Tag Archives: Being a Single Woman

Life as a single woman

The Making Of A Victim

I find it rather ironic that society blames the victim of her own abuse when it is society that creates the victim to begin with. 

women place

I am going to be guilty of generalizations in this post, I do know that what I am about to say is not 100% across the board the way all girls are raised, what I am saying is generally this is how are girls are raised. I also realize that men are victims of narcissists and female narcissists cause just as much pain and destruction as their male counterparts, BUT there are many more female victims than male. Recent studies show that in Canada a woman dies at the hands of her significant other every 6 days, the leading cause of death in women is domestic homicide, passing cancer and car accidents, every night 3300 women seek out the safety of a woman’s shelter and 200 women are turned away because there isn’t room. 

They say that 4% of the world population are psychopaths, that is only the one’s diagnosed, probably because they did murder someone and are in jail. Psychopath’s do not seek out therapy or admit they have a problem because that would ruin their fun, they don’t want to stop hurting and manipulating people, that is how they feed their sick ego and most of them are highly intelligent and are able to avoid detection their whole life, going from victim to victim leaving a trail of destruction behind them.

What is enabling them to do this? How can such an plague on society continue and most people are totally ignorant it exists and the rest of the world ignores it or blames the victim? There MUST be something wrong with the way society functions, there must be something terribly flawed in the way people think for the leading cause of death in women is allowed to grow and feed off of itself unchecked. 

We teach our children about washing their hands, how to handle chicken so you don’t poison yourself, wear a helmet when you ride a bike, don’t smoke, don’t drink and drive, don’t run with scissors in your hand, wear your life jacket, you get searched at airports for weapons, and yet we don’t teach our youth about narcissists, we don’t give our children the weapons they need to detect and defend themselves from this toxic scourge on society – knowledge and self respect.

Society really needs to look at why women in abusive relationship are confused about whether they are being abused or not. It is alarming to me that 90% of women in abusive relationships don’t know they are being abused!! that figure is a guesstimation on my part but if you look back on the comments of women who come in here you will find most women’s first comments are something like, “Thank God I am not crazy!”, “Finally, I know what was happening to me”, “I thought I was alone”.

women and men

Could it be that we give our girls mixed messages their whole life, at home, at school, on tv, in video games, in movies, fashion, politics, sports? We give young people the mixed messages that a woman is the “fairer” sex, they are supposed to be “ladylike”, nurturing, giving, forgiving, martyrs, and yet tell them they can be anything they want to be, can do it on their own, succeed in a “man’s world” but deny them the tools to accomplish it. We criticize women for the exact traits we expect men to possess in order to succeed. As this video shows so well, mainstream media portray women as objects to be owned and abused, powerless, reliant on their beauty to get by.

We teach our boys teamwork through sports etc, if you watch guys in the bar they are slapping each other on the back, they help each other get the girl, most guys will not put the make on his buddy’s woman. If a guy approaches a woman in a bar and she tells him she is not interested he won’t back off, he won’t take no for an answer and will think he just has to wear her down, buy her another drink, compliment her a bit more, and he will eventually get the prize (get her into bed). But if the woman’s boyfriend walks up the guy will apologize all over himself for hitting on the guys woman. Most men have loyalty to their gender. It isn’t called the “Old Boy’s Club” for nothing.

On the other hand women will walk right over top of a girlfriend in her stiletto heels to get to the man. A man acts interested and the girl forgets she has friends with her, if a guy compliments her, tells her she is better than his girlfriend she will soak up the flattery, and feel superior to the other woman, even if secretly. Why? Because we teach our girls that they are in competition against each other for the prize (the man because they are nothing without a man) through beauty contests, advertisements, and TV shows.

Identical traits in women and men are described in totally opposite terms.

Men who are called successful are go getters, strong, intelligent, respected, hard working

Women with the same traits are pushy, overbearing, show offs, rude, abrasive, loud, is neglecting her duties

 

How can we expect women to stand up and say, “I demand respect” when we don’t show her women doing that?

Men demand respect,and make no apologies for doing so, it is expected of them

Women ASK for respect. Please don’t screw around on me, please be honest with me, please care about my feelings. Sorry I snooped and caught you cheating, I am sorry I got angry and raised my voice, If only I could say it the right way he would understand. 

We should not be surprised women take a subservient role and don’t demand respect when we don’t teach them it is acceptable to demand respect and equality. 

I think society, women mostly,

need to teach by example and if they have been abused they need to stand strong and united, break the silence and shame that surrounds the victim’s of abuse and shame the abusers. The strongest tool the narcissist has to destroy his victim is silence. Silence is the enabler, the lie he hides behind, the shaming of the victim, it gives society the right to look the other way. 

Exposing the abuse forces society to acknowledge the problem and that is the first step to stopping it.

 

 

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Thankful For The Memories

I used to love all of the traditional holidays, and as much as I love Christmas and the decorations I think my favorite holiday has always been Thanksgiving. It was my favorite because you got the big turkey dinner, the family get-together and none of the commercialized gift crap.

I started a tradition at my Thanksgiving table that as we ate we would go around the table and everyone had to say what they were thankful for. It didn’t matter what had gone on in someone’s life they were still expected to come up with some thing.

Years ago before Kris was born Victor, my 1st husband had lost his brother in a tragic fishing accident. They had been fishing and drinking out on the lake in early spring so the water was extremely cold. The boat flipped, there were three of them and only two life jackets. Victor was going to swim for help, he was the most physically fit. Don was a big guy, couldn’t swim and was panicking so they got him in a lift vest first. Victor’s brother, Micheal,  was wirey and probably weighed 75 – 100 lbs less than Victor and had the other life jacket on. They decided Victor should stay with Don because he was stronger and could keep Don from drowning and Micheal would swim to shore for help.

Michel and he argued about the life jacket, Victor wanted Michel to wear it and Micheal wanted Victor to wear it. Micheal agreed to keep it on but he swam a ways and then turned and threw it back to Victor.

They waited and waited; it wasn’t that far to shore; but it was dusk and they couldn’t see if Micheal made it. Finally after calling out and not getting a reply Victor left Don and swam to shore. He ran down the road calling for Micheal, nothing. Then a truck came by and they hadn’t seen any one.

They got Don out of the lake, but they had to drag the lake the next morning and found Micheal, he had drowned only a few yards from shore; they figured he had succumbed to the cold. Victor had a horrible time dealing with his brother’s death and at the reception we had at our house after the funeral he ran off down the street so consumed with grief I imagine he was trying to out run it.

I went to go after him and my older brother John (a weight trainer, who was solid muscle) stopped me and said he’d go. A while later I saw the most heart wrenching scene I have ever seen; coming across the front lawn was my brother with tears running down his face packing Victor in his arms like a baby. He packed him into the bedroom and tucked him into bed.

That Thanksgiving my mom was cooking the Turkey and she thought it would be too painful for Victor to say what he was grateful for so she didn’t do it. When we got home Victor said,”We didn’t say what we were thankful for this year” I told him my mom didn’t think we should because it would be too hard on him. He said,”But I’ve been thinking about what I was going to say for weeks.” I told him to phone my mom and tell her.” So he did. Micheal loved the thankfulness thing and would have been proud of his brother.

Another favorite Thanksgiving was while I was living at Cultus Lake. It was a fall similar to this year, very warm sunny days and brisk cold nights. The salmon were spawning, the crowds of summer had left until next year, the lake was like glass and the full time residents were out walking enjoying having their lake back. I wasn’t going to do a big dinner, my mom and step dad were on vacation, my cousin had plans, it was just Kris and I and I was quite looking forward to not having a house full. Then my brother called and asked if he could bring a date for Thanksgiving dinner.

Me: Oh! uh! sure! See you tomorrow, whenever you get here will be fine.

I jumped in the car and ripped down the hill to buy a turkey. There was no time to thaw a turkey so I had to spend the extra money and buy a fresh one. It was bar none THE best Thanksgiving dinner I have ever eaten or cooked. I kept it simple, Brussels Sprouts in a cream sauce, home made stuffing, no sausage, or nuts; just good old fashioned bread stuffing with fresh herbs from my garden. mashed potatoes, sweet potato broiled with brown sugar glaze, corn, and my favorite casserole of broccoli, cauliflower and Durkee onions. I had everything prepared the night before so it was just a matter of popping things in the oven.

I put the bird in the oven and walked to the lake, stopping to have a chat with my girlfriend Tina on the way. She joined me for a glass of wine on the dock. It was such a beautiful day, so warm I decided to take a dip in the lake with my clothes on,and was just going up to the house looking like a drowned rat when my brother pulled up with his “flavor of the week”, a gorgeous model. I got changed and we went for a long walk, played in the playground.

My brother pushed me on the merry go round until I couldn’t walk and thought I was going to be sick, then we wandered home. I had no idea how long to cook a fresh turkey but before we even opened the door we could smell its deliciousness. Dinner was flawless and we ate until we had to undo our pants moaning and groaning asking each other,”Why do I always do this?” They stayed the night and I sent home leftovers for both of them. It was a glorious day.

This year I am thankful I have memories like that; so many wonderful memories.

Even the last year JC and I were together; he had told me he wanted me to move out, his sister was still staying with us and his mom had given us a turkey. The bird wouldn’t fit in our tiny oven so I decided to cook it on the barbeque. As always I made my own stuffing and this time I kept dinner really simple but it was so tasty. I wrote JC and his sister each a letter saying what about them I was thankful for. It was a very nice dinner, bitter sweet because it was like the last supper but we had good conversation even though JC had to say it was nice to finally get a decent meal. I went to bed alone.

In the morning there was a letter from JC on the table for me and he had shoved one under the door of his sisters bedroom. They were nice letters; too bad he didn’t mean what he wrote. Mine was blank on the first 1/2 and he started by saying,”I have no idea what I was supposed to write above.” Then he said he needed to change his attitude and promised he was going to change, things were going to change……for the better. Two weeks later he made us miss his nieces wedding.

Ah well. I am thankful I no longer hold false hope that he will change. I recently heard he has not changed at all. I’m not surprised but it is little consolation.

I am thankful I have healed as much as I have and I actually go days without crying.

I am thankful for everyone who visits my blog, them sharing their stories has helped me more than I ever thought it would and more than they could know.

I am amazed and thankful that I have had almost 43,000 hits and almost 200 followers. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would reach that many people.

Every time I check messages and there is one that says “thank god I found this site” or “You literally saved my life” I am thankful I started the blog and I am accomplishing what I set out to do.

I am thankful my son is working and happy, although I miss him horribly.

I am thankful he messaged me yesterday and said, “Everything is going to be ok. I love you” .
I messaged back. “Why do you say that!? Are you ok?? I love you too Honey”.
His reply: Lol I was being supportive; I know you’ve had a tough couple of years.
Me: Oh! Thank you but stop it! you had me worried.

I am thankful that my puppies love me.

I am thankful that I am not sleeping in my truck.

I am thankful I have hope for a better future because last year I didn’t have any hope. And without hope life isn’t worth living.

I am thankful I laugh regularly now.

I will be thankful when this weekend is over and I don’t feel so lonely.

     HAPPY THANKSGIVING!! to my friends all over the world. Tell me what you are thankful for this year or share a Thanksgiving memory.

Letting It Be

One of the things I learned through the 10 years I was with JC was that some times you have to let things play out. I used to make things happen, but there was no way you made JC do anything. Plus for the most part while we were together we were leaving it in God’s hands, we prayed alot and I drew alot of peace and strength from that. Since JC, I haven’t gotten the same sense of being at peace when I pray. Before I met JC I wasn’t a “nonbeleiver” but after I met him and his mother my belief grew very strong, and it has just been gone since things turned bad the last time we were together. You csn’t laugh at me but I actually thought God had brought us together and whenever we were about to break up my truck woid break down or he would get injured and circumstances (God) brought us back together. Naive eh? It took me 9 years to believe anyone could purposely sabotage someone’s vehicle or purposely injure themselves. I was always waiting for him, to go to the store, to go to Christmas dinner, to take me to emergency, you msme it I waited. When day after painful day I waited for my truck to be fixed I learned patience and I learned to wait,  it was out of my control; I had to let it go.

Yesterday I woke up and needed smokes so immediately got up and took a sleepy eyed Laila for a walk to the store. It was peaceful, the sun just coming up, me in my pj’s, macassins, sweatshirt and no contact lens in. Au natural! Poor neighbours!! I went in (couldn’t tell you who was in the store but it was crowded ) and the smell of bacon and eggs made my stomach growl. I got a cup of coffee and the newspaper and made some small talk with the little Chinese lady that consisted of alot of smiling, hand gestures and head nodding, then headed home.

I wasn’t looking forward to working and had $40 and 1/2 a tank of gas so didn’t feel panicked about making money so I sipped my coffee, ate the rest of an apple pie and read the paper front to back. I didn’t get out of the house until after noon with a “come what may attitude”.

I have been really plagued with indecision about what I should be doing with my life, whether I should give up on scrap; I am just not able to do the job the way I like. But I don’t know what else to do; work at Tim Horton’s or WalMart for $10 an hour part time? But yesterday I decided to let it go. My first pick up was one of my favorite customers, Symons Tire, I love those guys; and then I dropped my weedeater at another customers, Prospect Equipment and once again enjoyed some easy banter. From there I zipped out to a new customer I picked up last week, the distribution centre for MTF stores. They had 3 pallet jacks to be picked up. I was very proud of myself that I got one on the truck all by myself. It took a bit of doing and I was laughing out loud by myself as I struggled with the damn thing; but with a chain, a load binder and using my sides as a ramp I got the job done and it was time to head to the scrap yard. When I got back to Abbotsford I drove past Home Depot (also a customer) and saw they had some scrap out. I was loading it when a couple of guys yelled out loud”Hey! Lady Witha Truck, how are you doing today?” one of the guys was hanging out the window but I didn’t recognize him. I waved anyway and yelled back,”Great thanks”. I went back to loading and then heard a voice say,” It is you! I saw the pink sign on the truck door and thought it must be you”. I turned and saw a homeless guy I’ve talked to many times in the past, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten his name but I greeted him with as much enthusiasm as he had greeted me. He asked where my big truck and the crane went. I told him I had to get rid of it. He said,”wow, that’s too bad, you were really a force to be reckoned with, like you were my , well, you were like my hero. You were really doing it, better than the guys.”

Me: Shit happens you know?

Guy: Yeah, don’t I know that!.
Guy: I am so happy I ran into you, I’ve wondered where you were. Hey I have something I want to give you, you’re gonna be so excited when you see it and if you don’t mind I’d be honored if you take it. He pulled the lid off a rubber maid container he has strapped to a small trailer he pulls behind his bicycle.

Me: That’s a nice set up you have there.

Guy: Yeah its everything I own, a down sleeping bag and another one that I use as a mattress, a change of clothes, that’s about it.

Me: you’ve got it very neat and it stays dry and it looks good. The guy proudly pulled the lid with a bit of a flourish: Now you can see inside.

Inside the container his sleeping bag was neatly rolled up, his clothes folded and he pulled everything out to get a towel from the bottom. Wrapped in the towel was a pair of wire cutters he hands to me: They have a life time warranty at Canadian Tire. He says.

Me: wow! That’s super, I can always use wire cutters. Would you be offended if I gave you $5 for them?

Guy: I didn’t expect anything for them but if you want.

We talked for awhile about scrap prices, where he sleeps at night and I asked him if the cops leave him alone and he said yeah except to wake him up to make sure he isn’t dead.

Me: You know…..if it weren’t for the generosity of a friend who lets me live in his trailer I’d be sleeping in the bushes right along side you.

Guy with a wink: I wouldn’t mind and he giggled nervously and I just wanted to give him a hug.

Me: I had better get going.

Guy as he extends his hand: I sure am glad I ran into you!! You are a really special lady you know.

I shook his hand and thanked him.

Me: you take good care now ok? And we waved goodbye. I got to the scrap yard and as I went over the scale I hear, “You’re breaking the scale!!!” and turn to see a nice looking guy who haul scrap and we laughed. They called him back into the office and I yelled,” Your in trouble now”.

As I back up to the scrap pile to unload the owner Carlo gives me a wave and walks over to the truck: Hey Carrie, how are you today?

Me: Great! And you? Carlo looks tired and is covered in dirt but he flashes me a big smile of perfect  white teeth that seem brighter because he is so dirty: busy day but I’m good.

I unload and go over to the nonferrous section. I am unloading my nonferrous and hear,”Hey Lady Witha truck!” and look up to see another fellow scrap hauler and give him a wave. As I walk into the office another one of the regulars, an older guy I see there often greets me with: Hey smilie, you staying out of trouble?

Me: Of course! I’m too old to get in trouble.
Him with a snort: Too old.
Me as I pushed past him: excuuuuuse me, coming through. And everyone in the office laughed.I got $120 and it wasn’t even 4 pm yet. I took the dogs for a much needed pee and walk and then went to Shoppers drug Mart for some face cleanser. When the cashier rang up my order she asked if I wanted to donate to their cause. I asked what the cause was and she replied 100% of what they collect goes to help women who have been in abusive relationships. I told her to add $5 to my bill. She was squealing with excitement! “You get to sign a butterfly!” she explained $1 you get a leaf, $5 a butterfly and an acorn with $10 and she’s only had people donate $1 so far. I had a laugh and told her I was in an abusive relationship and we discussed how emotional abuse is much harder to heal from than physical abuse. She is young but very mature and I tell her about my blog. From there I go to the grocery store, there’s a guy a guy playing the guitar, he’s pretty good, has a raspy voice and is singing a country song that got me feeling like a dance. Just as I get to the door a guy is walking out, I don’t recognize him but he says, “Your trucks keep getting smaller Lady Witha Truck.” Me: ALOT smaller! And laugh.

I grabbed a few groceries, took the dogs for a walk stopping half a dozen times to let people pet them. Laila performs and gives high 5’s right on cue. A lady leans out as she drives past, “Hey are those Shar-pies? They’re beautiful.

Me: Dad and daughter” thanks yes they are!

We get back in the truck and as I drive past the guitar player I feel I should be giving him something but I’m heading home and don’t want to stop. I get to the first intersection and turn around. I pull up, stop the truck and throw $3 in his guitar case as he sings “You gotta know when to hold them. Know when to fold them. Know when to walk away and know when to run.” I smiled at him and said,” Have a good night”.

I think I got my answer today

http://www.cptryon.org/prayer/special/serenity.html

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change
Change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.

Yesterday I felt I was exactly where I am supposed to be at this moment in time and I was at peace. One day at a time.

Love to you all.

Heaven on Earth

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth.
One is nearer to God in a garden
Than any place else on earth.

Dorothy Francis Gurney

The above is an exert from a poem by Dorothy Francis Gurney; I used to have a wooden plaque hanging in my garden with that verse on it.

Through the worst times of my life I have found comfort in my garden. When JC and I were at the resort I spent hours tending my garden, crying, praying for answers, praying for strength, praying for my son and my brother, praying to be given one more chance to save my boy, praying for serenity, and sometimes cursing God for giving me too much to handle.

I always came away from my garden feeling calmer, stronger; it was my refuge. It has been for most of my life. When I lived at the lake before I even met JC I would be out there with a flashlight and a glass of wine tending my garden. It seemed the harder the time I was going through the more beautiful my gardens were. Every year I dug up more sod for more flowers. The little English lady that lived across the street and could barely walk made her way across the road slowly with her walker and came up to where I was pulling weeds and she said, ” I want to thank you for your lovely gardens. I look out my window and your gardens take me back to my childhood and the lovely English gardens. You have a loving touch; I’ve watched you. I just wanted you to know you have given this old lady much pleasure with your gardens.” and she shuffled back to her house. I’ll never forget it and of course I cried.

When we were at the resort I couldn’t afford plants but all the neighbour brought over plants and bulbs as they thinned out their gardens, one brought over a filing box with tons of different seeds for me to pick from. It was a tough year emotionally, like I said, I did alot of praying. It was the most beautiful garden I’ve ever had.

Gardening is so community minded, it brings people together, gives them something to talk about. A person can be talking by and feel free to say, “Your garden is lovely”. Or gardeners are always so willing to share plants, advice, and ask questions. Somehow a garden removes fences, class distinction, age, and even gender, gardeners are all on the same team.

I missed my gardens this year, I planted gardens last year and got compliments but I didn’t take the time to enjoy them because I was on borrowed time there and was trying to work as much as possible. This year I did plant some, but lack of water took its toll.

I pray that someday I have a tiny place, nothing fancy, I’m easy to please. 400 sq ft would do me just fine, with a fireplace (there is nothing like coming home from a long walk on a brisk fall day and the house is toasty warm from a crackling fire) There are few things more rewarding than getting up in the morning to a cold house and finding a few red embers still in the wood stove because all that’s necessary is to pull ghetto damper and throw on a few dry pieces of wood and in minutes the house is warm again.
I want a kitchen big enough that I can cook a pot of soup or chilli or maybe a pot roast and have a few friends over to share my fire and a bottle of wine.  lots of windows to let the sun shine in and hang crystals in. And a covered porch to hang wind chimes and a wooden rocking chair so I can sit out there even when it rains. One wall of book shelves for all those books I keep moving with me and some day want to read, but they look good until then. 🙂 I love books.

A place I can paint. A freezer I can fill with baking at Christmas and maybe even some cabbage rolls and tourtierre. A bath tub I can fill with bubble bath and keep adding hot water to until I am pink and wrinkly.

And a tiny yard trimmed with gardens.

And never have to move; just grow old there, Grandma’s house. Where my son and grand daughter can come to visit and know there are cookies in the cookie jar and my son will go to the freezer and grab some frozen cookies and I can give him shit for eating them before Christmas.

That is what I pray for. Not much, nothing fancy; not a knight in shining armor to save me, no trips around the world. Just a little bit of heaven on earth. The sun for pardon, the bbirds song for mirth.

What for you pray for?

Knowing When To Fold Them

There is an old Kenny Rogers song that goes something like this:

“You gotta know when to hold ’em
know when to fold them
know when to walk away
and know when to run
Don’t count your blessings
while you’re sittin’ at the table
there’ll be time enough for countin’
when the dealin’ done.”

My apologies if I didn’t get it exactly right; its been alot of years since I heard that song but it has been playing in my head lately.

Hal really pissed me off the other day and I felt helpless to do anything about it. I hate, I mean really hate, being dependent on anyone, so really did not want to accept more money from Jim to get home that night.

It burns my butt to not be totally self sufficient and I can hear JC’s voice ringing in my ears,”See?! I told you you couldn’t make it on your own, I told you someday you’d realize all I did for you”.
But he was wrong, I see all the things he did to me not what he did for me.

When Hal started accusing me of avoiding him, demanding to know how much I was getting for the truck, and talking over me when I was talking and then getting angry with me for not shutting up and saying I was talking over him. I found myself getting frustrated because he was twisting my words and refusing to understand what I was saying. Then it hit me; I don’t have to put up with this any more from anyone, ever again. I know what is fair, I know what is right, and I know when I am being played for a sucker.

I was frustrated, crying and angry but I took control of the situation.  I know he is bad mouthing me and you know what? I really don’t give a shit, I don’t have time for that kind of highschool bullshit. Yeah he’s got $350 of my hard earned money and I got the “shaft” (excuse the pun I couldn’t resist) Like I said to Hal that night, “If I wanted to get screwed over I would have called JC.  I don’t need to go looking for assholes. You knew the position I was in financially and you took advantage of it. I am done with you. You have nothing  to say that I want to hear and I have nothing I want to say to you.” Sure I sat in a parking lot in Langley crying my eyes out, sobbing to the dogs about how unfair life is and asking them ,”what do I do now?”

Then I saw the dumpster behind me and thought, “Nothing like digging in a dumpster to take a girl’s mind off her troubles.” I got a really nice vase, a tall one, you know they’re about 2 & 1/2 feet tall? the kind that sits on the floor with tall grasses in it. It has a $60 price tag on it and I can’t find a thing wrong with it. I also found the cutest Halloween decoration, a Styrofoam pumpkin head with a top hat that just needs a bit of glue, priced at $25. Three nice sweat shirts, 3 cardigans; a white one, blue one and a black one and they all fit me. A few blouses and a dress and jacket in an oriental design I haven’t tried on yet. I also got some really nice smelling vanilla hand soap in a pretty clear glass pump dispenser that I gave to my girl friend and she loves,  she also picked out a glass flower ornament that she liked.

When Jim called to say he was in Langley I was already asleep with my head on Laila, one good thing about really bad times; you know a night sleeping in the truck isn’t going to kill you. The worst thing that happens is you don’t have a toothbrush in the morning, your contacts are stuck to your eyes because you slept with them in and you kinda look like a raccoon because your mascara is smudged.

Sure I fell into a depression the next day and wasted most of the day feeling sorry for myself and when every one told me I should have called the cops and when the guy who wanted to buy it offered me $400 and said he had a tow truck waiting to pick it up I told everyone, “I can’t talk about it right now, I can’t make a decision right now, I will have to get back to you.” and I weighed my options.

I call the police;
I know Hal is an N and I know he’s probably already done damage control, I have a 50/50 chance the police will even listen to me, I have nothing in writing and neither does he so it will be a he said/she said scenario and the cops probably can’t do anything and will tell me to take him to small claims. It would prolong dealing with an asshole and I really don’t need that in my life.

As it is Hal has cost me $850 ($350 I paid him, $300 I lost in the sale of my truck, and at least $200 I would have made on the job in Port Moody I missed and someone else picked up) Plus I’ve wasted more hours on that man than can be calculated because he is always late and if I hadn’t bought the other truck I wouldn’t have been royally screwed because he took so long fixing my GMC and I wouldn’t have had any way to make money to pay him.  I shudder to think about it and it makes me really angry but do I want to waste any more time on the asshole? Do I want him in my life in any way? No!!

Some times doing nothing is really doing the best thing. I don’t want to feed Hal’s need for attention through conflict.

So if I am not calling the cops my other option is to find a driveshaft, buy it and install it myself but that means I have to sit on the phone trying to track one down. Not having phone reception where I live means I will be cutting into time I could be using to make money. I need to make money because I am dead in the water without it.

So like the song says, “I decided to fold and walk away.”
I called the buyer and told him I can’t accept $400 could he do $500? He said he’d ask his son; yes they would go $500. He got a tow truck to pick it up and take it to his place. I said I have to work to make enough money to buy fuel to get the registration to him and he said not a problem. I did a few pickups that I missed last week when my truck was down, now there was even more. So I had a good money making day and got $279 for 3 hours work.

I called Jim and said I’d have his $550 by the end of the day. He said not to leave myself short, he would be happy with $300. I said I wanted to at least pay the $400 he lent me to buy the 1974 Chev. I also owed my girlfriend $100 and wanted to pay her.

So yesterday I was able to buy a jug of oil for the truck, a new pair of work gloves, stock my cupboards with groceries and dog food, and even bought myself a pair of cowboy boots at Value Village for $20. ( For whatever reason wearing cowboy boots makes me feel more confident, when I was still with JC he told me that when I wore my cowboy boots I had an air of confidence about me, that can’t be a bad thing)

Now that I have walked away from the table what are my blessings?
1. I handled it, I didn’t let the bastard intimidate me, I didn’t feed his sick need for drama and attention and walked away with my head held high.
2. The guy who bought the truck got a good deal and I was out $350. Oh well, I really like the guy who bought the truck and guess what! he owns dump trucks and rebuilds antique cars; what does that means? he has scrap! and he is going to call me to come pick up within the next week.
3. I could have spent all day
looking for a driveshaft and then gotten frustrated trying to put it in and possibly had to deal with Hal again today and wasted another day I could have been working. Instead I made almost as much as I lost ($25 less) big deal and today it is all ancient history; I can close that page and move on. It was 10:30 by the time I got to Jim last night but I paid him for the truck and that felt wonderful!!!
I paid my girlfriend and by midnight I was sitting at my kitchen table drinking a ice cold Mike’s Hard Lemonade and eating a turkey tv dinner.

With that out of the way I can focus on getting my butt out of this trailer and I have a few ideas about how to do it. I’m quite excited about one idea but will save that for another post.

Once I am out of here and have an internet connection I have a new career idea I am excited about and could put all my experiences over the past 12 years to good use. But that is a post of it’s own also.

So that’s all folks!
Like my blog says; Playing with the cards I’m dealt, the best I can. This time I decided to fold and walk away. Next time? who knows; I guess we’ll see what I get dealt in the next hand.

Hugs to you all.
off to work I go……hi ho hi ho.

(written Tuesday morning and posted on Wednesday)

I Don’t See a “Kick Me ” Sign On My Back

I don’t expect a free ride; I honestly don’t. Anyone who knows me will tell you I work hard for my money and I would never screw someone over on a deal; never! My conscience wouldn’t allow it. And I hate to be a whiner; live with or change it; but don’t whine about it.

I am so sick of people; (mostly)men screwing me over, pushing me around, and taking advantage of me and the fact that I am vulnerable and my family’s attitude that I deserve what I get because I went back to James.

I never felt I was an N magnet in my life, but I sure do now. It’s as if they hold meetings,
“Ok guys! guys settle down; this meeting has come to order. Men, we’ve got one bitch that just won’t lie down and give up; she’s a tough nut to crack. We’re got to ramp things up and get this done; we’ve spent too much time on her. Now who here has any ideas on what we can do to break this bitch once and for all? JC put your hand down; you had 10 years to get the job gone and you blew it! anyone else? ok You there at the back, state your name and your idea.”

Paranoid? not me!

As you all know life has been a real struggle for me lately but I’ve been dragging myself out there and doing my best to get my life back on track. Last week I was thinking finally things were falling into place.

One of the major stumbling blocks I face is; No internet or phone service  have been trying to sell my GMC because I just can’t afford to fix it; I put an ad placed on Craig’s list, I started at $1600 and then dropped the price to $1200; I started to get some calls at that price but then they wanted to see the truck and it is in Surrey, a good hour from where I living. I drove all the way out there two weeks ago because a guy said he had cash in hand and wanted it. He was a no show and I wasted $40 in fuel and my Sunday, not to mention I could have been at the flea market making money.

So, anyway, the truck I am driving needs brakes REALLY bad; they are squealing and I have a really bad vibration when I put on the brakes. It is also leaking oil and rad fluid. It’s an old truck; I expected gaskets and hoses would need to be replaced and planned to do all these minor repairs when I sold my GMC. Last Thursday I tried to put water in my rad and couldn’t get the cap off, I was going to get a man to try later and then forgot about it. I got a call on my GMC, the guy was only willing to pay $800 cash. I took it, cash is king. I owed my friend Jim $400 and he really needed his money because he is heading out hunting today. At $800 I could pay him and still get my brakes done and do a few other things.

I stopped at Tim Horton’s to use the washroom and get a bite to eat before I called the guy to say I was on my way. I forgot my phone was in my back pocket and when I pulled my jeans down in the bathroom my phone fell in the toilet. Yep folks, there it was submersed at the bottom of the toilet bowl; I was just thankful it fell in before I used the toilet. (notice the positive attitude?)

I tried to dry it best I could under the hand dryer. I can’t use my phone so I can’t call the guy to set up a time to meet and can’t get his number off my phone. I decide to take my phone back to Best Buy and see what they can do for me. On the way my truck starts to overheat so I park it at Lordco and take the dogs for a walk while it cools down. Then I bought some oil, antifreeze and a pair of work gloves at Lordco tried the rad cap and still couldn’t get it off. I try my phone and it worked (kinda) so I call the guy and say I will have to come tomorrow, he is fine with that. I call Jim and he comes and pries my rad cap off, I fill my rad, no visible leaks, must be a hose; he leaves, I go to get fuel and notice a HUGE puddle under my truck. Call Jim again and he says to limp it to his shop. He figures its just a gasket. We take water pump off and replace gasket, put water in, it pours out. I need a new water pump!; piss. It is 1am so Jim lends me his truck to go home and I return in the morning.
No one in Abbotsford has a water pump for a 1974 chev so we order one in. I miss a days work but I am rolling with the punches. I put my phone in a bag of rice over night and its working; only had to buy a $10 sim card. I called the guy and say I am going to be late.
I borrow $100 from Jim for the water pump and even installed it myself and I’m feeling pretty proud of myself. Still rolling with the punches. I head out to do the truck deal, call the guy and he says getting too late lets do it tomorrow. Fine with me.
Saturday first thing I get a call from a customer wanting a pick up in Port Moody, perfect! I can do the truck deal, take the bridge to Pt Moody and go home. I stop at a few customers and get a little load on and made $70; perfect! just enough to buy a permit $30 to drive it over to the guy and I couldn’t find my registration so paid $18 for a replacement, no biggie. Bought myself lunch $6 and a pack of smokes $9 and had just enough fuel to get to Surrey where $800 is waiting for me.
I got to my truck and the cab is full of Hal’s crap (Hal is the guy who “fixed” my driveshaft) and the battery is missing.

I call Hal and tell him I am there to get my truck and what does he figure I owe him. He never did give me an answer. We agreed that I had paid him $350 already so I said I could pay him another $100. He said when do I get the rest? I told him I didn’t feel I owed him more. Of course he feels I owe him for the trany in his van and for all the hours he spent fabricating a driveshaft unnecessarily. He tells me he’s also taken my brake switch off and put it on his truck. He said he’d be there in 1/2 an hour, I tell him I have a job waiting, he says 1/2 hr.

Four hours later I am still waiting; take the dogs for a walk and when I get back he is sitting there eating take out. I walk up and ask if my truck is ready to go, I can see the battery on the ground. He says he’s not doing anything until he’s eaten. I say I’ve been waiting 4 hours and I have a job to get to. He says he’s been waiting 3 months and starts accusing me of not going into Amix to avoid paying him. Why would I have paid him $350 if I wasn’t planning on paying him? Besides that; what is he doing going to Amix and asking if I’ve been in; that’s bullshit! He hauls scrap; he knows prices have been down. He called me a liar when I told him I got more in Abbotsford than at Amix. He’s harping on about my wrecking his trany and owing for that but he still won’t name a price.
I said, “You knew money was tight, how did you expect me to put fluid in the van? it had NO fluids whatsoever, that is your responsibility not mine.”
He says he wants more money than the $100 but still doesn’t name a figure. I keep saying I can only pay $100 and he says,”How much are you getting for the truck?” He wants at least half. I told him no way. He crawls under my truck and takes the driveshaft off. I say give me my $350 back. He says that is for the trany. I am furious (plug your ears because this is where I start swearing) I call him an asshole and he says he can see why I can’t keep a man. I spun around and said,”You can keep your fucking mouth shut, my personal life has nothing to do with you. If I wanted abuse and to get screwed over I would have called James. You have nothing to say that I want to hear; I am done talking to you”. He said something about me being a selfish bitch and I felt like punching him but instead told him, “I told you, keep your fucking opinions to yourself, I don’t give a shit what you think.” and refused to respond to his yabbering.

There are dogs across the street and Mary had let her dogs out so my dogs were going nuts, Hal left with his driveshaft and I gave Mary a hug and left.

I called the guy who was buying it and now he’ll give me $400 for it. I put the $7 I have into fuel but still only got 1/2 way home. I parked the truck and called a few friends, either they didn’t answer or couldn’t help. It is 9 pm, the dogs and I are hungry and I am broke. I start to cry. Enough is enough!

I call Jim to say I don’t have his money, he asks where I am and what I am going to do. I tell him I am going to sleep in my truck and call the guy in the morning and take the $400 I guess. I said I didn’t know what to do. everyone says phone the police but I was so upset I couldn’t think or talk straight.

I fell asleep with my head on Laila and woke up at midnight when Jim called to say he was in Langley and where was I. He bought me dinner and gave me $50 for fuel. I said I hate to borrow more money and he said,” I have to keep you alive because I want you”. Geeezzzzz

I got home at 4 am, no water at home; none. I went to girlfriends for shower yesterday. I have just enough fuel to get down the hill today.

No idea what I am going to do about either truck.

And to top it all off Laila is in heat and Kato is driving us both nuts!!!!

Welcome to my life!

Doing The Right Thing Should Be Easy

James insisted he had grabbed the chain out of Kris’s hand. I told him I didn’t know what to believe. He asked me to at least check out what he was telling me and I promised I would.

I picked Kris up from the hospital the next morning and I told him I had talked to James and heard the messages he had sent.

I was angry, I had specifically told him to not start anything and had asked him why he needed my phone when he borrowed it that night and he had lied to me.

I was angrier at myself, I felt guilty for dragging my son into my mess. I knew he would feel the need to protect his momma. I had a feeling in my gut when we pulled up that something wasn’t right. I had only given in and let him come home with me to avoid arguing with him; I had wanted to be alone. Now it was a huge mess and I could have prevented it all.(mind you, in retrospect James definitely had something planned when he started putting all the lights on his truck and had been very intimidating that night. Who knows what would have happened if I would have gone home alone.)

Kris admitted the chain was the chain he used to lock his bike up and he had hooked it onto his belt loop of his pants. The knife was the one that his dad had given him that he always packed. It had been in the pocket of his cargo pants and must have fallen out in the fight.

I told him he had to go to the police and tell the truth, he flatly refused. I told him that if he lied in court he would be charged with purgery and besides I had always taught him to be honest.

From the time he was wee that had been the one thing I always harped on with him; always tell the truth, as long as you are honest things will work out and you never get in as much trouble as if you are caught lying.

He would not change his mind and I told him that I would not lie for him in court. He said I didn’t have to lie; just tell them what I saw. I said I can’t do that; I know the truth now and to pretend I don’t would be lying. I just could not lie; not even for my son; it went against everything I stood for, I was heartsick. 

I went to meet James secretly a couple of times and told him Kris refused to change his testimony but told him to give Kris time to think about it. If he didn’t change his mind in a couple of days I would go to the cops and tell them what I knew. Of course I was too stupid to realize James was being so loving and understanding because he was orchestrating his defense.

Out of the blue Kris asked if he could talk to James, he wanted to apologize. I called James and he agreed to meet us. Kris got out of my car and shook James hand and apologized for the messages and the fight and James did the same, I thought we were getting somewhere but when Kris got back in the car he still refused to go to the police with the truth. 

I called the police and told the officer who had been there that night that I had new information and that my son had confessed to me it was his knife and chain. He said to save it for court. I said why wait? Why waste taxpayer dollars going to court when it could all be sorted out now. He refused to take my statement. I decided to write Crown Counsel myself explaining the whole situation.

By this time I had moved into an apartment in Abbotsford and had started full time college.  My son was not supposed to be living with me. When he had come back from Calgary it was supposed to be for a few weeks until he got a job and saved for a place. I was on a very limited student government grant to upgrade my skills; it wasn’t enough for me to live on let alone support Kris. When he quit school in Grade 10 I had told him he’d better get a job because if he wasn’t in school I was not supporting him.
He was hanging with a bad crowd, bringing them back to the apartment while I was in school and the neighbors were complaining. The landlady warned me that he had to move out or I would be evicted; so I told him he had to get out.

James and I were seeing each other again (something I am not proud of and I am sure contributed to Kris’s attitude, I packed guilt about it for years, I apologized to Kris and he forgave me long before I could forgive myself. I have forgiven myself finally. I did the best I could and I screwed up, but my guilt was keeping me from being the best mom I could be, now! I had to let it go)

I wrote my letter to crown counsel and James had written his. The first statement I wrote put all the blame on James the 2nd one laid it on Kris and was heavily influenced by James, in the 3rd and final I laid the blame on myself, saying I should not have told Kris anything to begin with or had Kris come home with me that night. I should have been more aware of what he was doing that night with my phone and basically just stated the facts surrounding that night. James was not happy with my revised version and tried to pressure me into changing it but I refused. Once again, I was sticking to the belief that the truth was the best way to deal with it.

I had my statement typed, signed, and in a sealed envelope on the counter, James was taking his in and offered to take mine at the same time.

A few days later James took me for breakfast and we had a really good talk. I went to school very positive about us. We got out of class early that day and I was anxious to get home to James. When I got to the apartment his truck was parked out front loaded with his stuff from the apartment and with things he had given me; like a TV. He was pulling away when I ran up to the truck and asked what he was doing. He said it was over, he was moving into a warehouse, it was never going to work out between us and that was it. I was devastated, dazed, confused standing there in the parking lot crying as he drove away. I could barely function, went up to the apartment and Kris was on the couch sleeping, he hadn’t even woken up with James moving.

James was so cold and matter of fact about it ending and at this point I still believed he was honest. I admit I grovelled for another chance, I promised to change, I said I would take the relationship on his terms, anything just don’t end it. We spent a couple of nights together at the warehouse and when I went back to the apartment after school I couldn’t open the door; the locks had been changed.

It was a Friday and my landlady didn’t answer her phone, I had no idea where Kris was or what had happened. The door jamb was broken so obviously someone had kicked the door in. I found him at a friends. He told me that when he moved out he took the handheld phone and was able to buzz himself in. He kicked the door open and went to sleep in the lazyboy chair. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep/passed out when he was woken up by someone kicking the chair. He grabbed a pair of scissors and was brandeshing them when he realized it was the landlady and a cop standing there. He told them I had packed up and left him there. They believed him, didn’t call me, gave him ten minutes to pack up his clothes, kicked him out and changed the locks.

Yes I know she couldn’t legally do that but she did and I lost everything because she gave me a one chance to get my things and James didn’t show up with the truck.

I called Crown counsel and they said they never received my statement so I called the police officer and he said he had it in the file at the police station. I told him Crown would look at it and he said it could wait until court.

I was totally frustrated by the police, I felt like they were playing games. The night of the fight one officer took Kris and my statement and another officer took James’s. They had asked James for his address and he had given his buddy’s address in the resort. He was  told that if he wasn’t at that address he would be arrested for being in breach of his conditions for release. I was told that he was not to be in the park and if he was seen in the park to call them and he would be arrested. I had called the police many times to ask if he was allowed in the park and no one could give me an answer. The attending cop went from 4 days off to being on vacation. So Kris and I thought James was purposely harassing us when in fact he had to be at the resort. Mind you he did follow us and he did intimidate us with the bright headlights etc. But the whole situation was escalated by the cops not commumicating. Finally the night JC was escorted to get his things was the first time he was told to not come back, even to visit friends.

The whole situation was out of control and the police seemed to be enjoying the show.

The way the whole thing was handled was unprofessional, disorganized, and instead of difusing the situation the police contributed to emotions esculating to dangerous levels. Not once was I contacted by victim services or someone from a Domestic Violence support group, my concerns were literally laughed at by the police. And JC was revelliing in the fact that he had managed to turn things in his favor again. I knew he had a restraining order put on him years prior by the girl that had his baby and I told the police to check his file in Alberta. They said nothing showed up, but I found out later that a person can pay $400 and have their record sealed.