sex had consumed me and my every thought and movement. There seemed to be no way to stop.  It was destroying my life.

This had never, ever happened to me before. “Hypersexuality” it’s called. Thank god it’s ending now. Unfortunately, that usually means a crash. I hope I’m ready for it.

I was also drinking.  Every day.  Weeks of it.  Never giving a thought as to how this fucks up my meds.  It wasn’t until tonight I realized there is something definitely wrong with me and did some research.  I found out that not only does alcohol retard the effects of the medication I take, it also can cause death, and not rarely either.  My meds affect my central nervous system and, mixed with alcohol, are lethal.

For those of you who are living with bi-polar disorder or who love someone who is, please visit this website here.  Read it, read it, read it.

Now for my plan:

  • It’s cold outside but I am going to walk at least a block every day and slowly add to it.
  • Somehow I have to limit my time on the Web.  That’s so hard to do since my life is so isolated.
  • I will read more and even watch TV.
  • I have to stay off that dating website as much as possible.
  • I will eat better and buy groceries.
  • I will NOT drink alcohol at all.

Thank you all for being here with me and making it all the way through this post.

I wasn’t sure I was going to.

Peace

Blue


Okay so a lot of you won’t relate to this.  Maybe some of you will and won’t admit it and think I just might be a whiny baby cry baby.  I don’t know what to do.  At this point I feel pretty desperate.

Why can’t I stop thinking about a man who was so callous towards me.  One who acted like I was the most amazing thing in his life then turning around and treating me so disrespectfully.  What is it about me?  He’s not the first and I hope he will be the last.

To not hear a word from him is a shock, even to Dr. G. who has a real handle on personalities (he is a PSYCHIATRIST).  I don’t want to think the last year was a total farce, I just don’t believe it.  The realization of that possibility, though, makes me feel like a total fool and I am left cold.

I don’t want to write this.  I want to show everyone how much I learned without being cynical and self-serving.  I want to appear strong and brave and cool. I don’t want to sound bitter and weak and needy. How does one do that?  I have had years of counselling, 23 to be exact, so I know a thing or two or 22,349 things.  This just isn’t going well tonight.

I know I said I learned a lot from this relationship and I did.  I learned about loving someone and being able to consciously and unconsciously overlook their faults and mine too.  I didn’t even notice anything like faults until they were shoved into my face.  I loved being able to tell him constantly how smart, sexy and capable I thought he was and being surprised to know these were things he had never, ever heard before.  I believe he may have actually started to see these things in himself. I was proud I could be there with all my support and love that was all for him.  I showed him how much I appreciated him and all the things that were him, baggage and all.  I embraced his, and what he thought were, his shortcomings; i.e. his weight, his lack of money etc.  Those were things that did not make the whole man but only part of him.

For some reason, these good feelings I had made him push me away.  I finally had to realize there was only so much I will take.

I learned joy, true joy, whether we were together or not.  Because he lived an hour away I was able to learn to do a lot of things on my own.  I had his encouragement, perspective and advice  to help me along.

I learned how strong I am and not just in making day-to-day decisions.  But in knowing what is right for me and my family.  I waited  “four seasons” just like my counsellor advised me before making any solid commitments, like living together.  I had to look at factors I was never faced with before and question whether I thought it would be truly wise to uproot myself, my daughter and my cat to a home so different from ours.  The opposite of ours.  This was not about me.  It was never about me.

I made the right decision.

There is pain psychologically.  I am having so much trouble focusing on the day-to-day things. Work is next to impossible.  I am not at my best, not even close.  Every amazing idea I think I have for a new program or something is met with polite voices and a change of subject.  God, I hate when that happens.  It usually means the end and I love my job very much.  So, for now, I shut up and just be what is expected of me.

Physically I have the usual aches and pains with more pronounced pain in my back and more headaches.  This is all because of my back and my being unable to do simple exercises such as walking.  10 minutes is it.  I have gained more weight than ever before; Dr. G. is talking about changing one of my meds as it seems to be the culprit for my increased appetite and consequent ballooning.

That should be interesting.  He is holding off, though, because of the increased stress in my life.  Thank goodness for that because if I was not on the dose of Lithium I am on currently, I don’t know how I would be getting through this at all. I see Dr. G. every two weeks so he will assess me intermittently.  I’ve made all my appointments with various other physicians as per his orders.

Of course I think, how could I meet a new man looking and feeling like this?  Who cares?  Not me. I can’t.  I won’t anyway.  I don’t want to at all.  I’m not even close to being ready.  I have no desire to be vulnerable like that again.  There is no way I can even imagine talking to a guy, let alone having someone see me naked.  So the increased weight is a good incentive not to meet anyone.  Not that anyone is knocking on my door. I don’t want anyone to, I need to gather my wits about me.  This is unusual for me, for those that know me.  I have always had a man in my life.  Always.  So it really is time for a break.

This has been a triple whammy really; that man I lived with, that man I was friends with for many years and took a tumble with, and Dennis.  Funny how he is the only one with a name.  That should change in time.

So now’s the time for a good, long break and enjoy being me.  I am eager to make new friends, get to know old ones and try some new things.  I enjoy the lack of someone else’s drama in my life.  I am spending more time with my kids now and it’s so much fun.  With me not working my second job its amazing how much time there is in a day when I’m not waiting for someone to come on-line or call me.

So, I wrote it all down, I feel better, now how the heck do you feel?

4 Days of “The End”


I’m going to try really hard not to whine or be too sappy.  Some sappiness is necessary because some of this post is about my Mum.  You know what that means.  Hankies at the ready…not for you but me for sure. Whining is also gonna happen.  I promise to keep it to a minimum.

Everything started on Thursday night with a ridiculous fight with my fella.  We had just spent the week before together and half way through that week, I knew it wasn’t going to work any more.  And that realization hurt more than anything else that happened after.  Less than a week after I went home we had the fight that was so long in coming.  I ended up hanging up on our video call with him still spewing garbage at me.  Wonder how long it took him to realize I wasn’t there?

I’m not going to say much about our relationship only because I hardly mentioned him in my other posts.  He is a sweet man with many faults, as do I but ours were not the kind of faults that work well together.  We were very different in many ways.  We didn’t argue much except for the last few weeks and that wasnt even arguing, it was more me shutting my mouth and taking it. I’m pretty easy-going about lots of things but only up to a point.

I always need time to think through things that are happening and whether these problems are because of me and/or my bipolar disorder.  I’ve learned to examine things (like this relationship) and try to discover the things that are real, exaggerated or nonexistent.  I do this on a daily basis with just about everything.  No wonder I’m so tired.  I thought about this a lot with Dennis and I.  And hey, I gained 30 pounds since I met him.  Eh?

Friday night was more of the same garbage flinging and after only a few harsh sentences were hurled at my head I told him it was over.  He was quite agreeable.  I wanted off that call before I heard more about what’s wrong with me.  I didn’t want to tell him off.  There was just no point.  So I hung up.  Just leave it at that.  Done after a year.

I learned so much good stuff from all the good stuff and the bad stuff too.  It made me realize what I wanted more than what I didn’t want.

For good measure I deleted him and his family from my Facebook so I wouldn’t have to deal with more pain.  It is still so raw for me.  I loved him and his family so much and tried to help out and be a friend to everyone as much as I could.  This relationship was not a mistake but just a really positive learning experience.

My Facebook friends have been drastically depleted since I didn’t have a whole lot to begin with.

I only started this post with him because it was the first day of the series of endings.

Saturday, my laptop finally died.  I had a monitor for it because the built-in one bit the dust a while ago when Carly was using it.  Surprise, surprise.  It was working really well since April with the monitor but now it is no more.  My Carly is heartbroken; not for me but because she has to share hers now, which was mine in the first place.  I mourned the articles and letters, the pictures and the files I carefully made to suit my idiosyncrasies

Oh then I received a phone call from my second job, where I have been on hiatus which was supposed to last only the month of August.  I was excited to hear from them because I was eager to get back to work and pay rent.  Lo and behold and alas and of course; they aren’t sure when I will be called back to work.  It could be as long as six months.

Great. Now what do I do?  Never mind the income I so desperately need but working the two jobs would essentially speed up the healing process in getting over my, er, laptop’s demise.

Crap.

I say that a lot.

Sunday my daughter came home after a week with her dad. I was filled with joy and merriment.  So was she, really.  No end of that in sight here.

Monday, (hanky UP) I sold my mother’s land she left me in her will.

I’ve talked about that land a lot on these pages.  Mom told me it was for a woman in the family who would need it just in case she needed her “own” money, either by renting it out, living on it or selling it.  There is not really much land there (2.44 acres) but it was always special to me.  It took a year to sell.  I had just gone there with Dennis a couple of weeks ago for a day trip and emailed the real estate agent with my new contact information this past Saturday. Today she emailed me back with an offer to purchase.

My Mum, she always knew when I’m needing something badly.  Then and now.  She’s been gone since 2007 and she’s still everywhere.  My life keeps changing and never seems to settle down and she pops up on a regular basis.  There won’t be a lot of money from this at all but it should be enough to get a lawyer so I can get my child support and my share of the house from that man.  Thank you Mom.

My Mom had to know my life was not going to be easy because she went to a lawyer and picked my name to be the one to get this incredible gift of land. I know she was hoping I would be able to keep it, live on it, die on it and leave it for my own kids.  So was I.  This will never be possible now.

I wanted to live there but I had no idea how that would even work. The land has no well, no hydro, no septic field.  There are no buildings on it at all, just wildflowers and the odd canola bloom here and there.

So a lucky couple found a great deal.  They will never know the history of the land.  Did you know my Gramma was a bookie?  In the 1930’s she was a very young widow with three children and there was no work for a woman anywhere at that time.  Except for Mr. Sleezri (now I’m totally making up that name but not the story).  He had great ideas and his finger in many pies.  My gramma was very pretty when there weren’t kids attached to her so he put her to work collecting bets.  She ended up with her own bookie business not long after and continued it until her death at age 92.

I remember my gramma had 2 fridges in the kitchen.  The regular sized one had no food in it.  It just had slips of paper neatly set out in rows on the shelves.  Sometimes there was money in it too.  The other was a bar fridge worked into a lower cupboard in the kitchen and held the milk, eggs and such.  Her suite was filled with things.  Brush and comb sets to TVs, furniture.  Lots of gifty items too.   Yeah, so if you couldn’t pay a bet to my gramma, you were allowed to barter.  I don’t think she broke any legs but she had a lot of stuff.

That’s how she got the land; from some poor gambling addict farmer who divided up his farm land and gave her a piece.  He paid rent to her too, for decades until my gramma died and my Mum got it.

If you could have seen the other pics to choose from. Wow. This looks more like me.

I come from a long line of survivors and strong women who were ahead of their time.  They would do anything to care for their families. Loved ones meant just that – loved ones.  I realize these circumstances are to make me stronger.  Judging from the past experiences in my life, I sincerely believe I should be Super Woman by now.

So these important losses are really the start of new beginnings.  Again I start over because, again, I can.

Except for the man part.  Blech.

Rip and Buzz


Many young woman face a certain phase in their lives.  Some do nothing and just let nature take its course, maybe take the easy way, while others will stare at it, head on, with vision, bravery and, yes, a little naivtey.  How best to meet this problem?  It’s one that always comes back so a good plan is important, and it will, hopefully, be used throughout womanhood.  My Daisy* was faced with an unspeakable suffering yesterday.  I let it happen.  I couldn’t stop it.  My poor, brave, agonized Daisy.

No this is not about her period.  She would kill me.  She will anyway because I said “period”.

This is what I heard almost as soon as I got home from the hospital:  “MOM!!!!  I’m going to CAMP for a WEEK and how the HECK am I supposed to SHAVE my LEGS?  Can we buy the wax strips, please?”  This conversation had been going on for a while now with me telling her she had to grow the hair on her legs first and she was horrified she would have to wait a week or two.

I explained to her how painful it would be.  I don’t think she believed me.  So off we went to the store and bought wax strips that wouldn’t need to be microwaved.  Not that it matters.  Belatedly, I checked her legs.  Two days of stubble.  Oh boy.  She was sheepish and pointed out the strips were made for short hair.  Of course, what did I know; I’ve only waxed, sugared, tweezed, shaved, buffed and epilated for years.

“Sure sweetie, worth a try.”

She insisted on no help from me at all.  So, armed with her box of strips she locked herself in the bathroom.  I waited.  I waited some more.  I thought maybe she changed her mind.

“Mom?”  “Yes, sweetheart?”  “So how bad will it hurt?  I’m afraid.”  I told her she could do it and it would hurt like hell but her leg will be bald.  “okay” she said in a teeny tiny voice.

Then, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I hear my poor baby gasping for air.  I was at the door in an instant but she would not let me in.  Seconds later I hear AAAAAAAAIIIIIIII.  Wow.  She did it again.  And then she did it again.  I stood outside that door listening to my little girl scream and realized how, more and more, she is becoming a very strong woman.  She faced this problem along with its pain and stuck with it to the end.  I was so proud of her at that moment.  Listening to her cries, I beamed with pride.

Crazy momma.

“Mom, not all the hair came off! And I still have to do my armpits.  What do I do now?”  I told her I had an epilator.  “What does it do?”  I didn’t have the heart to tell her but I did.  She actually went white.

“Get it for me please Mom”  I did, set it up, gave it to her.  This time I stood outside her bedroom door listening to buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzOWowowowOWOWZZZZZZOWOWowowzzzowOWowowow

Yep, she did the pits too.  And no bad words at all.  She walks like Frankenstein now.  But she is gonna look great at camp once the rashes go away.

*Name changed to protect me from you-know-who.