Sunday, 21 September 2014

Shock to your system

Yesterday was my little brother's wedding. I hope it was a wonderful day. I stayed home to be with my sister. 

We had a great day together. All I want is for us to be close again. 

So - this may come as a shock - but I'm done. No more JW stuff. Y'all know where I stand and that if you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. I'll still write about silly boy stuff, life stuff, I'm just walking away from that. I guess it's time to move on. 

You know how I feel. I feel like they stole years of my life. That they separated me from my family that I love. But yesterday I walked into a shop waiting for my sister to show up and they had these rings and they just said "loved". I got us both one and it's true, love heals wounds. It doesn't erase the past, it doesn't undo what's been done. But love is the only answer. I'm hurting my beloved with this blog, by hating on what they love. 

I see the value in what that religion brings to them. It's not for me, but I won't discredit it anymore. I love my family, especially my brother and sister. We have each other and that means something to me. 

Sullivan out.

Saturday, 20 September 2014

Sort of Revolution

I'm very bad at being zen. I try. I go to yoga. I've read a tonne of books on the subject. One of my therapists (yes I have two, stop judging me) is also actually a spiritual teacher. I signed up for a Buddhist meditation class with my brother a few weeks ago. We have to do homework every day. Thank the Universe I'm not back at work yet, I have no idea how I'd fit it all in. 

Yet, I still worry. All the time. Halfway through my meditation class this morning, I got a panic attack and had to leave. Crying. The teacher came out and said don't worry about it. You've been through hell. Would you like a hug? The amazing kindness of strangers is almost overwhelming at times. It just made me cry more. 

Today is my little brother's wedding. He's such a good guy. Funny, smart, hard working. We have some complicated issues in the family. My sister didn't feel like she could be there and I decided to stay behind to be with her today. It's hard though, not being there. Not seeing him marry his beautiful high school sweetheart. Or as he will no doubt be doing, dancing like an idiot tonight, the way he did at my wedding, a million years ago. :)

The problem with families sometimes is that you just can't talk things out. Mick, Erin and I? We can talk. About everything and anything. We don't always agree, but we don't let that affect the love we share anymore. I know my parents love me - all three of them. I love them too. But the fact that we can't even discuss anything, ever, makes it hard to move forward. 

I know I've drawn lines in the sand. With both sides of the family, I've made a stand, a decision on where I stand on things that they don't agree with. Or would rather ignore and not speak of. I've become an unfortunate inconvenience with my absolute refusal to bury my head in the sand and take everything that gets handed out. It is probably hard for them to process, I was always the good girl. Never tried to rock the boat. 

My therapists (yes both of them) keep telling me that my problem is not standing up for myself and what I believe in. Being too much of a people pleaser. I feel that by leaving the JWs and speaking out against that organization started a sort of revolution that is spilling over into the rest of my life now. Work, family, friends. Once you've come so far, there's no going back. Not for me anyways. 

Come so far. Let me know when we get there...if we get there... 

Friday, 5 September 2014

Rainy Days and Mondays

We're having a terrific thunder and lightning storm in Toronto. There's really nothing better on a Friday night than writing a blog and watching the rain in your cozy apartment and Blue Rodeo tshirt. 

I forgot to tell y'all about going to Blue Rodeo by myself a couple of weekends ago. I love them. I was afraid of running into JWs (they all love that band for some reason) but they are my favorite so I chanced it. I kept a low profile, drank a glass of wine and had a wonderful time. And then I bought a tshirt, even though we all know I have way too many Blue Rodeo tshirts. I figure if I get to the point where I let the JWs keep me away from the things I love, they're still winning. I want to win. :)

Anyways, I'd like to reintroduce you to Donia, aka "Trashy Black Ho". Before y'all think I'm racist, she's totally okay with that nickname. She started it actually, she kept calling me "Streetwalker Barbie". Streetwalker Barbie needed a comeback. 

She is the oldest non-JW friend I have in Toronto, besides my brother of course. (Who is fabulous, yes Michael, you're fabulous.) I met her 19 years ago and even though as a JW you're not technically allowed to be friends with the rest of the world (unless you're converting them, then it's okay) we managed to work it out somehow. And stay friends all these years. 

We've gone through a million ups and downs, mommy issues, boy problems. I remember when the screensaver on her computer said: "Happiness is the remission of pain." Dramatic much? But we both were. :) 

I went through my first real heartbreak with her next door. She used to sing "Rainy Days and Mondays" to me at the office. She has a beautiful voice. I think about that when it rains as crazy as it is tonight. 

When we worked together our offices were right next door to each other and we used to just talk through the walls. The girl who worked across the hall would kill herself laughing to us. We were ridiculous and probably extremely inappropriate most of the time.

Then, she got cancer. She was exactly the same age as my uncle Ken, who I watched waste away from that fucking disease. But she beat it. It wasn't easy and there were a lot of sacrifices made on her part. But she is one of the strongest women I know, she did it and then it was over. And everyone was so happy. 

And then it came back. I'm old enough to know that second time around is never good. They gave her 6-12 months to live last August. I would visit her, see her in her hospital bed and we would make jokes about her dying. Because that's how she is - always funny, always smart, always rescillient.  

One night, we went to visit her in palliative care. My brother offered to make her seafood pasta in a few nights. It was raining and he wiped out on his motorbike on the way home. He showed up, on time, a few nights later with real dishes and cutlery and the seafood dish. He had a broken arm. But that's the kind of love she inspires with her pure soul. 

I don't think everyone will understand our humour. I've been so sick myself I haven't been able to be there for her the way I would have liked but tonight we caught up and made plans for Monday. We were talking about all the things we've been through and my wedding came up. 

Me: I was a pretty bride though right?

Her: Yah totally. I wanted to knock you down and rip your face off. 

And there you have it - Streetwalker Barbie and Trashy Black Ho stuck with each other for eternity or until something comes along that can actually kill us. We're doing pretty good beating the odds so far. 

Tonight? Hearing the news that she was cancer free? I cried as much as I cried the night she called me and said the cancer was back. But these were tears of joy, of relief, of finally feeling like the Universe I try to believe in was righting itself after all this pain. 

I love you bitch. Thanks for not dying. 

Sullivan out.