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It’s Been About A Month Since My Last Update

I am not even sure where I left you all with my last update. Things have kinda gone down the toilet lately.

I think I mentioned that i managed to get into a “introduction to Counseling” course and had worked out payment to be an exchange of yard work or something. I went to one class and thoroughly enjoyed it! Everyone was so friendly, most of them were drug and alcohol counselors, I was the only one who wasn’t a counselor already. i thought I might feel uncomfortable but everyone was so welcoming. I was the only one there who was interested in getting into working with victims of abuse and one woman came up to me and said how glad she was I was in the class because she was excited to see what I could had to the class being that I was into a different area of counseling than everyone else. Apparently the fellow teaching the course is very highly thought of in the industry and truly walks the walk and isn’t just all words. He has helped a lot of people, goes above and beyond what is required (obviously because he was willing to barter with me) Well it turns out he had a small stroke about a month prior to the course starting, he was fine the first night but the second night he was totally disoriented and couldn’t remember what we had discussed just the day before. We didn’t even get into the class and he said he didn’t think he could continue. A couple of the guys helped him get into his bedroom where he could lay down.

I volunteered to do up a phone list and emailed it to everyone and a couple of days later I got a call from the teacher saying the class was postponed indefinitely. I am concerned for his health and totally understand but I was very disappointed at the same time.

I was called into the welfare office a couple of weeks ago because they said I hadn’t submitted all my medical forms and I had, I tried calling at least 8 times and it was always a busy signal so I drove down there and told them I had brought them in. I stood there while the woman went through them all when I first dropped them off. In fact I am pretty sure it was the same woman. She insisted they weren’t there but eventually found them on the computer and read it through and told me that she didn’t think I would be approved for disability because I can walk, dress myself and feed myself. I told her I want to work. She seemed surprised. I told her I have been applying for jobs, I took the 3 weeks course required to get into the course for getting funding to go back to school. She asked me what I want to go to school for and when I told her about the blog and I want to help victims of abuse she just lit right up. She got me an appointment for the course (which is still 2 weeks away) I went down to the office anyway and they told me that it is very unlikely I will get in for Sept school start. They are short staffed and there are a lot of hoops to jump through and red tape. That was very disappointing because I have been applying for jobs but there are certain courses they all want one of which is Non-violent conflict resolution and First Aid. I have had my first aid but it has expired. 

If I don’t get disability and I am not going to school I have to live on $610 a month, which is impossible. I thought I could do it for a couple of months but any longer and I will be out on the street living in my car. 

My car insurance came up and I had an outstanding speeding ticket from a year ago that I had to pay, air care, etc and that came to over $400. I made a deal with the owner of the cabin that I would do her yard work because her and her husband are at the home in PEI until October and they reduced my payment to $400 a month, until they get back or the place sells. If the place sells before I get more money I am really up shit creek. I will end up in my car or in a boarding house and that means getting rid of Stella and my stuff. It means existing not living and I am just not prepared to lose everything again. A bedroom in a house is $400/month and that doesn’t include food. No one can live on that. 

Everything is behind, I owe for electricity, my cell phone is going to be disconnected, my house insurance payment bounced, and I have $85/month car insurance. I mean Stella goes through $50 a month in food. When you only have a $110 after paying rent, well you don’t have to be a mathematician to figure out why I am not making it.

I have sold the odd painted piece and thank God I had one wonderful soul donate $150 last month. BUT they told me that I could make up to $200 a month and it would not be deducted from my cheque so I wasn’t concerned when I filled out my report card and put the $150 down as income. They deducted it dollar for dollar off my cheque. So instead of $610 on my last cheque I got $460. So much for being honest, that is the last time.

I am going to go in and fight it but I know better than to be honest ever again. I mean it. I can not believe they did that. It really makes a person wonder why they bother, and it proves once again that a woman in an abusive relationship is going to stick it out as long as she can because she doesn’t want to starve to death and has kids to feed.

I have been depressed I have to admit. How long does a person struggle. I was determined to just go get a job, any job and to hell with school or my health but I can’t do it. 

Twice now I have had a scary thing happen and I am going to have to go to the doctor about it. I don’t know if it is stress and my heart or if it is over working my neck. Both times it has happened I was stressed out and the first time I had worked really hard the day before doing yard work. That time I got up in the morning and felt fine, sat on the couch for a few minutes, checked my email and then decided to make coffee. I reached up to get the coffee down from an upper cupboard and my right arm wouldn’t move. I had to lift it with my left arm and then I couldn’t grasp the coffee container. When I let my arm go it just dropped to my side like dead weight. I talked to myself and said, “What the hell.” and then realized my face felt funny. I ran in the bathroom thinking maybe I had a stroke in the middle of the night but my face was ok. I tried to just relax and do some deep breathing because I was getting very anxious. After about 1/2 hour my arm was fine and it has been fine ever since.

Then yesterday I was doing the yard work at my  landlords and had been working quite hard in the yard, their place is shaded and I waited until evening so it was cooler but it was still quite hot to work. I had been pulling weeds and was sweeping the driveway when all of a sudden the broom wasn’t sweeping. It was kinda just flopping around. I was confused, I looked at the broom trying to figure out what was wrong with it and then I realized I was only hanging onto it with my left hand. My right hand was hanging dead at my side. I tried to lift it and had no control over it. I had thought I had both hands on the broom. I could feel my hand hitting my leg on my  leg but I could not feel my hand at all. 

I got really freaked out again and had to force myself to not panic. I went and sat down for about 1/2 hour and then it was ok again. I felt weak in the legs but I am not sure if that was just because I was panicked.

It could be stress causing it, or my neck, I was told 20 years ago that I was lucky to not be in a wheelchair and when my neck is out my arms will go numb but my neck doesn’t feel out, I have no pain and usually if my neck is out I can’t sleep for the pain. I have gotten pretty good at knowing exactly what I can and can’t do with regards to my neck so have been pain free for quite a few years. But I have been under a lot of stress over money, the house being for sale, James’s blog, (which I really try to ignore but it is so wrong and unfair of him it burns my butt to not do something about it) . I have thought that I was dealing with everything really well, just believing that things will work out but I keep getting deeper and deeper and just don’t see how I am going to ever dig my way out.

On a brighter note James’s step dad called me again a few nights ago to see how I am doing. I really appreciate how he has kept in touch with me. I never call him, its James’s family and I don’t want anyone to think I am calling to get info on him. Mind you ever since James and I first split up I told his step dad that I didn’t want to hear anything about James because it hurt too much and his step dad has never mentioned his name again. I really appreciate that he respected my request and still calls just to see how I am doing. 

I still love the lake and Stella is getting bigger by the day and such a blessing, everyone loves her to pieces. I wish my camera was working, I would love to post some pics of her. She loves the water but still has not tried to swim so I was throwing the ball in the water farther and farther out until it was over her head thinking she would start to swim without really thinking about it. Well the little bugger, I am watching her and yep, she jumped in and was over her head and instead of swimming she went under, I was just getting up  to go rescue her because I thought,” My God I thought all dogs could swim!!” when I notice realized what she was doing. When she realized she was in over her head she dove down to the bottom and walked out with the ball in her mouth.!! She was completely submersed, not even her tail sticking out of the water! She got on shore and shook off and never missed a beat, brought me the ball to throw it again.

Well, that is it for what is going on in my corner of the world. If anyone can help out with any kind of donation I would be forever grateful, I hate to ask, but I am at the end of my rope.

Thanks you to all who have donated throughout the past year or so, it seems something comes through right when I need it the most, you are angels and to those who can’t afford it I totally understand, we are all struggling and I don’t want anyone to feel pressured.

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Getting Back to Where It All Begins – Why Advocacy is So Important

Carrie Reimer:

All I can say is Bravo! everyone person on this earth needs to read this.

Originally posted on Picking Up the Pieces:

“What would make you get involved with someone so horrible? How could you not see what they really were? Did it have to get so dangerous for you to see what kind of person they are? I don’t understand.”

Well, then, allow me to help you get the clarification you seek. Oblige me, and grant me ample time to speak, and I will use my life as an example to show how these things come to be. There is no mystery. There is no secret. There is no code to decipher. What is there, however, is a story of deception, trickery, and manipulation stemming from a pernicious heart.

Maybe you’re thinking, “I don’t know what that word means. Wasn’t there another word she could use so everyone would understand?”

Pernicious, however, is the perfect word to describe a person priming another to be abused, and I would never use something…

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The Difference Between Having Your Heart Broken and Having Your Soul Crushed

girlfriend mad I have always thought cheating was cheating, how can there be a good cheater and a bad cheater? they all break your heart, they all break a vow, they all disrespect you. James introduced me to so many grey areas, opened my eyes to so many new experiences that I had no idea existed.  In a normal marriage there can be infidelity  for various reasons, it is never right but shit happens, lets face it. A person can not say “they would never do it” if they haven’t walked in the other person’s shoes. I don’t think I ever would have an affair because I just can’t lie, it would be written all over my face, I would have to spill my guts. Whenever I had the feeling I was tempted to cheat I ended the relationship because to me, if I was looking elsewhere I was not in love with my partner any more. Things had to be pretty bad for a long time before I looked elsewhere. I had to have tried everything I could to save the relationship before I gave up on it. To me if the guy screwed around it meant he didn’t love me and didn’t want to be with me, because if he did he would not take the chance of losing me by screwing around.  That said, with my first marriage that was not the way it was and here is why.

I fell in love fast and furious with my first husband, or we fell in love quickly. I was young, barely 23 when I met him and 6 weeks later I moved to the other side of the country to be with him. I was daring, always have been the type of person to jump in with both feet and not even test the waters. I have always thought “Nothing is engraved in stone, if it doesn’t work out, you change your mind, at least you never regret not doing it, wondering what if.”
I was working as a bank teller near the army base in Chilliwack and he was a French Canadian soldier who spoke broken English and chatted me up every time he was in the bank. He was a cutie pie, beautiful blue eyes, that changed color with his moods and twinkled when he was happy (Kris has eyes like his father) and a devilish grin. He was nothing like any of the men I had dated before. He had a broken nose, tattoos every where, was a bar room brawler a sexy dancer, and as it turned out the most attentive lover I ever had before or since. My family loved him immediately and he loved them, V was full of love, he had the sweetest way about him, he was a combination of  “never walk away from a fight” and “let me massage your feet” and “dirty dancing long before the movie came out”. (I was afraid to dance with him in my small hometown for fear my parents would hear about it but once we were back east I let my hair down) I fell in love with him every time we danced.
When we met, I was fresh (like one week) out of a 2 year dating relationship, and two weeks later he was transferred to Borden Ontario, he said, “If I thought you would come with me, I would ask you.” I said, “If you asked I might come.”
So I applied for a transfer through the bank and went on two weeks vacation with him driving across Canada. I got back from my vacation and walked into the branch Monday morning to be told I started the next Monday in Borden. OMG!!  I called V and asked if he still wanted me to come and he said yes and hopped on a plane to come help me sell all my furniture, load up my Honda Civic and drive across Canada for the second time in 3 weeks.
So I sold every thing I owned and moved across the country with a man I had known not even 2 months.
I was such a princess LOL. James always said I was too demanding, had high expectations, and I was so far from demanding. With V I admit I was demanding! I had my boundaries and I stuck to them (within reason) but then V was not a narcissist. I worked full-time and I did not cook on Fridays, I didn’t care what we ate but it was up to him to supply supper. We went out for expensive fine dining A LOT!, I had expensive clothes. I had expectations of flowers, jewelry, and cards, for special occasions and God help him if he forgot our anniversary! But he never did, I was spoiled by V compared to how James treated me.
lack of respectBut then nothing about being with a narcissist is anything you can call “normal”, there was no such thing as getting angry and him doing what you asked. I knew and know of couples where, if they are entertaining the woman will tell the husband she needs him to help her get ready and he will stay home and help. He may bitch to his buddies about having to get home to help the “ball and chain” but he gets home because life won’t be worth living if he doesn’t. With an N, telling him you need his help results in him not even being there, not before, not during and not after and not answering his phone either.
V and I argued a fair amount because he was a free spirit and I was regimented and a perfectionist. I never wanted to go for a picnic because there was house work to do. I was a pain in the ass I admit it. I also had a lot of hang ups from my childhood. ( I took extensive counseling after we split to deal with my baggage because I knew I had some major issues, anorexic was one, obsessive cleaning another are just two)
We had our own friends and would go out separately sometimes, I had “lounge type friends”, business people, lawyers, accountants, bankers, and he had “bar room brawling buddies”. Our parties were always very interesting rotflmao
V was a ladies man also, he loved women, and he had a hard time turning them down and believe me the women threw themselves at him, he was such a sexy dancer and really sweet. He would go out with his buddies and come home late, I would be laying in bed not able to sleep but would pretend I was asleep when he got home because I knew he would have picked someone up at the bar. (this was pre AIDs) I remember once him standing at the door to the bedroom and saying, “I really do love you.” and he went and slept on the couch.
I could not handle him screwing around and he could not stop. He told me once that he didn’t know why, but he was afraid that he might miss the best piece of tail he ever had if he passed up a woman. It is the strangest situation because I knew he loved me. He never made me feel inferior, he never blamed me, he always told me how beautiful I was and how much he loved my body. We had great sex, he just could not be faithful. There was a lot more to it that I won’t go into here because I have written posts about it a couple of years ago.  Here and  Here and here and here
I was heart-broken when we split and we carried a torch for each other for years. He asked me to try again about 3 years after we split. He brought over a Phil Collins tape and put it on
Rain Down On Me started to play and we waltzed in the kitchen, both crying. He held me for a long time when the song ended, finally I looked him in the eye and asked,”Can you promise to be faithful.” and he said, “No.”
We tried again after my 2nd marriage broke up and he had quit drinking (on my birthday), we dated a bit but there was so much water under the bridge and it just didn’t work out.
But I never hated him and he never hated me, I never once felt less a woman, or less attractive, or less anything. I listened to that song just now and cried not because I am sorry we split but because it was a tender moment where we were both vulnerable.
We had fights, he wasn’t a good dad to Kris when Kris was little, but even when we fought neither one of us attacked the other verbally or otherwise; we were respectful, – frustrated, angry. hurt … yes.. but never hate filled, vindictive, or destructive. We both cried, were in pain, took time to heal, neither one of us took pleasure in the other’s pain. We talked about each other and blamed each other, like divorcing couples will do and probably a lot of what we complained about was very valid. He remained close to my family, we were able to attend school functions, we could talk about our child, I never spoke poorly of Kris’s father to him.
ashley madison

Call me naive, call me stupid, but for almost the whole 10 years I was with James I thought Ashley Madison was like Victoria Secret. I always saw it in History on the computer and never had a clue it was for men in relationships to hook up with women for casual sex, well anything porn, dating sites etc

But never ever did either of us plot to destroy the other one or completely blame the other for our mistakes.

That is what is so painful and devastating about breaking up with the narcissist. When it ends there is no remembrance of the love shared, he instantly hates you and loves someone else. You are expected to carry all the fault for the relationship failing. His hatred for you is palatable. I have always stayed friends with my ex’s and expected the same with James. How can two people who had such a connection, such passion just stop? I thought we would break up, slowly extract ourselves from each other, the phone calls would get less and eventually we would both start dating again (deep down I thought we would somehow get back together like we always did). I never expected the hatred, the wanting to destroy me, the venomous bile that would spew from his mouth, the total disregard for anything good I ever did or denial of any love ever. Until James I thought I had hurt as badly as a person could hurt but I now know there is a level of pain that transcends any earthly normal pain. You would think after all he has done to me I would be able to hate him with the same hatred as he has shown me but you know? I don’t have it in me, I am not capable of that kind of hatred, that blackness, it makes me afraid to know there are people out there who can hate like that, it makes me believe there is a devil. It is amazing to me that a man can cheat on a woman and not make her feel she is less a woman; I find it even more difficult to believe a man can cheat, lie, abuse and then blame for her own pain. That is the difference between a broken heart and soul crushing.

Self-Reflection in a Funhouse Mirror

Carrie Reimer:

Excellent post that demonstrates what I have been saying about the “lies we were told about our selves in the past”

Originally posted on Lessons From the End of a Marriage:

There was a fascinating experiment many years ago about attractiveness and pair-bonding. In this study, a number from 1-10 was randomly selected and pasted to each subject’s forehead; the subjects were unaware of their own number. The random number represented the person’s attractiveness as a mate. A couple dozen subjects were then gathered in a room and given the directions to pair with the most attractive (according the number on the forehead) mate they could land.

Even though the subjects never knew their own number, they ended up “mating” with a subject with a similar number. They were calculating their own attractiveness by which numbers rejected them and which were interested.

But that’s not the part that really interested me. When I saw the videos of this study, I observed another, more nuanced behavior. There were some subjects who would be considered fours, threes, or even twos on a real-world…

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