Tag Archives: Sex

I Am Not Dealing Well

I am sitting here frozen. Reminiscent of when James would rip my heart out and blame me for it. You know when your whole world seems to come crashing down around you and you just can’t cope, can’t think clearly enough to make sense of your thoughts.  I can’t drive right now, I can’t make myself move. I am shaking so bad I can barely type and I know I should be doing something.

What the hell am I babbling about? Please, if I tell you; no one tell me I told you so; no one get mad at me or tell me what I “should” have done or that I’ve let you down. Because I am feeling very fragile right now.

As you all know I lost my job. Colin, (the guy from work who I was seeing and found with another woman) has been extremely supportive and helpful throughout the whole time. When I found a truck I had him check it out, he thought it was a great find. He talked to management and got them to agree. They didn’t want to spend that much so he personally signed for $1500 of the debt.

He built a dog kennel for my house, he was just an all round nice guy. He kept making sure I knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else. And well, I started to relax and we become intimate. It took alot for me to get there and we talked alot about where I was coming from, his feelings. We didn’t say I love you but I felt there was a relationship growing.

Anyway, I got my truck on Friday and by the time I paid the sales tax on it I couldn’t afford to insure it so got a two day permit so I could work and make money for insurance.

Colin worked on it until late Friday night and came home with me. I drove him back to work Saturday morning and went to work myself. I made enough to get another permit and a few groceries.

Saturday I wanted him to take the afternoon off and come back to the lake with me but he worked on my truck until almost midnight and said I had to come back Sunday for hIm to finish.

My grandma’s memorial was Sunday up at Cultus Lake and when I went to leave my truck wouldn’t start. I did what I could but couldn’t get it started. My mom gave me her car to drive home. I had a key for Colin’s so seeing as it was early I thought maybe he would ride back to the lake with me; I knew he could get it going in 5 minutes.

I let myself in, yelling “Hello!?” as I walked through the door and saw the same woman he had there before standing there.

I called him a Fucking bastard and handed her the house key and left.

I know I am not in love with him, its the lying and the effort he put into breaking down my barriers that hurt.

I will get over it/him but now I have $15 to my name and my truck is broken down and I have no one to help me.

I have been trying to remain positive since I lost my job but you know? I am tired. I haven’t had any breaks from the stress.

I never should have dated him.  Its not that I need a man, its that it was nice to have a man to care and be helpful. I enjoy sex with the right man.

That’s all I have to say. I am just very sad today and I don’t know how I am going yo pull it all together.

I am sure I will find the strength somewhere

Hugs to you all.
not much of an inspiration now am I?
Carrie

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Mornings

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best foot warmer

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The lake

This is my typical morning view, I am sitting in my little cabin listening to my wind chimes being whipped into a frenzy by the wind. The sun is shining but the wind is cold, yet I am warm curled up on my couch with Laila snuggled up beside me with her head on my feet.

Every morning I wake up and feel blessed to be alive, even this morning, jobless; how could I not feel blessed to be alive?

Mornings haven’t always been so idyllic, it wasn’t long ago I woke and cried every morning.

JC used to scream at me,”Every fucking day its like this, every fucking day you cry. I am so fucking sick of you crying. Can’t you ever be thankful. You ruin every day with your bitching. I wake up in a good mood and then you get up and ruin my day with your nagging and crying.”

Of course if I mentioned WHY I was crying he would go into another tirade about how my happiness shouldn’t be dependent on his moods.

See the contradiction here? My mood ruined his day but his moods weren’t supposed to affect me in any way.

I didn’t realize what I was dealing with and understand now that Narcissists hate intimacy and once they have their victim firmly hooked they will avoid closeness at any cost.

You see when I met JC he couldn’t get enough of me; he would drag me off to the bedroom the minute I walked through the door and at night we would go to bed together and make love again. He liked to fall asleep with me on top and him still inside me, often waking up 1/2 way through through the night and making love again. I say making love because that is what I felt it was, it was far to intimate and intense to just be sex. We would wake up in the morning in the same position and, you guessed it: make love again. Even on the very odd occasion that we didn’t have sex I would fall asleep with my head on his chest, his arm around me, my hand cradling his head (because he had broken his neck years ago and I would massage his neck as we fell asleep) and wake up in the same position in the morning. Neither one of us would roll over in the night. We discussed the fact that neither one of us had ever slept like that with anyone before; with anyone else one or the other had rolled over at some point in the night.

During our “getting to know you” stage I had asked him if he had ever screwed around on any of the women he’d been with. He admitted that he had, once. He told me he had been with the woman something like 10 years and she had always accused him of cheating. He told me he had always been faithful, even though he had been a trucker at the time and had the opportunity, he had always remained faithful , but when he got home she would accuse him of cheating. He said it was destroying the relationship and that they weren’t even sleeping together any more. He was on the road alot but when he was home they hadn’t slept together for about 6 months when on one of his trips the boss’s niece needed a ride in the direction he was going and rode with him. One thing led to another and they ended up having sex. He had always called his girlfriend every night but that night he felt so guilty he couldn’t call.

When he got home his girlfriend was waiting for him and found evidence if a woman in the truck and all hell broke loose. He said he felt horrible and tried to make it work and never screwed around again but she couldn’t get over it; had an affair with his best friend and eventually it broke them up.

I had thought, surely she knew it was over if they hadn’t slept together for 6 months, and he said he had felt so guilty. (you know the lies we tell ourselves in order to justify their actions and assure ourselves that it won’t happen with US because we are “special”.

It didn’t happen overnight; it started slowly, with him coming to bed with me and then getting up once I was asleep and then he started coming to bed later and later. I talked to him about how I loved to fall asleep in his arms and he blamed it on the fact that he wasn’t working so just wasn’t tired at night. (I of course WAS tired because I WAS working.) He always made it to bed at some point and when he did we would always make love and fall back to sleep with him inside me.

When he got a job nothing changed, and over the course of years he came to bed later and later. The love making turned to sex, where he came to bed, pulled me on top of him and got his rocks off without so much as giving me a kiss. By this time I had discovered his addiction to porn and personal ads. I often felt like I was nothing more than a physical release after watching hours of porn, I could have been a blow up doll for the amount of forplay he put into having sex. I ended up buying lube, a mistake because then forplay consisted of, “Where’d you put the lube?”

I never turned him down, I always wanted to make love to him but I missed our love making, the closeness we once shared. He would promise to “be there in 5 minutes” when I went to bed, then I would wake up to find the bed empty beside me; it was obvious he hadn’t been to bed at all that night.

I would get up and find him asleep at his computer, I even found him asleep on the toilet; one time he was so tired he fell asleep half way up the stairs Standing!! He avoided coming to bed at all costs.

You know what I was thinking right? Porn, personal ads, not coming to bed…….it was over and he just wasn’t telling me. Yet any time I talked to him about it he said I was being too sensitive,  he was working too much, not working, working on my truck all night, didn’t want to come to bed because I was nagging him, then he didn’t want to come to bed because I never asked him to come to bed. It tore me apart.

On top of it he was growing more critical every day, it was as if me breathing his air was pissing him off.

Finally I left him. Of course as soon as we split he was so sorry he hadn’t slept with me, he made love to me with even more intensity and we got back together. We did this dance many times. Until the last time when he came and begged me back and asked me to marry him etc.

This time, after we had been back together about a year he even stopped coming to bed at all and if he did he would keep his clothes on and sleep on top of the covers. If we did have sex he would undo his zipper, not even take his jeans off.

I am not proud of the fact that I never said no. I loved him so much, I kept hoping this time would be different.

So yes, that last year I woke up and cried most days. Occasionally he would come to bed and make love to me, but I couldn’t even enjoy those times because I knew that if he made love to me he wouldn’t come home from work the next night.

It took 10 years but he eventually destroyed my confidence sexually, eventually he turned me off of sex completely. And I knew exactly the hell his ex had gone through for 10 years and why she had made it her life purpose to inform every woman he got involved with what he was like. She became a severe alcoholic that drank herself to death, bitter, and alone, broken.

I vowed I would not let him break me like he broke her. I would not give him the satisfaction of thinking he destroyed me so deeply I could never be with another man.

Fyi to James, I don’t wake up crying any more. I don’t hate men, in fact you have made almost every other man on the planet look good!! You did. Not. Break. Me!! Your inability to be intimate and loving did not destroy my ability to be intimate and loving; if anything it has made me value that quality in others even more.

You are the anomaly, healthy people need closeness and enjoy intimacy and cherish it when they find someone they can be close with. You are the one lacking James, but you know that don’t you? Misery loves company and you tried to make me as miserable as you. You hated the fact that I could bare my soul to you, that I could be that vulnerable, you saw it as a weakness and punished me for allowing you to get that close. You felt I deserved the rejection, I was so stupid to love you that much. How sad for you James. You are not that powerful, I am so much stronger than you. It takes alot of strength to be that vulnerable.

So now I get up in the morning and I thank God for my life and the beautiful world around me, my puppies, the lake and the fact that I can feel, because life doesn’t have to feel bad, life can feel intensely good. But you will never know that James.

I haven’t shed a tear in his honor for longer than I can remember.

What Was I Thinking

I was thanking my lucky stars, I could not believe my good fortune. I had seen my girlfriends meet men who treated them like queens and wanted to take care of them and my girlfriends let them.

In the past I had been ferociously  independent and self sufficient. I had listened to my dad and mom fight about money and laid awake at night listening to my dad threaten to take my brother and leave. I never wanted to rely on a man for anything, I wanted to be able to leave if I wanted I didn’t want to give up control or more than wanted to. It wasn’t so much me giving up control I guess I was afraid of giving the man too much power over me.

I didn’t want to control the man  either; I wanted a relationship based on mutual respect, honest communication, shared interests, and compromise, great sex would be a bonus.

I dated alot, I didn’t fall for men easily and if I didn’t feel a spark on the first or second date I moved on. If a guy “fell in love” too quickly I was completely turned off. If he was too possessive or tried to monopolize my time I was out of there. I don’t like conflict and I don’t like playing games so if a guy couldn’t handle honest communication I was history. My girlfriend’s boyfriends either loved me or hated me because I was my own person and I didn’t tolerate bullshit from men. One of my friends told me whenever she stood up to her boyfriend he would  say,” You’ve been talking to Carrie again haven’t you?”

I never cared about material things, only that a guy worked, in fact I have a real attraction for men with working hands. Soft manicured hands on a man has never been a turn on for me.

I think part of it is that I am 5’10” almost 11″ and I don’t feel feminine with a guy smaller than me. When a man holds my hand I want to feel a man’s hand. Hard to explain.

My whole adult life I have had a group of girlfriends I enjoyed spending time with and I like my alone time more than most people. When Victor and I were married he worked shift work at the prison and I quite enjoyed my nights alone. We had our mutual friends but we our individual friends also. I have always liked that line, “How can I miss you if you won’t go away”.

Because I didn’t need a man and was quite capable of providing for my son and myself and because I wasn’t materialistic and I had a soft spot for the underdog I had gotten tangled up with a few guys who weren’t too motivated to work but I had never been in an abusive or controlling relationship.

I had gone straight from Victor’s motorcycle accident to being a single mom. Then my mom and dad split and my mom practically lived with me for over a year she was so devastated. I had bought and sold homes, held responsible positions at work, married a man with 4 children and been step mom to them (and loved it and them I’m not saying I didn’t but lets face it; it was alot of work and I always put 100% into anything I do), Kris had not been an easy child to raise and he was now 17 and very independent. I had been the major bread winner in most of my relationships and now I was ready to be pampered a bit. I really felt that it was MY time.

I was ready to relax and enjoy my life and enjoy a loving relationship without worrying about kids, exs, daddy weekends, school supplies, not making too much noise having sex because some little ears might hear. I was at the prime of my life and I had just met the man of my dreams and I was going for it.

JC was a little too demanding of my time for my liking but he was so good to me and I had passed up nice guys before so I fought the urge to dump him when I felt clastraphobic.

He wasn’t working (which I thought was the reason he was wanting me around so much, he was bored) but had graduated top of his class in water sewer technology and was looking for work but he always had money and didn’t mind spending it. He was always wheeling and dealing, buying things out of the Buy & Sell and reselling them, trading things; it amazed me how he could make money that way.

Sundays we would hop in the car and just take off, destination unknown. We would blitz Vancouver, stop at a pub and share a burger, visit a friend, cruise pawn shops and second hand stores. He wanted me to meet all his friends and his family. I’ve read dating advice articles on what to look for to make sure the guy isn’t hiding anything and JC was doing everything right. He had Mr answer his phone for him, took me to meet family and friends, didn’t hesitate to introduce me as his girlfriend,   he gave me a key to his apartment  so I could come and go as I pleased. He was always on time or called been if he was going to be 20 minutes late.

If he went to the corner store he wanted me along, he always wanted me along. (which annoyed me sometimes because it was only through corner store, but it wasn’t a deal breaker).

We laughed, alot, in public we played off of each other, we were in sync. I have a thirst for knowledge and loved talking to him because he knew something about every thing and he didn’t mind explaining things. We discussed the environment, the world situation, religion, things that not every one likes to talk about. We watched documentaries instead of sitcoms. He was the only man I’ve ever known to spend $500 on Partylite candles. We both loved aquariums and spent hours looking at the fish and hundreds of dollars buying fish. He found a 90 gal aquarium and we filled it with discus. Every Sunday we would buy more fish. Money was never a problem. He left me little love notes that were waiting whenever I arrived before he got home, or if he left before I woke up, he bought me flowers, and he told me he loved me often.

He was always pointing out how well we got along. He told me how it was so refreshing to be with a woman who didn’t play games and could talk about problems calmly and rationally. (when he got with the new woman he told me she was so calm and rational he could talk to her, they never fight; she was nothing like me) I had said, “I am sure she is a frickin’ saint, I don’t want to hear how wonderful she is. When she’s been with you 10 years like I have you get back to me and tell me if she’s still so calm and rational.”

He cried the first time he said he loved me, he said he had thought he knew what love was before but now he knew what real love felt like.He told me I was perfect the way I was and to never change.

He was the most even tempered man I had ever met. I am an Aries through and through so I tend to be emotional. If I get upset I let off steam and then get over it, he handled me perfectly. When I was upset about something he would pack me off to the bedroom, make me lay down with my head on his chest and he’d stroke my hair while I told him what was bugging me. Of Ncourse we would end up having sex but I always felt better. I remember laying in his arms, my head on his shoulder, the smell of him, the strength of his arms around me and thinking, “As long as we always have this, everything will be ok in the world.” I had never felt safer or more loved than I did when I laid in his arms. We slept wrapped in each others arms and would wake up in the morning exactly the same way.

Sure, he was lying to me about alot of things but I didn’t know it, (some things I didn’t find out about until 10 years later) as far as I was concerned he was incapable of lying, being unfaithful or being abusive. I was determined to not take his good nature for granted and to show him every day how much I appreciated him; not like the other women who had taken advantage of his tender heart.

The Attraction Grows

He laughed again and said,”So I gather it didn’t go well?”

Me: “He was a pompous ass lawyer”

He had a really good laugh at that and then said he was sorry it didn’t turn out.

Me: “Oh well, I didn’t have any expectations that he was going to be the love of my life or anything. I hope it wasn’t too late for me to call.”

He assured me it wasn’t too late, he’d just been playing guitar. He said he had just bought a headset so he could play his electric guitar and not bother the neighbors. (how considerate of him)

We started asking questions and share information about ourselves.

That is when I discovered he was recovering from a bad motorcycle accident, he told me he felt really blessed because he had been told he would never walk again and he was walking just fine. He also told me the insurance company was paying for him to re-educate because he probably couldn’t go back to his any of his old professions which were long haul trucking, mechanic, and welder. He was born in Saskatchewan and had just found his birth mother and moved to BC to get to know his birth family, a full blood sister and 2 half siblings.

Of course that really perked my interest and I wanted to know more, how they found each other, what the meeting was like, etc.

He mentioned he was buying a house in Sechelt and renting an apartment in Ladner.

I said I loved the ocean and he said he was looking at the ocean as we spoke.

He had never been married but had been in a long term common law relationship of 12 years.

He told me that he was really glad I had called and I said I was too. I told him I never call men but my son had said to “just call”. He said that he had never done anything like that before either, give a woman his number; but he had felt a connection as soon as we saw each other then I would almost hugged him. He said that if I had hugged him it would have seemed perfectly natural. He was impressed I took the time to explain what was going on and he said he just had to take a chance but he didn’t really think I would call.

It was almost midnight when I said I had to go and he asked if
we could meet for drinks the next night and I said I thought he was too young for me. He said age didn’t bother him and asked how old I thought he was. I guessed early 30’s and he said he had just turned 36. He said he’d dated older women before, in fact the long term relationship was with a woman almost twice his age. I told him I was 42 and he kinda laughed and said that isn’t an age difference.
I was smitten, I had felt so comfortable with him, the conversation had flowed and he obviously thought I was ok too. We had laughed alot, he had a good sense of humour and enjoyed my wit, we had “clicked”.

The next day he called and apologized because he had to cancel drinks but asked if we could do it Friday instead. He explained he was waiting for money and had bought a new car and needed to do the paperwork etc. I understood and thanked him for calling. He seemed relieved that I understood and even said that it was really cool of me to not be upset. I thought it would be pretty silly to get upset, what could the guy do, its not like he stood me up and he had called.

On Friday he called during the day to arrange a place and time. He was right on time, driving a BMW and looking fine. I was nervous at first but he was so easy to talk to that once again the conversation flowed.

He’d said that he had to make it an early night because he had work the next day; (he was still working 1 day a week welding to suppliment ment his income while he was in school.)

We were leaving and to my surprise he asked if I wanted to go to a quieter place for another drink. I asked about work the next day and he said he didn’t want the night to end yet. As we were leaving and about to cross the street he grabbed my hand and I felt shock waves, he had strong hands. I was very attracted to him.

When we said goodbye I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the neck and said I had a really nice time, as I pulled away our lips met and we had a very nice long lingering kiss that left us both a little breathless.

We had made plans to meet the next day, Saturday because I was going to help him pick up his other car. (when he bought his BMW he had left his other car behind). Saturday he called exactly when he said he would and we arranged a place to meet. He called just as I got there and said he’d just a few minutes.  When he got there he got out of his car to open my door and I am sure my jaw hit the ground. He was wearing faded tight blue jeans with a rip in the knee, old sneakers, and a black leather jacket undone to reveal his bare chest; and what a chest it was, he had a six pack and just enough chest hair to make me want to smell his chest right then and there. I thought to myself,”He knows exactly what he is doing and I know what he is doing and its working. God I want this man, even if just for a night”.

He must have noticed me oggling his chest (or maybe it was the drool at the corner of my mouth) because he said, “Oh …..my shirt was dirty so I took it off.”

I don’t recall if I said anything, like a lobotomy patient I stood there, drooling, staring at his chest, my mind raced as I struggling to maintain my composure and respectability. I know I was blushing,

I think I smiled and nodded.

Then he turned to get something out of the truck and I glimpsed his bare ass through a rip in his jeans. He had his back to me, thank God!! because I think my knees went weak and my eyes rolled back in my head. I knew I was done for.

We moved his car to a friends, he went to the liquor store and bought some coolers and we sat and talked while we had a drink. He didn’t have long because he was going to Sechelt like he did every weekend. When we were saying goodbye he kissed me and we ended up necking in a busy parking lot for probably 1/2 an hour at least. God he was a good kisser. He handed me another number, he said it was the land line, his cell phone didn’t always work when he was in Sechelt and to call him on Sunday. As I got out of his car he grabbed my hand and stopped me, looked me right in the eyes and said he’d really like to cook me dinner Monday night. I said that would be nice. As I closed the car door he said, “See you Monday, Babe.” part of me recoiled at being called babe so soon but another part of me got butterflies.

Monday came and he called me at work with a joke and to make sure we were still on for dinner. He met me a few miles from his place so I could follow him and not get lost. I thought that was sweet.

I was a little surprised when I walked into his apartment and there was no furniture. There was an aquarium and a wooden rocking chair, a blow up double air bed on the floor in the bedroom and his guitars, that was it. He apologized for not having furniture and said everything was in Sechelt. He had only rented the apartment for while he was in school and didn’t see any point in moving all his furniture for a few months. It made sense to me and the place was clean.

He immediately started kissing me when we walked through the door and packed me into the bedroom. I wasn’t too impressed and told him a glass of wine would  be nice  before he attacks me.

I didn’t get to finish my wine before he was all over me again, it didn’t take much to convince me. The sex was ok but sex the first time with someone is never as good as once you get to know them so I don’t ever have high expectations the first  time. We went for a great dinner and made love 3 or more times that night.

After that we saw each other every weekend and as many week nights as I would allow. We lived an hour and a half apart and I worked an hour and 15 minutes away plus my son was still living at home. But he would call and usually I would go to his place 3-4 nights a week.

Lively conversation, laughter, and tenderness filled our times together. When we weren’t together I trusted him explicitly.

JC used to say, “If you knew the truth you wouldn’t be this upset.” I’d say, “Well tell me the truth then”. And he’d say, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you so why bother.” A variation of this was, “If you knew the truth you’d feel really stupid for thinking what you’re thinking.” In every case it was always way worse than anything I could have imagined.

I was told something a couple of weeks ago that finally made all the puzzle pieces fall into place and I finally know the truth about something that happened 4-5 years ago and I have been literally sick a about it since. The minute I heard it I knew I had the truth finally and I wanted to vomit.

The old saying, “The truth always comes out.” sure proved to be true with JC. Sometimes I would KNOW he was lying, I would know in my gut there was more to the story he was telling me and I would bide my time, keeping mental notes and bit by bit the truth would surface, he would forget what he lied about and slip up somehow or I would find a picture or a letter that would prove he’d been lying. Once I had the hurtful truth then he would criticize me for living in the past and not letting things go. It is not living in the past if you find out about it a year later and realize he has been looking you right in the eyes and lying for a solid year and not only that; getting angry with you for being suspicious.

On November 16th 2007 I drove JC to the airport to fly to Edmonton to visit his mom before he flew out to Sudan Africa. We had been semi split for most of 2007, he was planning to go to Sudan as a volunteer on a farmer’s coop as a mechanic. I thought it was the most unselfish thing he had ever done and let him stay with me while he prepared to go, loading containers with his tools and such. I noticed he was packing up all his expensive good tools and asked him why he would ship his good tools over there because how would he get them back and he would need them for work when he returned. He said he would replace them when he got back, this was for charity and they had to have decent tools. I was skeptical, but couldn’t figure out what he was up to. I had told him he could stay with me but out of respect for me I expected he would stay out of the dating sites while he was living under my roof and sleeping in my bed. As was the case whenever we split up we were still seeing each other almost daily and having sex on a regular basis and saying “I Love you” . He was always saying, “I’m done, it’s over!” and then call me later that day and ask if I was hungry, I usually said no and he’d sound all sorry and sympathetic and say, ”You have to eat something.” He’d buy me supper and act like nothing had happened, so I never knew for sure if we were a couple or not, but I was always faithful to him and I told him that as long as we were having sex I expected he would be faithful. I think he thought I meant I wasn’t into threesomes because we could have sex in the morning and he could screw another woman that night.

I told him I was uneasy about him going to Africa and meeting someone and he had assured me he wasn’t going to Africa to meet women, he had a job to do while he was there and that was it. He would be out in the middle of no where on a farm and they weren’t allowed to leave the farm without an armed escort because of the LRA kidnapping and killing Christians. As far as I was concerned we were a couple again.

He flew to Edmonton on the 16th and called me every day, sometimes twice a day until he got on the plane to Africa. On the 26th his first ex called me drunk and full of hatred for JC. I hung up on her several times and finally let the answering machine get it; she called 37 times and left venomous messages that got worse with every call. Every thing she said about JC I knew to be true for me also but I wasn’t going to get into it at 3 am with a drunk. She asked me if I knew how she knew my number and answered her own question; JC had called her from my phone which I assumed to be the case. Then she called again the next night and I told her he and I were split and she left me alone.

On the 29th I emailed JC and told him about her calls. December 1st he called and said he was coming home in 5 days, he has Malaria and pneumonia, we got cut off so I called his mom and she called the head of the Farmer’s Coop, CB, they told her that he was going home because his mom was really sick. We assumed they meant his birth mother but his birth mother wasn’t sick either.

December 5th JC called 2 times again, making all kinds of promises to me about being faithful, getting out of dating sites etc. He sounded sincere and I was happy he was coming home before Christmas.

December 7th JC called to say he was boarding the plane leaving Sudan.

I picked him at the airport December 9th.

My journal entry from December 12th 2007.
JC came home with roses. But he’s not sleeping, just on the internet trying to line things up for Sudan. He hasn’t mentioned “us” at all. He picked up a load of scrap that was supposed to be for me and cashed it in. I went to get coin from my coin jar in the bedroom and there is $100 missing. He can’t remember all the money I gave him before he left and says I owe him money. His Edmonton mom keeps calling to talk to him. I give him the messages but he doesn’t return her calls.

He was coming and going as he pleased, sometimes home at night other times coming home in the wee hours of the morning or not at all and he refused to answer his phone. I figured he had come home because he was afraid his ex had gotten through to me and he was afraid of losing me but once he was home he treated me with more disregard than ever. He also told me that when he got there he had told CB he needed to be paid while he was there, he had bills at home that needed to be covered (which he didn’t) so he had talked CB into paying him $500 American a month. Not much but when you are confined to a farm in the middle of no where what are you going to spend money on? And he had told me it wasn’t enough and he was trying to get more out of CB before he went back, he wasn’t doing this for nothing. I said, “That’s what “volunteering” is, doing something for nothing.”

I ended up putting my neck out and was in extreme pain, JC bought me flowers and muscle relaxers and told me to take 3 and just go to bed; for once he seemed genuinely sympathetic. Before I laid down I told him to please not eat the special cookies I had baked for my son that I was going to ship to him with his Christmas gifts (his favorites that are a bitch to make and I only make them once a year for my kiddo) I told him he could eat anything else and there was tons of baking around that I had done.

I don’t usually take medication so it really hit me and I was out for hours. When I woke up I noticed right away that he had eaten almost all the cookies I had asked him not to eat. Then I looked around and he had been through every cupboard, drawer and closet in my place and had stacked or boxed up everything he planned to take with him. All my school books on business management, human resources, etc, all my fancy stationary, envelopes, stapler, pens, printer paper you name it he had it stacked ready to go, plus some pots, dishes etc. and my computer card so my computer wouldn’t work. I went outside and told him he couldn’t just take whatever he wanted and to ask me if he wanted something and gave him shit for eating Kris’s cookies and then went back to lay down.

December 17th he drove me to ship Kris’s gifts by bus and on the seat in his truck was a list of things he was taking to Sudan and ½ of it was my stuff, I got angry and confronted him on it and he got angry, slammed on the brakes and punched me in the arm and screamed over top of me while I cowered in the corner of the truck. When we got back to my place I went in and he stayed out in his truck for a few hours and then came in and continued packing. That night while I slept he cleaned me out of the rest of my coin (over $75), all my tools, drill bits, sockets, brand new paint, brushes and rollers and the list goes on.

I realized then that when I emailed him saying his ex had called he must have panicked because he had all his stuff stored at my place and been afraid I would trash it or sell it. I didn’t and never have done anything like that. But he was acting like I owed him. I was so angry I told him to tell his family and CB to lose my number I was done with him. He left the next day and I cried for two days.

On the 20th of December CB called me because he had sent JC a money draft for over $14,000 to buy equipment and now couldn’t get hold of him; he had changed his phone number, the guy he was supposed to be buying the stuff from hadn’t heard from him either. I called a mutual friend and he gave me JC’s new number so I called CB back and gave it to him. I didn’t hear from JC and had no idea where he was so I left a message at his new number saying I had put his stuff outside. He never came to get it and it snowed and then rained, too bad, if he won’t answer his phone why should I worry?

When I went out to leave for work on Dec 22nd he was parked across the driveway and really pissed about his stuff being outside. I told him, you change your phone number and don’t tell me, disappear for days without so much as an “F you” and you are pissed I put your stuff outside? Either move your truck now or I am calling the police. He sat there in his truck fuming for a few minutes and then moved and I left for work. When I got home he had taken everything I had asked him not to. I didn’t hear from him again until the 28th of December when he called and asked how I was. I said, “You cleaned me out and took most of my tools, how do you think I am?” he denied taking anything.

I don’t recall exactly how he managed it but I forgave him again before he left for Africa. This time when he went I heard from him twice in the first week and then nothing for a couple of months, his mother in Edmonton called twice to tell me she had talked to him and he sent his love to me and said he missed me. Then one day he called and said he was in some tavern in Africa and having a malaria attack, he didn’t know exactly where he was and he was sick and scared. I got what info I could and called his Edmonton mom and she called CB and apparently they found him and took him malaria medicine. Shortly after than he called and said he was coming “home” and wanted to see me.

I waited a week without a word and then he called, he was in Sechelt visiting his birth mother and would it be ok for him to come and talk to me. He arrived with a bouquet of flowers, gifts from Africa and full of love and promises. I was leery of course. He put his luggage in the kitchen, with his brief case sitting open on top. As I walked past I noticed a professionally taken picture of a beautiful black woman sitting on top of his paperwork in his briefcase; I took it out and under it was a letter from I assumed her to him. It was like a letter a teenage girl would send a famous rock star. She was the assistant to a major benefactor of the charity JC had been volunteering for, her boss had told her about JC and she wanted to meet him because of all the wonderful things he was doing to help her people.

I asked him about it and he said she had insisted he take her picture and yes he had met her because the benefactor had met him at the airport when he landed in Uganda and was acting as a tour guide of sorts while JC looked for more equipment for the farms. I didn’t believe him totally and asked if he was involved with her, did he have sex with her and he denied it all. When he had come back he had been telling me how when the containers got there some of them were empty, and the ones he had left when he came home the first time someone had stolen everything out of them before they got to the farm and he had said that the guy running the farmer’s coop had his own farm and had taken the equipment to his own farm to use and how corrupt he was. He told me the guy’s son had used pages out of JC’s bible to roll joints.

He stayed with me, we had sex and then one day his laptop is on the counter scrolling through his photos, every few seconds a new photo would flash up on the screen and then a photo of him flashed up. It was of him sitting on the edge of the bed with no shirt on and in the foreground are the naked knees of whoever took the picture. I felt like being sick. He had red marks all over his back when he came home that he said he got from being attacked by bees while making roads in Sudan, in the picture he had the same red marks; so obviously he had seen this woman just before he came home. He denied anything and everything, A few days earlier I had seen a picture in his truck of a very young black girl with a sweet round face and innocent smile, she looked to be about 16 maybe, I asked about her and he said she was the daughter of one of the farmers. His mother kept saying he had to go back to Sudan and I asked why she would want him to go back, if he got malaria again it could kill him and she didn’t answer me.

As time went by every few weeks I would get a little more information. This is the story I eventually pieced together. She had been with the benefactor guy and a few other people who were all traveling together and the benefactor had gotten jealous of JC and this woman, Bridget; getting along and he had left her stuck there. JC said everyone left except her and him so he had gotten a hotel, what else could he do? He said they had sex one time and then she refused to have sex again because she is Christian and it is wrong to have sex and not be married. Right away I thought, “She is seeing you as her ticket out of Africa.” I said, “So she was a virgin?” He said no. I asked, “Did you use protection.” He refused to answer. He said that he couldn’t leave her there alone; she told him that the old guy was always asking passes at her and she was afraid of him. JC said they went to the pastor there to see what they thought of the two of them traveling together because he wanted to take her back to the farm with him; they told him they should be married. So he proposed and had two rings made, hers with his name on it and his ring with her name on it. He said they traveled together for a while and then she went back to the benefactor because he had apologized. JC’s story got rather confusing, but I gather he did a lot of traveling without any security and was building roads not fixing machinery. He told me the farmer in charge of the coop farm told a bunch of lies about him and he had to literally flee the country, laying in the back of a jeep. He said he didn’t have time to see Bridget before he left and went straight to the airport.
I didn’t believe him
He kept saying that if I knew the truth I wouldn’t be upset but he wasn’t telling me the “truth” I told him it was over, I couldn’t handle any more lies and I wanted him gone. He left and then that night I was woken up by the sound of his truck running in my driveway. I ignored it and even fell back to sleep for a bit and then woke up an hour later and he was still out there with his truck running. I went out to tell him to go away but when I saw him I knew he was really sick. He was shivering and sweat was pouring off of him. He said he was having a Malaria attack. I took him inside and put him in my bed and for the next 2 days nursed him. He was sweating so bad he soaked through the mattress cover by morning, so I changed the bedding and tried to get him out of bed to take him to the hospital but he refused, he had a wrist band on from the hospital and he said they didn’t do anything and just kicked him out. He was delirious, so I stayed with him for two days until the fever broke. I was devastated. Here I had to nurse him, fearing he might die and all the while knowing he had been with another woman. I called his Sechelt mom and her begged her to please come and get him but she wouldn’t so I was stuck with him. I was still so in love with him and having to nurse him, fearing he might die I thought I would explode from the intense pain I felt.

When he came out of the fever he was weak and I let him stay for a couple of days but told him he had to go as soon as he was able. Well he didn’t leave and I ended up paying him to do a few jobs with me and after a while we started to get romantic again, he was doing nice things for me, we were getting along really well, like old times and slid back into a relationship until I checked his emails and text messages and found out he was back in the personal ads and he had been writing and texting Bridget saying he loved her and was planning on bringing her to Canada AND that he had tried to go back to me but the feelings just weren’t there any more. His Edmonton mom was communicating with her, so she must have known all about this and never said a word to me about it knowing how much I loved JC. I said as much to JC and he said his mother and Bridget only talked about scriptures. I talked to his mom about Bridget and she told me not to worry, that it had only been a one night thing and Bridget wasn’t thinking JC was going to marry her, but the emails between him and her were very loving and most definitely talked about their future together. You can’t tell me that a girl in Uganda is thinking a man is bringing her to Canada and she is talking to his mother and doesn’t say anything about it. I was very confused. His mother was very insistent that he come to Edmonton and meet with CB and “straighten things out”, so JC finally conceded and flew to Edmonton where he was to meet with CB and go the Centre for Infectious Diseases. I was rather surprised he even came back from Edmonton because I made it clear it was over. I have no idea what the meeting was about, his mother, CB, his mother’s pastor and JC were there. JC told me it was because he informed CB that the guy running the farms was ripping the charity off and all the funds were going into his own farm. JC told me that the guy running the farming coop had been telling lies about him saying he was ripping off the charity. He said he got a cheque for $10,000 for his tools he said got stolen. I knew JC was hiding something but also knew that he would just tell me more lies and anyway and I just wanted him to go away.

I would make him leave at the same time I did when I went to work and when I got home he’d be sitting in the driveway waiting for me. He tried to be nice and loving but I was determined it was over, when I found his text to her saying I love you I miss you, will try to call later. Later when he told me he loved me I brought up the text he had sent and called him a liar. He denied that he was lying and I said, “Well you’re lying to some one, me or Bridget, which one is it?” He had said, “You don’t know the things she says, it’s hard to stop talking to her.” I read one of her letters and I can see why he was hooked because she was so phony. “Oh my love, I miss you so, I walked for an hour to get to a computer to send you a message. I don’t have long because I have to go back to the orphanage and care for the poor orphans. The only thing that keeps me going is knowing you are coming back to get me my love.” He eventually admitted he had gone to her place before he left and given her his guitar and tools to keep for him or sell if she needed to, a few days after he left the police showed up at her door and demanded everything of JC’s that she had. So obviously, everyone knew they were a couple.

I didn’t allow him to move in with me, but as was his typical m.o. he edged his way in and was using my garage to store some stuff, and basically living out of his truck. It was hard to tell but it seemed to me he wasn’t short any tools for someone who had shipped all of his to Sudan, I asked him about it and he hadn’t given me an answer other than, “You know me, I always have more tools than I need.”

He got a job in Red Deer Alberta, left without saying good bye and sent on email saying he thought it was better to end it this way., After he left I went into the history on my computer and found out he’d been in Ashley Madison, POF, Fling and other dating sites, just for the hell of it I tried going into his POF through History and to my amazement it let me into his account. I went into his Favorites and he was telling about 10 women exactly the same thing; that he had a “gut feeling” that they were going to have something special and he always follows his gut feelings. So I sent them all each other’s emails and the ones that seemed the most serious I sent a personal message. A few months after he left I was contacted by a nonprofit company that arranges shipping for containers going to third world country with donations; he asked me if I could remove a big tank from one of their containers. Turns out it was a container going to Sudan, and the person (JC) who loaded it had put this tank in there and it still had about a foot of oily sludge in it. JC knows damn well it would get refused he has been in transportation ½ his life and it is against all environmental and security regulations to ship anything with liquids in it. When they opened the doors to the container I was shocked, it was all but empty, there was nothing of value in it; maybe a couple thousand worth of stuff certainly not $14,000 worth. I heard from a reliable source that he had total access to the container and he must have cleaned it out before he left, knowing it would never get shipped and he would just think of some lie when it didn’t arrive in Sudan.

I moved into the trailer that my parents had offered to finance for me so I would have security and started to accept dates and life was good until the economy tanked and my folks said they were selling the trailer. Two weeks after they told me I had to get out of the trailer JC called saying he had been given 6 months to live, that was December 2008. He was crying, oh how he loved me etc etc. he promised total fidelity, I was all the woman he would ever need yada yada yada……..

He had just bought a semi and was doing long haul from Alberta to BC and came out full of promises and commitments, crying and literally begging for another 2nd chance. He dedicated that song, “Say what you need to say” to me and promised no more lying, even if he thought I’d be angry he would tell me the truth. I said that is all I can ask. I told him all communication with Bridget had to stop and the personal ads had to stop and he agreed. He even went so far as to say he knew it had been wrong of him and we agreed to leave the past behind and start new, I agreed to never bring up the past again as long as he didn’t repeat the past. We also agreed that he wouldn’t be expected to maintain my work truck and I would pay for my own repairs but if that was the case then he was not to drive my truck either. I had been maintaining my truck fine while he was gone, business was picking up because I had been written up in the Province Newspaper Financial Section.

He was VERY sincere and even apologized to my son who believed him and made a real effort to show he forgave him. Anyway this is where this whole blog started and you pretty well know the rest of the story except the parts I didn’t know. A few months after we got back together and I was out of the trailer and dependent on JC I discovered he was still writing Bridget, I was very angry and asked him what the hell he wanted, did he love this young woman, and he said, “No he didn’t.” I said, “Then why are you telling her you love her and are bringing her to Canada?” He said, “Do you know the kind of life she leads? I was brightening her day.” I can’t believe I tried to explain to him that he was leading her on and preventing her from meeting some man that would get her out of Africa. I couldn’t believe he didn’t see that all he was to her was a ticket out of hell. She is a 21 year old woman in Uganda who apparently volunteers at an orphanage and has no money whatsoever but she can afford to have photos professionally taken? She has them plastered all over the internet and in Facebook, High 5 and other social media sites and the only friends she has are men from foreign countries. I asked him if he didn’t realize that by having unprotected sex with her he took the chance of ruining her life perhaps even endangering her life because I am sure women having sex with white men is not highly thought of there. He just gave me the blank stare.

I still had a gnawing in my stomach that I hadn’t gotten the full story but have told myself it didn’t matter he was out of my life now, but when I get a “feeling” I am seldom wrong and tend to get a bit obsessed until I get to the truth. I am still in the dark on a few things but here are the facts as I now know them after the info I got 2 weeks ago.

The young girl in the photo is the daughter of the Sudanese farmer who is running one of the farming coop, JC got the young girl pregnant (probably the first time he was there) and then came back boasting Bridget on his arm and a ring on his finger. He was run out of there and CB the head of the charitable organization cut him off any more money and left him to rot in Africa. JC called his mother in a panic and she in turn called CB and begged him to fly her son home; which he eventually did; but he didn’t make it easy and didn’t supply an escort. JC had to make it to the office, get his money and get to the airport on his own which I gather was a bit scary because he had the bad guys (Lord’s Resistance Army) and the good guys (the Sudanese people) and the Sudanese police gunning for him. He ended up at Bridget’s and left some of his things with her and promised he’d be back for her and got on a plane home. A couple of days later the father of the young girl and the police were at her door looking for him and took anything he left with her.

I am assuming CB was beside himself, he is highly regarded in the Christian community and his charity is very well known, for years he has tried to help the people of Sudan and he has very wealthy followers that make it all possible. If word got out that one of his volunteers impregnated a young girl (child) his whole charity could be destroyed along with his own reputation and other ventures.

I am also guessing that the meeting had to do with this young woman and I think JC promised he would go back and do the right thing but needed money to replace his tools so he could work. That is why his mother was so adamant that he had to go back. It answers the question of why he would lie about having Malaria and was dying; it gave him a plausible excuse for not going back. I had gotten suspicious about the Malaria because he had said he went to the center for infectious diseases in Edmonton and that is who told him he had 6 months to live. Every time he had an attack out here he had a hard time getting proper medication and they had to do blood tests etc. I had said to him, why don’t you get your medical records sent out here so we don’t have to go through this every time? He had said he would but never did, also he never talked about it after the first time he told me. Someone who has been given 6 months to live would tell people, would want to talk about it you would think. I had said once to him that he didn’t seem to be very concerned about being told he had 6 months to live; (I on the other hand was researching Malaria and looking for cures, naturopathic remedies etc and he didn’t seem the least bit concerned) his reply was that he had been told before he wasn’t going to live and had survived, if it was his time it was his time and there was nothing he could do about it. When he got with “M” she made him go for a complete physical because she had just lost her husband to cancer. (I guess if JC would have been sick she would have dumped him? now that’s love for ya) anyway as miracles do happen JC got a perfect bill of health, even his high blood pressure problems were gone, no signs of malaria. (See she is an amazing woman, she even healed him) I also found it strange that he put his volunteer work down on his resume and every dating profile he had but he never mentioned the name of the charity and when I did up a flyer and mentioned I had donated to the charity he made me take the name of the charity out, now I know why. The charity has a monthly newsletter online and JC had been mentioned numerous times in glowing terms and then when I went back a few months later to see if him leaving was mentioned any reference to him had been removed and CB had put, “Beware of smiling faces.”

Since I found out about the young girl 2 weeks ago I have been filled with such anger, disbelief, horror, distain, sadness, …….. Such a flood of different emotions I can hardly breath some time
When I found out about Bridget I had said to JC that there were so many things wrong about what he did I couldn’t even begin to explain, now, …….now knowing what I know …………… I want to pound on him and scream at him, “What gave you the F’n right? You bottom feeding, scum of the earth, asshole, who the F do you think you are, ruining people’s lives without a second thought and just keep using women.” But I know it would have no impact on him except if “M’ was there and then it would only be a concern that he was going to lose his gravy train and he would just call me a psycho bitch anyway. I want to write his mother, his Christian mother who reassured me there was nothing between him and Bridget and didn’t think I had a right to know he had impregnated a young girl in Africa and she was encouraging him to go back and “do the right thing” did she not think that it was the “right thing” to tell me!! That maybe I shouldn’t believe that he loved me and wanted to marry me and that maybe me moving to Sask with him wasn’t in my best interest. Did she not think that saving a woman from financial and emotional ruin was more important than keeping her son’s dirty little secrets? Is God going to forgive her for her lies? No wonder when, after 10 years of her and I talking on the phone and emailing, we finally met face to face she could barely look me in the eye. I told myself she was shy, I blamed myself, maybe she didn’t like me after all, I thought maybe she wanted JC to be with Bridget, I knew something was wrong but couldn’t put my finger on it and now I know it was because she was lying to me and it was a lot easier on the phone than in person. I try to not be too angry with her, I know she was trying to protect her son and thinking she was doing the right thing, and I don’t want to judge her or be “holier than thou” But damnit, if it was my son stringing a woman along and I knew she was deeply in love with him I would tell her the truth, I would make y son tell the truth, I would not be an accomplice. I know too though that he has manipulated her for almost 50 years and I feel sorry for her. See? Such a cacophony of emotions.
There are so many things so wrong about this story it boggles my mind, only a truly sick individual would not have known what he was doing was wrong, let me break it down for you;
He went as a volunteer/missionary representing a world renown Christian Organization (he had used his father’s good name to get the position because his father had thought very highly of CB and sent a lot of money to the charity over the years and he received Christmas cards etc from CB’s organization) and with no regard for the reputation of the charity or the head of the organization or the well being of the girl has sex with a teenage girl.
He abused the trust being associated with the organization automatically gave him.
He stole from the charity
I donated ½ a container of farm implements because I had done a couple of farm cleanups right at the time he was loading his containers. I gave rakes, shovels, hoes, scythes, etc that I found out later he billed them for.
He pressured them for a wage after getting there as a volunteer and then blackmailed them into giving him more money.
He got a young girl pregnant and deserted her, basically sentencing her to a life of poverty and ruining her chances of ever even having a Sudanese husband because she has an illegitimate ½ white baby, and no man from another country will want her and her baby, so she has two options, keep the baby and they both suffer in poverty for the rest of their lives or put the baby in an over crowded, under-funded orphanage and try to hide the fact that she even had a baby. The same orphanage I donated crates of clothes and toys to because JC told me how destitute they were.
He lied to and strung along another young lady and had sex with her also and continued to lie to her about bringing her to Canada for 3 years, count them, three years!! Who knows maybe he is still lying to her. Son-of-a-bitch, bottom feeder.
It just so happens that a new fellow started at Amix a couple of months ago and he works the gate, he is a very nice young man from Uganda. Thoughts about what would happen to this young girl plagued me for days, would she be stoned even? I don’t know what repercussions there are for an unwed mother in these countries, so I asked if I could talk to him for a minute and I told him briefly what JC had done and asked what would happen to the girl. He told me that people are either rich or dirty poor there, especially in Sudan and that a lot of the young girls have sex with the men from other countries in hopes the men will fall in love with them and take them out of Africa. He said that any man from another country has women coming onto him from every direction but he said most men realize what is going on and stay clear, he personally had never heard of a 40 something white man getting a girl pregnant, they are usually smarter than that. He said NO ONE with any sense has unprotected sex in Africa.
He said that if the man doesn’t claim the child as his then having that child has sealed the girl’s fate and she will live the rest of her days in poverty in Sudan and hopefully the LRA won’t kill her because she is a Christian, if she was Muslim then she could be stoned for having sex and not being married.
So that is what has been on my mind lately. I have fought the urge to write his mother telling her how disappointed I am in her and the damage being with JC and her collaborating his lies has done to so many women and now she is standing by while he bleeds a widow of the inheritance her loving husband provided for her.
In my mind if you see a crime or injustice being done and you do nothing to stop it you are as guilty as the person doing the deed. What do you think? If it was your son or daughter doing something so wrong would you lie for them? would you let more people be hurt by them?

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck

The Perfect Little Family

I was beyond ecstatic for a few weeks and wore maternity clothes almost immediately, I wanted everyone to know I was pregnant; I wanted the cutest maternity outfits.

Then the paranoia set in and I was afraid I might miscarry. Every possible thing I could worry about I obsessed about, the doctor even gave me an ultrasound in hopes of calming my fears but it only worked for a few weeks and then I was obsessing again. If the baby didn’t kick often enough I feared it was dead inside me, I obsessed about it being deformed because I had smoked and drank before I knew I was pregnant, and then there was my obsession with my weight. Having been anorexic prior to getting pregnant and then eating like a horse once I found out I was pregnant I gained a phenomenal amount of weight very quickly. I was 135 lbs when I got pregnant and 207 lbs when I went into labour. The motorcycle club had a pool going to see who could guess my weight when I finally went into labour. Victor would come home to find me on the bed crying, he’d say, “You looked in your closet again didn’t you?” and he would hop on his bike and come home with a new maternity outfit.

One day while I was working I was away from my wicket and when I returned there was a vase on the counter with one single rose in bloom and single rose bud and the card said, “One for you and one for the baby. With all my love Victor.” He never once made me feel fat or unattractive, even when I got stuck in our water bed and couldn’t roll myself out of bed he never even hinted at making fun of me. (Smart man)

It was November and I had been told I could have the baby any day and the baby’s room still wasn’t done, Victor was planning on going hunting in a couple of days and we were arguing. I said you aren’t going any where until that baby’s room is done (you never told Victor what to do unless you wanted the exact opposite thing to happen but my hormones were talking) and he said he’d do it when he got back. I was at the stove frying hamburger, holding the frying pan with my right hand and stirring with my left as he walked past the kitchen door heading to the bedroom. Before I knew it; almost like an out of body experience I flung the frying pan in his direction. The frying pan hit the wall in the hallway taking a chunk out of the wall and narrowly missing him. Hamburger flew every where, I burst out crying and Victor poked his head slowly from around the corner of the doorjamb not sure if something else would come flying in his direction. Victor went into the bathroom and started a bubble bath for me, guided me into the bathroom and told me to relax, he scraped up the hamburger from the walls and floor washed the floors and wall and ate it the hamburger swearing it was delicious (good thing I was obsessive about keeping my house clean). The next day he did the baby’s room before he went hunting.

A few weeks before I gave birth Victor had been at the legion drinking and wanted to take his opened half bottle of wine home with him but the bouncer wouldn’t let him and he had punched the guy, breaking his jaw. I had been furious and we called the guy offering to pay whatever he needed as long as he didn’t press charges; luckily the guy was decent enough, we paid his dental bill and nothing more came of it. Victor promised me he would quit drinking.

The other issue we had was that he never was faithful; he just could not pass up the opportunity to screw another woman. It bothered me terribly, every time he went out with his buddies I never knew if he was with another woman or not. He didn’t have affairs, I’m sure he never saw the women again, it was when he was drinking and he told me once that he just couldn’t pass up a new pussy. He didn’t know what he thought he’d be missing.

As strange as it may sound to you although it upset me terribly and we had many fights over it, I never felt he didn’t love me or that it was my fault in any way or that I wasn’t attractive. He wasn’t like JC, he never blamed me for his infidelity, and he always took responsibility.

I never slept until he got home, but when I heard the door I would pretend to be asleep, he would come to the bedroom door way and watch me sleeping. One night he said,” I really do love you you know, I am so sorry.” While I was pregnant I am sure he didn’t screw around, although I did get jealous one time when I came home just in time to pick him up for prenatal classes and I walked in to a houseful of people and a woman on his workout bench with her legs spread and his face 6 inches from her crotch. Victor did tattoos on the side and the woman wanted a black widow spider coming out of the hair down there. Here I am feeling like a beached whale and he’s down there tattooing; well I guess you can imagine how well that went over.

I finally went into labour on December 20th 1983; because I had been in labour so long with my first pregnancy I didn’t want to go to the hospital until I was really ready. When Victor came home from work that day I told him I’d been in labour all day and he wanted to go to the hospital immediately but I told him to order a pizza because the minute this baby was born I was going on a diet. He wanted sex one last time because he knew I wouldn’t be having sex for a month or so after having the baby. I am sure having sex sped up the labour pains because we didn’t even finish and I said we have to go to the hospital now. I left the house with a piece of pizza in my hand and we arrived at the hospital at 8:15 pm. The nurse checked me and said I wasn’t dilated at all and it was going to be all night. Victor rolled his eyes and she said he should go home and get some rest and they would call when I got closer. I told him not to go; there was no way it was going to take that long. As with my first baby the contractions didn’t come regularly and they had to break my water, I kept telling the nurse the baby was coming and she kept telling I wasn’t near ready; my doctor was at a wine and cheese party and she didn’t want to bother him. They had quite a busy night with babies being born and there was a lull, the nurse said she’d wheel me into the delivery room to give me a change of scenery. I wasn’t in the delivery room more than 5 minutes and I said, “The baby is coming, I have to push!” Victor whipped my slippers off and put my feet in the stirrups the nurse was saying, “Don’t push, don’t push!!” I said, “This baby is coming now, someone had better get over here.” Just then the doctor ran through the door with his arms outstretched and they put the gown on him as he came through the door, he got to me just in time to catch the baby as I gave one more push.

Victor gave me the blow by blow description of the birth, “There’s the head, there’s the back, there’s the bum, there’s the balls, IT’S A BOY!!!”

Kris was born at 10:20pm. and weighed 8 lbs 1 ½ ozs, he bruised his nose on the way out and Victor and I laughed because he had his dad’s nose. (Victor’s nose had been broken a few times and was kinda flattened out) Kristofer was beautiful, perfect, bald as a cue ball, 10 chubby little toes, 10 chubby little fingers, pink and healthy. I didn’t know it but my family was in the waiting room and they were allowed to come in immediately after Kris was born, while the doctor was still stitching me up. Finally I had what I had been praying for for so long, a healthy baby boy (although a girl would have been just fine with me I did want a boy and Victor although he always said “as long as it’s healthy” wanted a boy, we could have found out the sex of the baby when they did the ultrasound but we didn’t want to know ahead of time.) the nurse had given me something for pain about an hour before because the pain had been so intense and she didn’t think I was going to deliver that night at all, and it kicked in about the same time Kris was born. Everyone left to give me time to rest and there I was wide awake at 10:45pm, all by myself feeling like I was on top of the world, stoned out of my gourd and no one to talk to. I remember saying as everyone was leaving, “Someone bring me a glass of wine, no never mind make it the whole bottle!”

True to his word Victor hardly drank for the next 5 weeks, right through Christmas and New Year’s Eve. I was nervous he would go out and get drunk after he left the hospital but he went straight home and called everyone we knew but he didn’t drink. My mom and dad gave me a gold chain for my wrist with a gold charm of a pair of booties to commemorate Kris’s birth. (I treasured those booties for 27 years, the chain had broken and I had put the booties on a gold chain around my neck and wore them that way for many years until that chain broke and then I put them away for safe keeping along with some of Kris’s baby teeth, his hospital wrist band and other mementos. In 2010 I saw a little silver bullet shaped container for sale at the counter in a gas station and thought it was perfect for keeping the booties in and bought it. I took it home and showed JC how I had put the booties and Kris’s baby teeth in it and put it on my key chain as a good luck charm. Kris had moved away and it was a way of me keeping him close. Around the time JC and I were splitting the silver bullet disappeared off my keychain, I tore the house and truck apart but never found the silver container. I asked JC about it and he didn’t seem to even remember me showing him the container or what I had put in it. After we were split he had me haul his tools from his last job because he had been fired, when we got back to his/our place I went into the music room to warm up and there on the coffee table was the silver container, the latch that held it onto my keychain wasn’t broken and it was empty. I took it out to the fire where JC was standing and asked him where he got it from. He shrugged and said he didn’t know. I said, “This is the container I had Kris’s booties in.” He asked where I found it and I said in the music room, then he said he found it in some of his son’s stuff that Allen left behind when he left so suddenly. He said Allen must have stolen it, you know how he was stealing everything. But I had it after Allen left, he left in May and I know I had it in October when I went to visit my son in Kelowna because I showed it to him. I didn’t argue with JC and just told him that if he came across them I would really like them back. If there was anything in this world that I cherished it was those booties and he knew it and it was his passive aggressive way to hurt me). Sorry I digressed; back to Victor.

He took to fatherhood like a duck to water, he was bathing Kris, changing diapers, and wanted to take Kris every where he went. He’d take the snuggly with him and take Kris to the bike shop, to visit friends, and he’d get up with him in the middle of the night. I wasn’t breast feeding because I wanted to diet and was going back to work after 2 months so it was easy for Victor to go alone. I was the nervous new parent but he was a natural at caring for a baby. The baby would be asleep and I would get up from watching TV with Victor and pretend I was going to the bathroom and I’d hear Victor, “leave that poor kid alone!! He’s fine, don’t you dare wake him up.” Because he knew I was going to sneak in and make sure he was still breathing.

We had gotten a Springer Spaniel puppy that my dad’s pure bred male Springer had sired and even he loved the baby, we had the perfect little family. I really didn’t want to go back to work full time again and leave Kris with a baby sitter all day and Victor and I talked and agreed I would go back part time. In those days you only got 6 weeks maternity leave and in the 5th week I talked to the bank and they agreed to lay me off which would mean I would qualify for unemployment benefits a lot longer and I would only work a day or two a week for the first while.

On Thursday February 2nd, Victor went out and traded my Honda Civic, our old Fargo pickup truck and a holiday trailer my foster brother had given us all on a 1981 Reliant K car and surprised me with it. He said he got it because he didn’t want me driving with the baby in a vehicle that was unsafe, drafty or might leave me stranded. I was thrilled with it, sure it was just a K car but it was burgundy and had velour interior and was the nicest car I had ever had.

On Saturday February 4th, 1984 I went out with girlfriends for a nice dinner and Victor stayed home with Kris and on the Sunday he had plans to go for a motorcycle ride with my dad and a friend, Ken. It was unusually warm for early February and a beautiful day for a bike ride. Victor rode his bike 12 months out of the year, it was an agreement we had, that if he bought a brand new bike it couldn’t be for pleasure only and he said he’d drive it to work and he did almost every day, he had a snowmobile suit for riding in winter and rain gear for the rainy season, full leather pants and jacket, gloves, mitts, full face and regular helmet, he rode in snow, ice any conditions so he was a seasoned rider. On this Sunday he had on his full leathers, riding boots, helmet and leather riding gloves. It was such a beautiful day and I felt a little jealous to be left at home, I loved the motorcycle but it was his day with the guys. After Kris’s nap I put him in his stroller and walked the 2 miles to my mom’s and we drank some wine and sat out side on the patio. She drove me home about dinner time and I mentioned I was concerned the guys were still not home and she assured me they were fine, just enjoying their guy time; but as it got dark I had uneasiness but I couldn’t pinpoint what I was so uneasy about, I knew he wouldn’t be screwing around, not with my dad along. I dozed off lying on the couch with Kris in my arms and around 9:30 woke up with a start. I checked and Victor wasn’t home. I didn’t know whether to be pissed off or worried, it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been late, but the fact that he was with my dad told me to relax I was worrying for nothing. I went to bed and finally fell back to sleep, only to be woken up by the phone ringing at about 11 pm. I had a hard time waking up and the phone seemed to be ringing forever. Finally I answered, “Hello?”

“Is this Mrs. Ouellette?”

“Yes”

“This is Abbotsford Hospital calling, when you come in to visit your husband can you stop at the front desk please, we have some of his belongings here.”

“Abbotsford Hospital? What are you talking about?”

“Your husband was admitted earlier tonight and we have his belongings at the front desk.”

“What do you mean he was admitted, what’s wrong? what happened?”

“I don’t know madam; you’d have to talk to the emergency dept about that.”

“Emergency? Can you put me through please?” my mind was racing, what would he have been doing in Abbotsford? They went to Sumas Washington.

“Just one moment.”

I could feel the panic welling up inside me and I was telling myself to stay calm, it must be some mistake, my dad would have called if something bad had happened. Maybe they parted ways and he went to a bar alone maybe he was in a bar fight and got stabbed or something. I waited for what seemed like an eternity and then realized she must have dropped the call. I wear contact lenses so couldn’t see and in my panic I couldn’t find my glasses, I was shaking so badly I could barely dial the phone but managed to finally get information and they put me through to the emergency ward at Abbotsford Hospital.

“It’s Carrie Ouellette calling, I was just told my husband Victor, was admitted to the hospital tonight.”

“Hold on, I’ll get you his nurse.”

“Hello? Mrs. Ouellette?”

“Yes, what’s going on? What happened to my husband?”

“He’s had a motorcycle accident Mrs. Ouellette and he’s on his way to surgery”

“I am on my way, this is Abbotsford hospital?”

“Yes Abbotsford emergency but, there really is no point in coming down here Mrs. Ouellette, he’s on his way to surgery now and isn’t expected to survive there’s no point in you coming.”

I hung up. Not expected to survive? It must be a mistake. My dad would have called. No, it has to be a mistake, Victor can’t be dying, he has to come home, we just had a baby.

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck

Yes, You Are Pregnant!

I am trying to keep this short, I don’t know why I feel I must share this part of my life, it doesn’t really have anything to do with narcissism, but you know everything that has happened to us in our life makes us what we are today, the good and the bad.

Some things bring us to our knees, some things have us doing a happy dance, some times we feel our feet don’t even touch the ground, other times we don’t know if we’ll make it through the day and all of it teaches us something, or it should. It teaches us something about ourselves, about other people or about the world and no experience is wasted as long as we learn some thing from it. Like it or not it is all part of us and how we deal with the different things that happen to us depends on what happened to us prior to now. Our lives are a series of experiences all connected some how; you can’t remove one experience without it affecting future experiences.

I have said before that I don’t believe that women who get involved with a narcissist are flawed in any way, they aren’t weak and easy targets, the majority of them were strong self sufficient women. I have been really hesitant to write about my past experiences with the baby and stuff because I didn’t want any one out there to read it and think, “Well, it makes sense why she fell victim to a narcissist, look at her upbringing; I had a healthy loving upbringing, I have high self esteem, I would never allow anyone to treat me like that, I am safe.

No one is safe, narcissist’s are chameleons without a conscience; they will find a way to get to even the strongest, most intelligent person. My son was my weakness, my fear of something happening to some one I love was my weakness but I was not a weak person and I guess that is what I am trying to show.. Any way on with the story.

When Victor showed up I believe it was a Wednesday, I still had to work the week so in 2 days Victor sold all my furniture, and early Saturday morning we shoved everything I owed in my Honda Civic and drove straight through to Borden Ontario so we could start work on the Monday. I went with the attitude that it was an adventure and if it didn’t work out I would at least see another part of the country and I was young enough to go home and start over. Victor and I were there a year, spending as much time as possible in Quebec with his family and my brother and mother both came out for a visit at different times in that year. Victor was always very welcoming with my family and his family welcomed me with open arms.

Quebec was a real culture shock for me. This was at a time in the late 70’s early 80’s when Quebec wanted to separate and some of Victor’s friends were angry he was with an English Canadian, some businesses wouldn’t even try to talk to me, many of their laws were different, and it was like a foreign country. At that time in BC you couldn’t drink on a Sunday unless you bought dinner in a restaurant and it was before beer and wine stores. In Quebec people took their children into the bars, drank 7 days a week and could buy booze in the grocery store any day of the week.

Growing up my dad used to accuse me of doing drugs and being promiscuous, I got in trouble for smoking and hanging around with the “wrong” crowd and basically because I got pregnant I had disgraced the family. The truth be known I never even tried smoking a joint until I was well into my 20’s, was not a slut and was quite a prude. I wore conservative outfits, I never went out without my makeup done, and never left a dirty dish in the sink or a faucet not shone. There were no grey areas in my life, everything was right or it was wrong; there was no in between. Victor and I were like the Lady and the Tramp; from two different worlds but there was an appeal to the carefree life he led. Victor wasn’t encumbered by worrying about what people thought; that is not to say he didn’t worry about hurting someone because he did; there is no way he was a narcissist, he was kind and generous and genuine; he had a zest for life, he grabbed life with both hands and LIVED it; …….. Every second of it. Whereas I was spending my life being afraid; of being judged, criticized, or rejected, I didn’t even know what I wanted out of life if my parents didn’t tell me. I thought I knew, until I met Victor. As much as I had my hands full dealing with Victor living life to the fullest, he had his hands full dealing with my narrow mindedness; we clashed a lot.

Victor dabbled with drugs and every time he did I would get spitting angry, he drank to oblivion, and partied hard, but his whole family did. They didn’t even own a coffee pot and started the day with a beer. At Christmas I was mortified that his mother cooked a full turkey dinner and no one came to the table to eat it and just picked at it throughout the night. Some people didn’t even get their tree up before Christmas, I called my mother in tears, it was all so “unChristmaslike” for me and I missed home terribly. When I cooked while I was there I demanded people come to the table and eat. I told his father, “If I can go to the trouble of cooking you a meal the least you can do is come to the table and eat it.” He said something to Victor in French and he laughed; Victor said his dad liked my spunk.

When I look back, I was very young, only 22-23 but I had very definite ideas of how a relationship should work; the roles of a man and a woman in the relationship and they were pretty stereotypical. The woman cleaned, cooked and the man did the outside yard work and fixed the vehicles. We lived on base so army was our life, all our friends were army and most of our entertainment took place on base. The army almost promoted infidelity. Every Friday night was a “smoker” for army personnel only, no wives or girlfriends until 9 pm.
They would barbeque steaks and get pissed, by the time I got there at 9 Victor would be 3 sheets to the wind or passed out. I remember one night in a club on base there was a group of us sitting at a table and the husband ½ of a couple we socialized with a lot was sitting two chairs down from me. I didn’t know the woman sitting beside him but ½ ways through the night I realized she was giving him a hand job under the table. I was disgusted, mortified, shocked, wanted to go home and puke.

Victor got out of the army a year after we moved to Ontario and I went ahead BC to get a job, a place for us to live and to plan our wedding. We got married Aug 28, 1981, our wedding is a post in itself and maybe someday I will tell you about it, here’s a clue………every time I hear the Glen Campbell song, “Someone Left My Cake Out In The Rain” I think of my wedding.

Victor embraced my family and our traditional Christmas’s, Thanksgivings and birthdays; as much as he was a free spirit he truly loved my family and my family loved him. Not ever having that when he was going up he was almost childlike in his enthusiasm for anything to do with family, I learned how to cook French Tourtiere and made it every Christmas until just a couple of years ago and I always gave Victor 4-6 pies and he would give me wild meat to go in it. Even though Victor’s father had been a hunting guide for a portion of his career he never taught Victor how to hunt. My dad was an avid hunter and was more than happy to teach him.

When we were back east I started to let my hair down a little bit, long before the movie “Dirty Dancing” came out Victor was doing it. God he could dance, he is the only man I’ve ever seen jive with 3 women at once and not miss a step. He loved to dance and I grew up dancing at home, both my parents loved to dance. I can remember standing on my dad’s feet as he whirled me around the living room dancing, even as an adult I used to love doing an old time waltz with my dad. Him being 6’3” ish and me 5’10” ish our one arm outstretched and his other arm around my waist guiding me we would glide across the dance floor, our long legs in perfect unison. Unfortunately if we were not careful we would get too close to someone else and lambaste them on the side of the head with our outstretched arms because we were so tall our arms were at the exact height of many of the other dancers. Victor and I were the same height in bare feet and that presented a problem in itself when dancing; he wasn’t used to a woman the same height as him and when he told me to “just relax and let yourself fall I’ve got you” when he dipped me, the idea being I would reach the full extension of my arms and that would help snap me back up; he miss judged the length of my arms and I landed full force on the floor. Then there was the time he had me above his head, I was to remain straight as he held me horizontal above his head and twirled me; that time we took out the ceiling fan in our living room. One thing for sure; every time we danced I fell in love with him all over again. As maddening as he could be and as annoying as I could be with my obsessive compulsiveness we loved each other.

He got on with the Federal prisons, I got back on with the Bank of Commerce, we each had our own sets of friends, mine the conservative group, his the rowdies and then we had our couples friends; when we threw a party there was never a dull moment. We bought a motorcycle and joined the same club I had belonged to a few years prior, we bought a “fixer-upper’ house under foreclosure in 1982 right after the bottom fell out of the real estate market but the mortgage rates were something like 20%. The people had put an addition on the side of it, two bedrooms and a living room but hadn’t removed the wall between the old house and the addition. In true Victor fashion, while I was at work he decided to take his chain saw and cut an archway into the living room. Great idea, but he didn’t measure anything, didn’t check for wiring, and didn’t cover anything with a tarp or even close a cupboard door. There was a fine layer of gyproc dusk over everything.

We put in grass and gardens, poured concrete in the back for a patio and settled in as proud home owners and newly weds, there was only one thing missing ……… a baby. Every month I agonized when I got my period and I still had to go every 3 months for another pap smear and the results were always the same; not good. Then one month I was late, I did a home pregnancy test and it came out positive. Back then they couldn’t say you were positively pregnant until you were 6 weeks and the next 2 weeks were a living hell until I got confirmation; Yes, you are pregnant!!

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck