Everything Happens for a Reason

Recent events have definitely made me realize that everything happens for a reason. Call it fate... call it God's will... call it whatever you want. On one hand I was thinking that Facebook was a bad thing since it cost me my job. But on the other it allowed me to reconnect with people I have not seen in years, people that I always wondered, "Whatever happened to ______?"

Losing my job set me free. At first sure there was shock, anger and disbelief. After all I didn't expect this to happen and certainly didn't do anything out of malice. But it was a blessing in disguise. I have a lot less stress now. And I was never going to get anywhere there. Now I am free... free to do what I want.

They really don't teach you about life in school... I went to public school and then high school. It was assumed that I was going to go to university so I did. I got my degree in Psychology but couldn't find a job. So I settled for life in a call center and stayed because I had a steady pay cheque. Now I can do anything... I can pursue my writing... and pursue jobs that I have an interest in.

My lease is also up so while I have to give 60 days notice I can choose to move elsewhere if so desired. Anyone that knows me knows that I am not fond of Peterborough. And there are more opportunities for me to do coaching/counselling elsewhere. So it just might be my chance to leave here for good.

And getting back to Facebook it has brought people back into my life that I haven't seen since I left Cobourg almost a decade ago. Now when I left Cobourg I never looked back. Having people come back into my life also made me realize there were parts of the past that I had never dealt with... that I had just ignored and swept under the rug. I thought if I ran from it then it didn't matter. All you need is someone to push you, a spark to ignite things. Suddenly I was face to face with everything. No more running this time. I am nowhere near the point where healing is complete but it's a step in the right direction.

Support often comes from unlikely sources... One person from work has really kept me going through the tough times. She has done a fantastic job of keeping me positive and focused. But when I was fired I thought I'd never hear from her again. I had only known Michelle for a short period of time and had no contact information before I was fired. But she tracked me down and has been a huge source of inspiration.

The other source of inspiration has come from my past. Shana recently found me on Facebook and we got to talking. It was like no time at all had passed even though it had been a decade. She has challenged me even when I was quite happy to stay in my little bubble. I appreciate friends like that.

Only time will tell what the future will bring but I do know that whatever happens it happens for a reason.

Personal Legacy of Abuse

Shame & Guilt

Quite often we use the words shame and guilt interchangeably. Fossum and Mason stated, "While guilt is a painful feeling of regret and responsibility for one's actions, shame is a painful feeling about oneself as a person." It has also been said "guilt is 'the feeling that what you have DONE is wrong,' and that shame is 'the feeling that what you ARE is wrong.'"

When you come from a life of abuse there is a lot of shame involved. It's very hard to admit that you were a victim. For so long you have thought that this was normal and all families are like this. Inevitably there are also thoughts that you brought this on yourself.

You feel that you are inferior and don't respect yourself. Even though you don't know the first thing about trust and healthy relationships you still think that you should've known better. Take the rape for example. I feel like I should've known better. I do feel somewhat responsible even though it was not my fault. I was the victim but I have a hard time taking on that role.

Shame is a powerful emotion. I know that shame is holding me back. I am ashamed of decisions that I have made. I am also ashamed of the trust issues... the communication issues... and even of events that I had no control over.

So that silence... of bearing the weight myself... stems from a world of shame and embarassment. And when that is all you know how do you get past that? Does healing ever occur?

Easy Way Out

I'm still spending way too much time trying to process everything that happens... just trying to make sense of the world. I've come to realize that my silence and not trusting anyone is about taking the easy way out. It's much easier to keep it to myself then it is to admit that I don't know the first thing about healthy relationships or trust. I don't even know how I should feel. That world is all I know. All I know is pain. I am basically self taught. I come from a world of neglect. As a result I've walked into some brutal situations... and I feel like I should've known better. That vow of silence is also about deficiencies. I overcompensate for my past and have this idea that I have to be perfect. Needless to say I'll never live up to that. I know it's cost me... but I don't know how to change it. I don't know how to ask for help... I had no examples to go by when I was growing up so to a certain degree I make it up as I go along.

I am still intimidated by public speaking... I've always been a ghost in the background.... trying not to stand out. I'm afraid of being wrong.... I'm afraid of being reprimanded. I don't feel safe. I feel exposed. I know what I am doing and I really need to overcome that if I want to move up in the company. It's not like I need to second guess myself every step of the way. I'm not always going to be right and that's okay. I need to bring perception in line with reality. Well basically I need to stop taking the easy way out. Take a chance and admit that I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

Pick Your Battles

My relationsip with my mother has never been good. It has always been a fight. I would probably just cut myself off and have no contact with her since it takes so much energy out of me but at the same time I still want her approval. All I've ever wanted is for her to say, "Job well done" I called her the other day since I wanted to let her know I was going to the hematologist. It became yet another war. That was a few days ago and it still hurts. It made me realize the importance of picking your battles. Some things are just not worth fighting over. Of course, it's really easy to say that and much harder to practice. Why does she still get to me? Why can't I just let go? And , why does she have to fight about the stupidest shit? She still has too much power over me.

Love

I was reminiscing today about days gone by. I've got way too much time to think now.. nothing but me and Azrael.... Part me of is still in love with Adam. Before people get concerned... I am not in some fantasyland not moving on with my life. I am grounded in reality, or at least I have some idea as to what reality is. But part of me still loves him... and maybe I always will. I'm not sure why I feel that way. Maybe it's because I remember what things were like in the beginning... before we became the old married couple that fought all the time. Or maybe it's because I have guilt complex and still blame myself for it's demise.. Or perhaps it was because it was the one and only time that I ever let myself be vulernable and actually give a damn about someone else. It's tough letting go of that. I'm not idealizing the relationship. I know there were flaws in it... nothing is ever perfect. Like Adam not getting over me getting plastered and calling him a typical male.... or me moving in and it always felt like it was his place and I just lived there.... or the fact that by the end I was so tired that I was a complete bitch. Maybe if we hated each other things would be different. Now we just have a fucked up relationship. Hmm... I have no idea what the hell a normal relationship is *lol*

Stalker Steve

People always ask how things with Steve ever got to where they are today... and why I still accept rides from him. To answer that question I would have to go back to January of 2003. I had moved to Peterborough. I didn't know anyone. I just started working at Minacs. I was also staying on someone's couch. I was basically homeless for the second time in 4 months. When I was out in the smoking area I would talk to everyone. It's who I am... or at least who I was.... I can still remember the day my life changed. I was out grocery shopping and I ran into Steve out with his son. I stopped to talk, thinking nothing of it. He invited me out to dinner at some point. I thought it was just a friendly invitation (Have I mentioned how naive I can be?) so I figured why not. I started school and then was only working 3 days a week. Steve would always be there... I really should've got the hint... It took me about 6 months to realize it was more then just him being friendly. Especially when he started showing up randomly.

The problem is that I have seen his anger and I did not (and still don't) want to cross it. By the time I actually realized that he wanted more then friendship I was already between a rock and a hard place. I had no idea how to tell him I wasn't interested without potentially making him angry. Since then I have tried being subtle, tried being blunt, and been in three relationships but he hasn't got the hint. That obsession has now lasted for 3.5 years with no end in sight. He would follow me to the bar and didn't get the hint when I picked up in front of him and left with someone else.

In November of 2003 I started dating Jamie. I thought maybe then Steve would back off and take the hint. I was wrong. He didn't think the relationship would last so he continued to hit on me and just show up at the house. He also knew exactly what buttons to push and used that against me... He has always preyed on my weaknesses and my pain to his advantage.

Then I met Adam... I was with him for over a year. And while Steve didn't hit on me (he knew better) he was still right there... every time I went to work... if I went to the bar after work with Adam he would just show up. People dubbed him stalker Steve and wouldn't tell him where I was. They just ignored his presence. He definitely was persistent. And then his dream came true... I was single again. I was also in rough shape. Adam went psychotic... I wasn't sleeping... and was fucked in the head. Things were basically spiralling out of control.... And I needed to find somewhere to live. I was able to get an apartment in Times Square and then my roommate bailed on me. So I was out of time and desperate. Steve stepped in to bail me out... and agreed to put his name on the lease. At the time it wasn't a problem because I had found a new roommate. But now I was indebted to him and he knew , especially since in the process I ended up owing him money. By this point I had also given up on the possibility that he would take the hint and leave me alone. Nothing I could do or say would convince him that I was not interested.... since even 2 relationships hadn't done the trick.

He did end up using my debt against him. He knew that I absolutely hated being in debt to someone. It just reinforced what my parents had said... so if I owed someone money it gave them power over me. He ended up using that power to get me to have sex with him. Which, of course, made things 10x worse. Now he's really delusional and thinks I want him... which I don't. I think he's a predator...

Just before Tristan and I broke up Jarratt moved out. Steve saw it as the perfect opportunity to continue on with his fantasy and ability to control me. He moved in since his name was on the lease... and said he'd only be there for a month or so... until we could find a roommate. Tristan hated him with a passion. He saw him as a creep but I think there was also an element of jealousy, or perhaps insecurity. I tolerated him because in three years I still hadn't found a way to get rid of him. It was a sore point between us... but I couldn't kick Steve out. Steve is not the reason we broke up... but he is the primary reason we did not get back together. Tristan could not get past the fact I had slept with Steve... even though I didn't want to. And Steve wanted to make sure I didn't end up in another relationship.

It got to the point where I couldn't even leave the apartment. I was scared to go to the bar. I figured either he would follow me there or he would just wait until I was drunk and take advantage of me. When I drink I tend to forget those things called limits... and it gets me into trouble. I have no conscious thoughts and definitely am in no position to give consent. I'll remember everything that happens... but at the time my thought process is basically non existent. And considering I have a tendency to have alcohol poisoning... That was a bit of a tangent... but it has happened twice now (not including the three I've mentioned previously) including by Steve. I was trapped. And he was always there.

Just before my LOA I was at the end of my rope. I knew he was the reason why Tristan and I weren't together. I was feeling trapped. I preferred to be at work then at home. I wanted him the hell out of my apartment but he had turned it into a storage unit and I was afraid to let anyone else see it. I couldn't take it. Truth be told he was the reason I wanted to go back to the self-injury... which is the main reason I ended up on the LOA. The funny part is that he never even realized that he was the reason for it.

So that was how it started... and why do I still accept rides from him and tolerate him? Because I can't get rid of him as it is. So I might as well make use of him. Anyone that has seen what it's like has agreed with my assessment. Adam wants me to stay away from him as much as possible but also believes that he is dangerous and that I should be careful.

I never said my life was normal... Seems to be more of a soap opera. I wish I knew a way to get him to leave me alone... I really do. Moving has helped... so has the shifts I am on... but I still can't completely get away from him. I'm starting to think I would have to move far away to be free of him. I'm not even sure a ring on my finger would do the trick. I supposed there is one other option... but I don't think so.

From the Beginning

I was born 9 weeks early on November 20th, 1978 in Cobourg, Ontario. I was rushed to Peterborough General Hospital with respiratory distress. At that time it was remrkable I even survived. My mom was 16 years old and gave me up for adoption.

Okay so this is not a chronicle of my life history and I won't start that far back. People that know me now probably wouldn't have had the same opinion of me a decade ago. Hard to believe it's been that long. I know that everyone goes through a time of teenage angst and rebellion. I didn't care if I lived or died. You tend to be kind of reckless with that attitude. All I knew was pain, anger, bitterness and even hate. I would head into situations I knew were bad. And sure enough I got burned, which just perpetuated the cycle. I wasn't even sure I'd make it to university. I thought I'd be dead first. A tragic end to a tragic life.

But there were some contradictions in my world. See, from the time I was little, I had to go to church every Sunday. When I was in high school I was also involved in Youth for Christ. I still went to church although it was a different church then my parents. I was a leader in the youth group. I think it was the only stable thing I had going... and probably kept me alive.

For as angry as I was I am surprised I didn't turn to alcohol, drugs or even smoking. Some people who know me now might be a little shocked by that. I didn't start smoking until I was 18 and my dad and sister accused me of lying about smoking. Been a smoker off and on ever since. The longest I've been able to quit for is 6 months. I also started drinking when I was 18. That was a bad year for me. I don't think I tried drugs until I was 20. Even then it's not something I've done very often. So I may have been angry but I didn't rebel as much as one might expect.

Mind you I did find ways to self destruct. In an attempt to deal with it I turned to cutting. It was all controlled and ritualistic. The cuts were basically deep enough to draw blood and then I'd stop. Once there was physical pain your body reacts. It's called self preservation. But it also allows you to become numb emotionally. And it is a little too effective. I lost a lot of friends over it. Whenever I was feeling overwhelmed it was a quick way to calm down. So I used it for over a decade... until it was almost out of control. I was cutting deeper and more often to get the same results. When I scared someone that was really close to me I promised her I would quit. And I did... for 3 years. Now that is actually impressive since I had no other coping mechanisms to replace it with. It wasn't until Adam went psychotic and I was concerned for my own safety that I went back to it. Val knew about it and tried to control the behaviour. That only made it worse. I stopped again but it wasn't for me... it was for her.

My relationships were also on the reckless side. Until I moved to Peterborough and vowed not to be in a relationship I pretty much cheated on everyone, except Al. I ended up in some really bad relationships as well. I didn't value myself at all. The irony is that I still held to the Christian values that premarital sex was a sin. Even though I was pressured I didn't give in. As it turns out I might as well have. Instead, at the age of 13 I was raped by a guy I knew from church. I was still innocent. I believed everyone was good and that this wouldn't happen. It probably took a decade before I didn't want to be drunk on the anniversary, or use self-injury to escape. 5 years later I set myself up again. When you don't drink... downing Crown Royal straight is not the smartest plan. I had no tolerance for alcohol and just set myself up to repeat the experience, which is exactly what happened. It was much easier to blame myself. I knew I shouldn't have gone. I knew I shouldn't have been drinking. So I blamed myself for what happened. So my first two sexual encounters both had elements of violence. After that it didn't matter. Sex had no value or meaning to me. I used it to feel better about myself... to escape the loneliness and the pain. But typically they were just one night stands. I felt nothing... just more emptiness. I would simply dissociate and then move on to the next person.

Even when I moved to Peterborough I still had the same attitude. I didn't give a damn about myself and nothing mattered. I didn't want a relationship... so that I didn't have to cheat or even care about someone else. I was jaded and figured I would just get hurt in the long run. I would go to the bar, get drunk and pick someone up. High risk behaviour... it's like playing Russian Roulette. Then Jamie came long. He was such a sweetheart. I didn't think I deserved him... so I crushed him... Well actually I broke up with him for Adam. Aside from Al that was an innocent high school love Adam was the only other person I ever loved. He still tries to get me to believe in myself... I'm not sure how successful that is though.

I have definitely toned down the risky behaviour although for a little while after Adam and I separated I didn't learn not to pick up guys from work. That break up hurt deeply and, once again, I wanted to feel needed. So I was back to the meaningless one night stands. Then there was Adam's birthday... Or should I say the day before Adam's birthday. That night will definitely not be forgotten. Lori was dropping me off downtown and invited me to stop by Sin City to say hi. I had lost friends when Adam and I broke up. What I had forgotten was that it was Adam's birthday and he would be there celebrating. Now Adam I don't mind... there were other people that I wasn't crazy about seeing... I left pretty quickly and went down to Riley's for Shaun's birthday. I should probably back up here a moment. For one, I had an interest in one of the guys at work and was thinking about a relationship with him. The other point was that the nesting agents were surrounding me at work. I wasn't helping that group but I had talked to a number of them. Mike was at Riley's and was drunk by the time I got there. He had to work the next day so I invited him over to my place so that he wouldn't be fired... he was on a last chance agreement at the time. Part of me was also hoping to get laid. They decided to get high and head down to the strippers. But Mike said he mgiht stop by afterwards... So then I located all the agents that had just finished nesting and kept drinking. Pretty soon they decided to head elsewhere. So we went down to the White House. And this was where things got interesting. When we got there Tristan didn't have any money so I offered to buy him a drink. It wasn't a big deal to me. Tristan was good looking and younger so when we spent the rest of the night talking that was a good thing to me. Even got out on the dance floor. Mike was committment phobic and Tristan was the opposite. He invited me back to his place and, looking back, I wish I had taken him up on that offer. I turned him down since I had already agreed to let Mike sty t my place... and I was pretty loaded by that point. So I walked home. Jarratt, John and a few other people showed up shortly after that. then Mike did show up... he almost started a fight. I was planning to make him sleep on the couch but John was there. I was ready to pass out but he ended up sharing my bed. And one thing led to another... but as I sobered up a bit I realized that he wasn't the one I wanted to be with and felt guilty. The room was also starting to spin so I stopped. He got angry so I left the room. When I came back I thought he was asleep so I went to bed and passed out. I was wrong. Or if he was asleep he woke up again. I don't want to relive that night so I won't fill in the details... but it ended with me kicking him out and a long, cold walk to the police station at 5:30 a.m.

Looking back there are a lot of "what ifs". What if Tristan hadn't been there that night? What if I hadn't invited Mike back? What if I had've gone back to Tristan's? What if... what if... what if... I know there is no point asking those questions because it won't change anything. I can't go back in time and change what happened. But I still can't help wondering. Then there is the debate as to whether or not I should've pressed charges. People like telling me it was the right thing to do. That's easy for them to say... it didn't happen to them. They aren't the ones that had to go through a police interview... then come back to the apartment still hung over and watch the police take pictures and evidence... and then there was the 5 hour examination at the hospital... oh and then a videotaped interview. It took 10 hours before I came back home... and was so exhausted that I just crashed. It was a gruelling ordeal and one, like every other time, I just wanted to forget. But it wasn't just reliving the event that was painful. At work I was a huge target. There seemed to be people that wanted me gone and had made that their mission. There was a rumour that I was a "lying bitch who had him charged out of spite." It made it extremely difficult to go to work. When I went on my LOA there was even a poll as to the reason I was of work... and the rape had the most votes. Now the fact they even had that poll is pretty bad. The charges ended up being withdrawn but that doesn't make it any easier. He was down in the maze the other day visiting people and a shock went through my system.

So some things never seem to change. The worst part about that whole situation (back to the "what ifs") is that Tristan and I are no longer together. After a month and a half we broke up. The reason for that is probably left for another discussion. So, in the end did it even matter? Does anything matter?

I'm not the same person I was a decade ago... I suppose no one is. I thought the world owed me something. I had a huge chip on my shoulder and was filled with anger. I was heading for disaster.... I'm not even sure what happened that changed that. I suspect that the biggest change came when my parents moved across the country. I was suddenly independant and they had no power over me. The second biggest event was when I actually graduated from university. For the first time I could say "I told you so." I had accomplished something. It could also be that I have just accepted my fate. But I have definitely changed, for the better. Some of it comes with age... some with experience.... and some with the acceptance that bad things are a part of life.

Hmm... now I can't even remember why I started this. I would do really well with Freud's concept of free association where you just start with whatever is going on in the mind. It's a good example of my mind being the tortured soul. It's like there is a wall in front me and I can't get past it. Things have gotten better, no question, but there are still some things I have not gotten past. And some days I question whether or not I ever will.

It's been a long time since I've actually done this much soul searching. Even on my LOA it was more about anger over being forced off work and things with the roommate... it wasn't about truth... pain... life. And since I came back to work I have had other things to occupy my time. But I always was a thinker.... one of my downfalls actually. I analyze every thing I do and spend way too much time thinking about things. It's probably the other reason I have trouble letting go. I spend too much time dwelling on it. But it's part of who I am. And I doubt it will ever change.