Today has been a whirlwind but then if I reflect over my lifetime here on this planet, its always been that way to some degree with moments of complete sense of serenity and peace and moments of pure hell. for as long as I can remember. As a survivor of pretty much all kinds of foul shit, from #sexualabuse before I could walk to severe #addiction issues, to surviving #humantrafficking, #streetlife. As I reflect back, I am aware that more than half my life in the beginning was filled with no good memories, absent of kindness. A full view and experience of the underbelly of society, of below sewer level of life. Yet despite that in the last twenty years plus, I have cleaned up, attending college, graduated with honours, made a positive impact in the world, got married, got divorced and had a wonderful daughter whom I am so very proud of, who has taught me selflessness, unconditional love and she is my heart and at the core of my everything, I’ve moved cities, created a couple of shows; #BorderLineMe and #NoDickPicsPlease, told my story and what really amazes me is just how life unfolds with its twist and turns. It’s boomerangs, hurdles and smooth flowing stillness, it’s been a wild ride with intense contrast. As I write to heal, to stay healthy, to process it all, I find that I am also struck by the fragments, the at times what feels like a piece of a piece of a puzzle, you know like a broken bit of what was a corner piece perhaps. There’s a deep sadness with comes with that, there’s a loss of details, of facts and then there’s the reality of not being able to count on ones memories in any cohesive manner and wishing some memories or should I call them nightmares, things horror movies are based on is a line my daughter wrote to me a most cherished letter are made of. It’s complete opposites. I’m left questioning what was even real, it all seems sometimes so distant at times and other times the past seems so real in my present day. There’s a women here in this city who likes to stir the pot, poke the bear so to speak, she contributes to the fears most of us have experienced to whether or not we are going to be believed. Three are some transference issues that she disclosed to me when I reached out to her in her dark moment that came to light but that’s not my fault and certainly didn’t justify her cruellness. Ironically she also stood with many of us and our signs #webelievethesurvivors” when we protested, shit like this pulls me back into questioning everything. She has caused me much pain but even from her I have gained and learned, in this case I learned to take a step back though due to my diagnosis I am still struggling with letting go of her hurtful words and cruel actions as she lambasted me with in the summer past. Did any of this happen to me, yes it did. There’s a dark place that flows beneath the surface on most days though I do work at keeping it at arm’s length but the older I get the closer its seems to be on the rise, showing up totally uninvited, fucking #flashbacks. I try to find the words, sometimes I crave a large space to paint without being concerned about the mess, to let go of all holds bar and paint what I cannot express with words. I can feel the painting aching to come out, I can almost see the feeling of the space where it’ll be created though I have no preconceived knowledge of where that might be, so I free fall and here’s a radical shift, I trust the universe, not based on distance past experience but based on the present in the here and now, wow. This is truly as a result of my tribe, you, the people who take the time to reach out, to offer a comment of loving support and encouragement. I would be nowhere without you. You truly have etched a permanent seat in my heart, all of you. For every interaction I have gained and I am so grateful. So I started writing this last night, the news of the third #suicide in 4 months hit home once again. I struggle with the #stigma related to suicide and here’s my attempt to shift the definition of it all, as with suicide most instinctualy see it as an action, the act of taking one’s life, puts a lot of ownership on the person which flows over onto their family, friends and especially children. I’ve decided to see suicide as no different then cancer. The health issue is under the umbrella of #mentalhealth which is as valid as #physicalhealth. #MentalHealth is a #disease, no one asked for it, I know I certainly didn’t, some of mine is as a result of the abuse that occurred in my life and probably some of that is related to my own wiring, or perhaps passed on in the gene pool. This writing is dedicated to Michelle Fabris, my cousin Mike Gillick, Jocelyn Katz may they all rest in peace.
It is also dedicated to every #facebook person I’m connected too, for every kind word and act I get to witness as it all contributes to keeping me here, to making the path a tad more tolerable. Kindness is healing, kindness is the only way to go and to be. Funny I was recently interviewed for the Spec #WhoWhatWear and it brought me back to an incident, my first choice has always been being second-hand, recycled clothing for many reasons; one being good on the environment, less waste, and let’s face it the quality of vintage delightful. Plus sometimes you even get to know the stories behind the item you’re buying. Years ago, I bought a used backpack which the original owner shared her adventures thru the mountains of Mexico with me, that bag is now a part of the BorderLineMe show, along with the bag I bought a nifty black cap with #MeanPeopleSuck embroidered on it, how ironic that someone stole it, isn’t ironic.
Life hold on cause it can be one hell of a ride
#naptime
BorderLine Productions 