PTSD is a bitch. When you live and breathe it daily, you don’t know any better. It’s like being born with a headache; you don’t know you have one until it’s gone. As a teen, Big M told me I was moody and depressed – a typical teenager. She also told me daughters and mothers never get along in the teen years, which is also totally normal. Uh Huh. As a young adult, I knew more than anything that I would never be a parent. Ever. I didn’t know how to relate to children, I’d never spent any time with children, I’d always been surrounded by adults; but mostly, I believe children were a burden. Deep down, I knew I’d be an abuser. I was terrified to be alone with children. I assumed I’d be a sexual deviant and if I wasn’t, I’d probably just beat them black and blue. When I told my family every time they joked to “wait until youuuuu have kids!” I was always met with shock and mild horror that I didn’t want to shoot watermelons out my vagina. I don’t think those living outside my family unit

al·le·go·ry / ˈ al ə ˌɡ ô r ē / noun noun: allegory ; plural noun: allegories a story, poem, or picture that can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a moral or political one. Today’s post comes as an allegory… my blog is ‘being watched’ so I don’t 'antagonize' anyone. I’ve given this a lot of thought….Welcome to the Green Forest! Nose in the air Papa Bear can smell him from several kilometres away… “Ma! Ma!” Mama Bear had been enjoying the fermented blueberries “she’s sleeping,” he says to himself when she doesn’t respond . Papa Bear sits in wait for the Badger to approach. Badger:    Hello there! Papa Bear nods in greeting, he’d just finished some of the mushrooms those caribou were eating before they completely lost their heads! Badger:   Hello there! He says again Papa Bear:   Yup, hi, how can I help you ? (Papa’s trying to stay focused and ignore the matrix of lights all around him); the Badger is the law in these parts Badger:   I w

I loved living in the Big City! I loved clubbing, going to concerts, drinking and dancing all night. I loved treating men like crap only to find out they seemed to enjoy it… or maybe they thought I was funny. I was super sarcastic and I knew the world was my oyster. I spent as many hours as possible with my best friend Natasha. I had a ‘ditch-able’ boyfriend for every occasion. At one point I had 4 different men I dated for different reasons. Mark was a nice guy and he liked to introduce me to his favourite restaurants, we were never intimate but I saw the potential; I was content with him providing me with weed until I found a better dealer (my office caterer, but that’s a different tale).  I dated my boss for 18 months too, but clearly that was because I was stupid. He was married with children and at that time in my life I didn’t care. I wanted to experience all that life had to offer and I wanted to be ‘bad’. I felt that I’d always followed the rules my entire life. I knew it was a

I had moved all my belongings into a storage unit my sister had arranged for me through one of her customers. I was very lucky to have the space for free. In exchange for a rebate in rent, I donated my nearly new appliances to our landlord. My sister and I slept together in the same room and bed until her ex-boyfriend moved out. He was such a douche. He seemed to refuse to acknowledge they had broken up. I had fun because I had someone to pick on and take my aggression out on… I was very sarcastic and quite the bitch in my 20s. I didn’t realize it, but my bitchy sarcasm was my wall of steel, my fortress – better to chase people away now than get screwed over; those who saw thru the façade had a chance, but not really, nobody got ‘in’ to know me. No one. I liked it like that. My long-standing opinion is that people are not to be trusted; they all just want something from you. Those who were too dumb to run or thought they saw through the façade would eventually face my brutal honesty an

Neall was not a bad person; he just wasn’t the guy for me. While we were married and our marriage was crumbling, I’m not proud of how I acted at times but in fairness, neither was he. Neall had a really good heart, he had empathy and compassion. Neall’s biggest problem was that he wasn’t motivated. Neall suffered a lot of trauma in his own childhood also. In my early 20’s, I didn’t even know I had suffered trauma so I was not able to recognize the signs in him, let alone myself. Neal grew up in Southern Ontario, he was adopted and had an older adopted sister. His parents provided a nice loving home. His mother was a TV personality in the 1970s with her own yoga TV show while his dad worked in HR at a manufacturing plant. Neall recalled feeling happy until one day his parents divorced. His father had an affair with his assistant and left his current bride, a successful and well-respected Jewish businesswoman for his Catholic assistant. Neall remembers feeling hated and like his new