Dear readers, recently I’ve been experiencing yet more medical issues. During my research on my potential new diagnoses, I made a rather startling connection. My mind has been blown with what I’ve discovered. Today, this post may be a bit of a rant as I connect all the dots. It took me five years to make all these realizations. My entire life I was ruled by responsibility, I even accepted responsibility for things that weren’t my fault – just to keep the peace between the man who donated his sperm for my mother’s eggs and his bed-warmer. I try not to hate him or blame him and accept responsibility for my own well-being but I’m in a place in my life where I can longer ignore his role and it makes me mad. Livid, really. From the beginning of my existence, SHE told me there was “nothing wrong” with me and to stop being a hypochondriac like my grandmother. I believe, truly that neither of them really wanted to raise children – they just seemed to want a maid (her) and to not die alone (

  I haven’t written a blog post in a very long time and here I am to catch you up!  I’ve been very busy with a strong focus on therapy and healing my inner children. Having a childhood filled with so much trauma, I have several inner children that need attention, love and understanding. I struggled with this idea and concept for at least 4 years thinking it was utter bullshit. I’m finally in a place where I understand that the parts of me that were sacrificed to please others, the parts of me that weren’t permitted to exist, the parts of me that were told she wasn’t important - they all need to understand that it really had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the adults in her life. Today’s post isn’t really about my childhood. Today’s post is all about grown-up me. It’s been a tough year. I celebrated one year of no contact with Jack and I honestly feel free. I feel happier and I feel like I’m true to myself. I don’t have to pretend to be someone he wants me to be whi

  I feel calm, relaxed, carefree, and loved - much like any normal kid should feel. I only feel this way when I’m at ‘la cabine’ with my grand-parents. Grand-papa would come pick us up at the end of June in his burgundy coloured station wagon and drive the 45 minutes to the log cabin he built with my father many moons ago. My grand-maman would be waiting for us in the cabin’s small living room, which doubled as the dining room complete with wood stove that made great toast in the morning. The cabin was built in the early 1970s using logs, tin for the roof, and pink insulation. The cabin sits on a parcel of leased land for a 99-year term. The small structure contained a small workshop for my grand-father’s tools, a main area, 2 window-less bedrooms, a loft with several mattresses on the floor for when my cousins visited, a small kitchen, a tiny bathroom (illegal because he installed a septic tank for my grand-mother because she didn’t want to use the outhouse). The kitchen also contai

 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