I know it was the right one – it is possible all my sorrow comes in the fact that the choice needed to be made at all.
2010/07/24
Emotional Control
I can not seem to understand something:
I have completed my Montessori Teaching course and am now moving into the student teacher phase of the credential. I have the required ECE units to now teach in California and I have the required Visa to allow me to get a job.
I have made some really good friends. I have a very sweet loving boyfriend. I am lucky in so many ways.
Yet here I sit alone – trying so hard to do what I am told I am supposed to do. Be OK with people I am dating doing there own thing, going off, making plans that just do not involve me. I KNOW its healthy but I wonder at what point do the things that are important to me become normal and OK?
Will my needs and desires in a relationship ever fall with in what is normal? Will I ever get to the point where I feel confident in who I am enough to be OK with what I want?
I am trying to express how I am feeling in a productive way but what I really am feeling is loneliness. Maybe its that I feel a imbalance in desire. A strong desire to always be near some one who has a more healthy look on how often we should interact. One I do understand but at the same time understanding and feeling the right emotion for it seem to be two different things.
it could all just be circumstances, the anticlimactic finish – Working so hard to complete something and then standing there proud alone. I am really a big attention person. I made a very big deal out of graduating high-school. Maybe its a desire to be recognized and loved.
I am not sure how to sort it out but I do know that I thought I could handle being alone this weekend. I am far to ego centric.
The sad thing is what I really desperatly want is to stop having to change my nature and change who I am. I want to just be me and have some one love me and want to be around me for who I am. I want to not have my flaws pointed out to me even when they are trying to be nice. I do not want to always be fighting against who I am to be who i think I should be.
Sadly who I am is so far broken that it takes so much energy to hold the pieces that if I let go even for a moment – it will all tumble down.
Maybe the only way I can let go safely is to fall apart in the quiet of my home surrounded by evidence of my mess – but in such a way that no one but myself gets hurt. Every one around me goes on, feeling maybe that I am a bit flaky or a bit off but not knowing the truth of how broken I am and how hard I fight to stay in one piece.
Sanctuary is what I want – arms around me that will not judge and will allow me to cry and keep me safe. No person can do that job it has to come from with in me, failing that the closest thing to that I have ever found is the soft muzzle of a horse or the gentle rythem of a dog as there chest moves up and down.
2010/06/01
Williams Lake
I stopped watching hockey at one point in life – I still watch it to fit in but over all I simply dislike the game. I loved it as a kid – I thought that it was amazing that so much talent could localize in a province and I felt pride. I then realized that the teams where not made up of people from my home town ( when I was watching the Kamloops blazers) or my province ( when I was watching The Vancouver Canucks) or even my country ( My not-so-secret-love of the Edmonton Oilers) I realized that hockey was one corporation or “club” pitting its money against another corporation or “club” ( that really is a C and an L but my font makes it look like a d )
The game lost its meaning to me and I lost my love. Players went where the money was, the opportunity or even in some cases the better living conditions ( who would want to live in Edmonton when they could live in California?). I resented the players who left their hometowns for bigger better opportunity in the US. I felt betrayed when Gretzky was traded, I even still had a bit of love left in me when a crying team captain was traded from Edmonton.
Stick with me on this I will tie it back in I promise.
My hometown was rated the worst place to live in Canada. I say my hometown because Williams Lake is where I was born. It is where I went to school more often then not ( I did move a lot) and while I lived in outlying areas these areas where not incorporated towns they where essentially subdivisions REALLY far away. But still with in the service area covered by Williams Lake ( Including schools).
I grew up with a distaste for this town. An urge to escape it and all towns like it grew inside of me.
Williams Lake has intelligent, well intended good people living there. They have children born there that could make a difference in the quality of life of those in the town. Much like me though – those children and those people want out. Only a small percentage of the people with the skills and the will to do anything about the social problems facing Williams Lake stay. A large portion of those who stay – repeat the cycle of violence and crime and lack of community pride that can be seen in that town.In short Williams Lake is in a slow free fall of erosion, suffering from its own brain drain. Lack of opportunity could be used as a factor. Lack of access to education. Accept all of these things exist both opportunity and Education. Williams Lake has a University that has been growing steadily over the past 10 years. The forestry sector has declined dramatically but the services and health sector has grown, farming is on decline but tourism is on the rise . High-school students in Williams Lake have access to University classes while still in high-school. With less competition for grants and bursaries (less people) there is more opportunity for a hard working individual to advance their education.
So then why the brain drain – the the drain of talent and socially responsible individuals who could indeed change the community?
The answer for me is one that I ponder. I left – as fast as I could. Had I stayed would I have become part of the solution? I some how doubt it, I think me or my offspring may have actually become part of the problem. I needed to leave – its doubtful I will ever return.
I ask myself though – what if Williams Lake as a town paid for individuals to leave to go to school under a contract to return and work for the town? Towns paying there students to become doctors, nurses, Teachers, Economist etc. Maybe we could take a page from the idea behind native bands educating there younger generation.
Now back to the hockey players – Why would any one live in Edmonton when they could live in California or any other place that is not a frozen wasteland? The only reason I can think of is community pride. Some hockey players try to never leave. Some invest back into there community.
Community pride – I have none when it comes to Williams Lake. Free school may have kept me there long enough to fulfill my obligation. But with out community pride I would have had no desire to really fix the problems. Is this true for others? I don’t know – but I know there is a distinct difference in many peoples mind between those who are deemed “lifers” and those who get out. Almost no one wants to be thought of as a lifer.
Williams Lake – a town that will erode as its best people find no reason to stay. Its clean lakes and vast country side will only cause a handful to return. I at times will admit to longing for the lazy summer days found exploring the “back 40″ – swimming in the “swimming hole” found in the dairy fields located as an undeveloped farm land on one end of town. A common make out spot and playground for children and teenagers alike.
I will say this – When I lived in Williams lake – it was deamed a city with the highest crime rate per capita – But it was not the world outside of my doors that worried me in Williams Lake. It was the world found behind the doors that the papers are now saying need to be locked. It is likely not the town itself I am trying to escape – but the culture that turns a blind eye to the obvious atrocities occurring with in the homes of those found in that town.
There can be no pride in a community that turns a blind eye.
2010/05/31
This must be what its like watching me
I have spent the last few days trying to find ways to help my sister see she is walking into a world of hurt.
She is not listening. I have tried to simply find ways for her to walk into the world of hurt and protect her kids. Its not going to happen.
The person that I do not want to be most in this world is her. We share the same genes we share a similar past. She is a mother and I am not.
My heart breaks as I realise I can not protect the children of the world. I can not even be in there life.
What about my own children? Could I protect them from my past? Would I become blind and irrational just because I had children?
I committed to cleaning the house today and committed to finishing my school assignment. I completed my assignment but have yet to clean the house.
A sign, a reminder that deep inside of me is still a scared child crying out for justice. I am almost 30 years old and I have failed to protect a single child in my life – how could I be so angry at those who did not protect me.
All I keep thinking about is Tylers girlfriend and what if that becomes my sister 
2010/01/17
Numb to the world around me Or maybe Practical
Sometimes I get very caught up in my own world. When this happens I miss what is happening in the rest of the world. I didn’t know Micheal Jackson had died until days after. I heard about the earthquake in Haiti only because I heard a tv in a store discussing the aftermath. I was pretty numb to it.
I remember being glued to my tv after the terrorist attacks in New York city. B and D and Q and I all in our apartment in Richmond eating Pizza and watching CNN.
The year that followed, I continued to watch. In fact I never stopped watching. In the hospital day in and day out with my aunt while she battled cancer. I watched the news. One day the world around me got to be to much. Something broke and I couldn’t take any more. I went an entire year with out picking up a newspaper reading a headline or even watching/listening to the news. It was peaceful. Willful ignorance. I had thought I would come back after my year hiatus with a fresh new look at the news. The problem is now it just overwhelms me so I tune it out. I liked the peace of not knowing what was going on.
I turn a blind eye to the suffering around me. The collapsing economy of the United States, the struggle Canada faces with its government. A GIANT disaster where over 100,000 people have DIED.
I start to think about it, spend some time learning about it. All I want to do is BE THERE helping. I suddenly have an urge to join the Canadian peace keepers— Something I believed I would do in my life time a long time ago, when I first learned what they were— A need to run off and try and save lives.
I once wanted to save all the puppies and kittens of the world. I realized I could not. If I saved all the puppies and kittens from death – who would feed them. I once wanted to save all the unborn babies that mothers didn’t want. I then realized that there are some conditions to NOT bring a child into the world. I once wanted to save all the horses from the slaughter house. Then I realized that slaughter houses for horses was an entire striving business that fed families and gave us glue and dog food. I once wanted to save all the trees and never cut down a single one. Then I realized it was a growth and harvest cycle, not to mention my family was supported by timber dollars.
I once even tried to save chickens from being slaughtered. Two, a male and a female. The lesson that these chickens were not pets and were food was learned quickly. A month later the two chickens I saved by chasing into the woods DIED. No reason accept they were purchased as meat chickens they were genetically altered – unable to reproduce and meant to grow fast and then be eaten. I hope there death was not painful. I know that because of me there death was in vein.
Life continued to try and teach me over and over one simple lesson. You can not save everything and every one. It’s a lesson I sometimes think I want to refuse to learn.
I can not save the lives of the people who are dying right now from the affects an earthquake can have on a location. I can offer support to allow the economy to grow again. I can recognize that I may not wish to read and be glued to the details of whats happening. I may not wish to see the photos and hear of the death toll daily. It doesn’t mean I do not care. It doesn’t mean I am numb. It means to me that there is one lesson I did learn. I can not help any one until I can help myself.
The time lost to crying over the devastation—yes there are tears if I even start to think about it or bring one image of the devastation to mind— pouring over news articles and trying to come up with ways to help, is wasted when I do it. My time is better spend doing my school work. Educating myself, and finally as I can increasing the amount of money I lend out on Kiva.org. Increasing the amount that I try and help economies regrow after disaster has struck. Even just increasing the amount that I try and contribute to the growth of any economy. Of course if they EVER give me an internship at kiva.org I can also give them my time.
S0 maybe I am not numb—just practical.
2010/01/16
Trigger
I have been struggling with a trigger as of late. Why is it when I feel some one is “off” do I insist on invading there personal space and pushing all in effort to learn what is wrong?
Its a good question – especially because I have made a conscious effort to not do it. Yet I still find myself in an uncontrollable fear around it.
I say uncontrollable because at this point when it happens I feel as though I am watching it occur, taking notes, analyzing myself in hopes of learning where the behavior is coming from.
Last night I had what I call a therapy dream. Its a dream where I feel like I am sitting down with myself and discussing those notes.
To often I forget that Post traumatic stress disorder occurs in some people after a traumatic event. Complex Post traumatic stress disorder just means there was lots of traumatic events. Not all events have to be related to my childhood.
I try as much as possible to compare and contrast my explosive behavior at an earlier age with my more subtle behavior now. Understand I do not think all my behavior is just uncontrollable Just some of it.
The flip between anger – out to protect the child like characteristic I have at times. And then finally submission of the a child. Afraid for its very life.
Why though? Learn why, then learn how to talk to yourself. Is learning why only deluding myself into accepting a bad situation? Who knows. I know I did it once before. I know I deluded myself into becoming something I truly did not want to be with J. Ok so a level of protection and a recognition that while the situation I am responding to could be something that requires a response, the response given is not one in my control. Get it in my control is the goal.The problem is I must learn to be ME when responding.
Ok so why? Why when I get that feeling, the one I can not shake that something is wrong, why do I push? Why do I lack respect? Why do I not allow my partner to simply BE and come to me when they are ready?
Fear – most things are motivated by fear or insecurity.
Ok time for a story – I am warning you its not pretty and no one likes to hear the things that have occured badly in some ones life. Or maybe you read this because I am like a car wreck and you can not look away.
Most of you know I spent a year with a single goal – break all my personal rules and then make new ones. It never occurred to me that I built those rules to protect myself. In hindsight I think I might have been more selective about the ones I broke – had I thought it through.
This is as a joke known as “operation remove stick from ass” To me though at times it was the seventh layer of my personal hell.
There was a boy. Isn’t there always a boy. He was my first broken rule. I was warned about him. His own friend “Krista this man is trouble.” I was naive and then not so much. I wanted trouble. I wanted to break the block that had kept me in a place far to long. I needed to take the link of deep emotion and sex and separate them. In hind sight I really did not need to do that. It would take me so many years to get that link back.
I was drunk. I had never been that drunk in my life. And RARELY since then. We were in the back of his car, in a bar parking lot. Classy I know. I tried to tally up what I had drank – it wasn’t a lot. I would learn over a year later the reason I had such a blotty memory was a small amount of GHB – the first time some one gave me some. Not the last. Does the GHB account for what happens next? I doubt it. Maybe though. I wanted to rebel. The GHB was an accident – both times I received it was an accident.
***side note: rig workers often give themselves GHB as a way to enhance a drunk at a lower price, I was a chronic stealer of sips of drinks****
I asked for a glass of water. I was so thirsty. I was told there was only one way I was getting out of the car for a glass of water. In my drunken haze the request seemed reasonable. It was what I was after any way. It was a rule I needed to break. I never got the glass of water (I should have realized that). I tried to leave with out his name, with out anything. I never wanted to see him again. I had gotten what I wanted – a way to finally escape myself and my rules. He gave his number to one of my friends, made me promise I would call.
A month later – bored, lonely who knows. I called him. During the rest of my stint in Fairview we would talk weekly. I was still wild and crazy and doing what ever I wanted. My weekly talks with him were normal. He would talk about his work and his family and I would talk about my life before Fairview – never what was happening there.
All sorts of stuff happened – that is for another day another time. But you need to know all of this because of what happens next. Maybe understand why the next part shocked me. Maybe also understand why if I had even been remotely myself – I a. would never have spoke to this boy b. would never have given him the time of day. c. would have never called him again – especially because I never got my glass of water.
On my way back to Vancouver – to start a job. Me my truck and my dog. Just outside of fox creek – BANG and then smoke. A farmer towed me off the road. I was stranded. I called my dad – “I can not help you, you are on your own. Your moms in PG and I am on my way to camp – good luck.” It took me a long time to stop hating him for that.
I called the boy. I didn’t know what else to do – I had his phone number memorized. Why I didn’t call any one else I still do not know. The boy said “meet me in Wataskiwin I will pick you up there, we can get your truck on the weekend.” He was as caring and kind as always.
I got myself to Wataskwin – it was semi uneventful. We had not seen each other since that night in the car. We went back to his hotel room. He was sweet and kind. I told him no. My reasons for saying No are mine and I will keep them to myself, but either way it was not happening.
He went to work in the morning. I proceeded to figure out a way out of my predicament. He returned that night – said a crew mate of his was coming into town and all the girls loved him. He was insecure that I would chase him. Dinner with his crew mate, turned into drinks, turned into pool. My habit of sipping his drink got me into trouble again – this time he told me why. The night proceeded and I told him NO again. This time he rolled over and refused to talk to me. Not a word to me. The next day he got back from work and said nothing to me just took my stuff removed it from his hotel room and put it in the hallway. I had just spent the day figuring out I could start a job in Lacomb not to far from where we were. I could then be closer to get my truck and my dog.
His crew mate offered me a ride to the bus station. I accepted. It became clear that he was NOT taking me to the bus station and said “Don’t worry I will drive you to Red Deer” My ride to Lacomb was arranged from Red Deer in the morning.
Ok I said. Noting I clearly was not being given a choice. We drove and talked and then we turned off a highway. I panicked – but I had never been any where in Alberta. the side road become more desolate by the mile. He stopped the car.
I had imagined what I would do in this situation all my life I had. imagined how I could fight back. I can tell you I did nothing that I thought I would do. I was given two options. One was to be left on the Alberta back road. The other was to comply with his request. Much to my personal shame, and what becomes the product of many night mares to date. I complied. I analyzed the situation. I decided he was bigger then me, it was cold and dark (March) I was afraid.
The story continues. Of course it does. Bits and pieces of this journey from hell. The journey that just kept getting worse.My memory is spotty at times – clear other times.
Is this the thing I am reliving emotionally when my partner turns his back on me? When I feel his frustration but do not know why? Is this the thing that I am scared will happen if I do not do something anything.
Post traumatic stress causes a person to relive an event. To that person the shadows and echos are real.
A car back fires and a Vietnam vet hits the deck. He responded at that moment as if he was else where. Is this where I go?
My emotions of solid fear so strong I can not control. drugs knock me out. They do not stop the fear. Its consistent the fear. Its always there when ever it happens.
Judith Herman in the book Trauma and Recovery writes “healing can not take place for the victim of trauma with out a supportive relationship”
I want to heal myself – but some how I think I need the help of those around me. Maybe speaking directly to the fear. Maybe now that I THINK I have an idea of where it comes from I can address the fear when it happens. “K you are not going to be kicked out by B with no way home and no idea what to do next. He is not going to stop talking to you. He has been your friend for 10 years.”
Thinks I know but need to believe at that moment.
Why does growth have to cause me to shed so many tears and relive so much hurt? Maybe I should have followed some rules. I can assure you there are lots I will never break again!
2010/01/13
Rules
at some point we grow up. Maybe you are 80 years old when you grow up or maybe you are 30. At some point we stop identifying as a child and we grow up. I thought when I got married that was it. I quickly learned that was not the case.
I wonder if the moment we grow up is the moment we realise that life has rules, we are all playing the game of life and it gets a lot easier if we just start following the rules.
My nature to break them, move them, bend them and expect every one to fall in line was a good quality in the environment I grew up in. It does not apply to a a normal environment ( sub thought define normal). So what did the last year or two of my marriage teach me? It taught me about social contracts and following the rules. It opened my eyes to a lack of respect I have had for these social contracts and a lack of desire to play the game so to speak. I charge forward expecting that making my own rules will get me what I want.
In the end I suspect life will be a bit easier and a bit less chaotic if I just start falling in line. It feels fake and sufficating now but maybe over time it will start to feel normal.
cognitive dissents.
2010/01/04
A day to stare out the window and drool
So this past month has been very stressful. My mind is feeling it and my body is feeling it. I crave safety and re assurance more then ever before.
My eating habits are the first to go usually followed by my sanity. My filter disapears and I say more then I want. I start losing track of time and getting very confused.
its times like this I want to commit myself. Move to the safety of not having to think. This of couse is lazy on my part. So after fighting and trying to be functional and fighting. Today I just sat on the couch and blew everything off.
I made one phone call – it needed to be made. I did pretty much nothing else. I showered but that took seriouse convincing and I even got dressed. Impressive for me today I think.
Now here I sit at my new favorite coffee shop ready to blog. But about what?I could choose a number of worn out topics. They are all attempts to not discuss what is really on my mind.
Parts of me crave the ability to be heard. Caution holds me back. fear of causing pain by speaking my mind. Every action has a consequence.
People have the ability to lift me up or pull me down. I have the ability to lift me up or pull me down.
I want to live in a world where every one works together and when some one is having a hard time people say ” How can I help”
I make a really big effort to ask people how I can make there experience in life better, easier, richer. How can I help them enjoy themselves.
I think I need some one to do that for me. Maybe I pushed every one away who would do that?
I have been saying the same thing over and over again in many different ways.
The punishment given to me regularly for those I choose to associate with hurts. It hurts in a way that is eating at my soul. It hurts in a way that is destroying me. Dramatic yes. It hurts to know that even when I think its getting better its not. It pushes me further away.
I once phoned a friend up and said ” make sex interesting for me again”
yes thats right I called some one I cared about and asked them to devote a day of their life to helping me remember why people like to be touched and loved. He did. Why he did it I will never know. I do know I appreciated it. I had given so much I forgot how to enjoy myself.
I of course do not have the freedom to call a friend up now and ask them to ” make life interesting for me”
I know that I need to do that myself but some times you need some one to kick start it for you. You need some one to spend a day making you feel safe and loved. Sometimes the deamons in our mind are to strong to fight and we need an external validation.
My struggle has always come when I needed that external validation and my partner wanted nothing more then to be as far away from me as possible. My solution – ask some one else. A sense of entitlement to getting what I need existed.
My struggle now is to accept it – accept that you can not always have what you want. I do not even need sexual validation. I need some one to invite me to a movie and laugh about something that means nothing. I need to have a conversation with some one about DRM or any other subject that while I can never change the world with I can sure have fun talking about it – a break from life. I need to argue about the existence of free will. I need to listen to hitch hikers guide to the galaxy and simply know some one else is listening with me. In short I need a friend.
I was supose to be reading a book with some one. I lost the book title and bricked my ereader. I havent told him yet but I guess I am now.
I am suppose to be doing something in a long list of things but I can not remember what.
Instead I will sit back and hope tomorrow is a better day. Hope that the feeling of doom and fear goes away and my mind clears and I can once again be me.
I will hope that the deep loneliness subsides and the feeling of distance goes away.
I will try and remeber floating on a lake feeling a connection. I will try and remeber what it was like to have some one devote a whole day to helping me remeber enjoyment. I will try and remeber what it was like to have long chats that went no where and know that those will happen again.
I can not always get everything I want when I want it. h
2009/11/17
Trust
Trust Noun:
- Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, or character of a person or thing.
- Custody; care.
- Something committed into the care of another; charge.
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- The condition and resulting obligation of having confidence placed in one: violated a public trust.
- One in which confidence is placed.
- Reliance on something in the future; hope.
- Reliance on the intention and ability of a purchaser to pay in the future; credit.
- Law.
- A legal title to property held by one party for the benefit of another.
- The confidence reposed in a trustee when giving the trustee legal title to property to administer for another, together with the trustee’s obligation regarding that property and the beneficiary.
- The property so held.
- A combination of firms or corporations for the purpose of reducing competition and controlling prices throughout a business or an industry.
For the purpose of this blog lets look at definition # 1 and #5( which we will re number to #2)
- Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, or character of a person or thing.’
- Reliance on something in the future; hope.
What does trust mean ? Sure we have in front of us two definitions: They both seem like leaps of faith.
What do we use to decide if we should trust some one ? We use patterns. Patterns of their life and patterns of lives around them. No one wishes to look like a fool for trusting some one to do something outside of a pattern every one around sees.
Some of you may remeber I am very very very fond of the story in natural born killers it goes like this:
Old Indian: Once upon a time, a woman was picking up firewood. She came upon a poisonous snake frozen in the snow. She took the snake home and nursed it back to health. One day the snake bit her on the cheek. As she lay dying, she asked the snake, “Why have you done this to me?” And the snake answered, “Look, bitch, you knew I was a snake.”
I tell this story as a way to reconcile the fact that I have spent a great deal of time with people I knew would do certian things – the moment I accepted them for who they were and simply enjoyed the things about them I liked always expecting them to act a certian way. I was happier.
Others have taken this story and applied it differently I think. All the snakes I know – have never proffesed to change, have never told me they were anything but, Have never felt there was anything WRONG with their behavior. I have known they were snakes – and never allowed them to bite me. A few have – but I have never let them close enough to do it again.
But now I have some one who thinks I am the snake.. They trust that I will do as a snake does one day. I will revert to a behavior they feel they must just accept in me.
This is a behavior I worked hard to curb. I told them about my struggle and I told them about my desire to change it. I told them about the intricate detials of how I had changed it and how it was brought back out in me. I even had changed it. I learned and I grew. I knew I would revert to some extent and I asked for help. I went to them weak and broken and said please help me come up with a plan to not be a snake any more. And we did and it worked !!! The freedom I feel is amazing. The happyness that I feel from the lesson I have learned. The transformation so deep with in me.
Yet there is no trust. Because to the people around me I am a snake, I will always be a snake.
I refuse to believe this though. I refuse to allow others to define me. I refuse to allow others to decide who I am based on my past. My future is what I own and my actions now show true.
Have I been tempted … sure. Do I feel pride for my choice. Do I feel a sense of accomplishment for what has been achieved YES !!.
So what does it mean when I say trust me: It means believe in me, believe in the value I place on you.
I can and will grow – I believe you can and will grow – I bet on you, I bet everything I had on you. Believe in me as I believe in you.
2009/11/13
No heat – what follows is the memory of a child.
So here it is – I have been off kilter for a few weeks now. Struggling with finding the cause. What is throwing me off. What is pushing me over the edge. As my doctor would say ” what is the trigger ”
No Heat:
Odd trigger but lets go into it.
There is no heating unit in the house I am living in. NONE. I didn’t know this would be an issue and now I know it is. It is COLD roughly between 10 and 15 degrees all the time.
Ok not a big deal – fix the situation. But this situation seems to be a trigger for me – I think.
I mean really its a scientific process of elimination. Spot the trigger deal with it – then deal with the problem.
So I used the stove today to create enough heat in my kitchen to sit down at home and now leave for a coffee shop for warmth.
I started to ask myself – what does No heat mean to me:
No heat – is how the house felt the day I woke up and both my parents were gone. it was almost a month before I saw my father again. I was 8 years old it was March. it was longer befor I saw my mom – well after my birthday – well after the snow had gone. My mom never returned to that house. It was the only house my parents ever owned. It was a week day. i do not remember what the night before was like and I don’t remember if I should have known. My mom probably had been sick for awhile. I woke up my 11nyear old brother was on the couch. My sister and I shared a room which was off the living room. My Brother was sitting there staring out the window. The house was freezing.
” Mom went to the hospital in Prince Goerge, Dad went with her”
PRINCE GOERGE @@@@ that was 5 hours away, they would only take her there if she was really sick. She was – she was in a comma – her lungs had collapsed and she was on a respirator.
I was really scared but there was no heat. There was no breakfast and there was no one to look after us. So i took over. My sister says she never understood why when mom was in the hospital I never cried I never got mad I just made sure every one went to school and every one ate.
I do not remeber in a clear way what happened next but I have a memory that I often call a filler. Mydoctor tells me they are simply echos of what happened. I took over that I know for sure. I do not know how and I don’t why at 8 years old I felt I needed to take over and why I didnt just do what my siblings did.
So I asked Kevin to light the stove – he probably did. I do not remember. I made my little sister Koolaide so she would stop crying – she really liked the purple stuff. I know I fed my dog. I know we went to school and I know I made dinner when we got home. I know I packed lunches.
I do not remeber how exactly I found the cash my dad left or why I didnthave to fight my brother for control over it. But I made sure we ate.
It was a week before some one determined 3 kids should not be living on their own. Maybe it was longer. There was a large family in town that spread us out amongst them. My brother was the last to leave the house. refusing. We all kind of refused. Going there after school every day but eventually sleeping at other peoples houses.
I am sure there were things at work that I didnt know about at 8 years old – but I really thought we were on our own. I thought no one was coming back and my mom was dead.
She didnt die. She almost died. She woke up from her comma a month later.
Whats the point of me telling this story. the point is Yes I survived yes we all did. But I was 8 years old and left to fend for myself. Granted this was not the first time – it was the longest. It would be July before i saw my mom out of the hospital. My dad would have sold our house to my uncle at to low of price, this would later cause tension between them. My mom was transfered to kamloops hospital and eventually released – she would find a house for us to rent — I can still find the house on google maps. All our stuff would sold. we could take with us one suitcase each. My dog, and my two siblings cats would come with us. Grade 4 finished for me and we went to Kamloiops. My mom was alive and better ! she was healthy again. She needed oxegen some times but for the most part she was healthy. My dad didnt live with us – he was in camp. My grandpa stayed with us. It was septemeber again before I woke up to no mom. Kevin told me she was in the hospital again. It was picture day at school. I refused to stay home. School was my only consistant thing – my only way to get away i think.
I could go on an don and on about all the times I woke up to my parents gone – all the times a police officer picked me up from school and all the times i stayed with foster parents – either paid for by the government or just friendly neighbors.
The worst time – the scariest time and the hardest time – was that cold day early march in Hudsons Hope.
What do I hope to accomplish by sitting at the kitchen table writing this. I suppose i hope to tell a part of me that its OK and that I will look after myself and that it was ok to be scared and that crying would have been ok. That I was not the adult and it was not my responsibility. I was forced to be the adult and every one lived.
And the day started with no heat.
I wake up in the morning with no heat. I am immediately afraid and I can not figure out why. Maybe now I know.