My Memoir updated

My Memoir
Hello my name is Elora. I am a 38 year old recovering addict who happens to have schizophrenia. I am writing this for me to let out everything I carry with me daily. I just experienced my second psychosis due to marijuana use. Was 4 months of scary confusing thoughts that were delusional and very bizarre. Lets start at the beginning.

Born Tuesday August 7, 1984 at 12:48pm by Joanne and
Tom. I was planned my parents were married for 3 years before I came along. I was a happy baby and had a good childhood until the trauma of my parents divorce in 1990 when I was 6 years old. I went to live with my Dad, he got full custody. My Mom got to see me every other weekend. My parents divorced so my Mom could live authentically. She is a gay woman who married a man to be accept by her family.

This confused me and later I disliked my Mom because her life to me was more important then being my Mom. I felt like Mom abandoned me and was told she left us for a woman. All I remember was I wanted my Mom but she wasn’t there anymore. My Dad and I lived with my grandparents and my Great grandfather. My Dad worked and my grandma would watch me. My Dad left me for my Nama to raise. I was always with her. She became like my Mom. There everyday caring for me. Started to feel unwanted and that I didn’t matter to my parents. They were to busy working and living their lives. We continued to live with my grandparents until I moved out when 17.

My grandparents my Dad’s parents spent most times with me and my More Papa my great-grandfather. See when I was a child I couldn’t say great grandpa so I said More Papa and grandpa was Papa and grandma was Nama. Those were the people I spent most my time with mainly Nama. Life was good, I played in the backyard with More Papa playing toll bridge on my little red tricycle. I had a swing Papa built me. We lived in Redington Beach Florida on the inter-coastal. I loved it there. My childhood home. We had two schnauzers my Nama’s Dusty and mine Zack. Named him Zack from Saved by the Bell. Had a huge kid crush on him. And Casper my all white cat who would go on walkabouts and come home a gray blackish color.

I was young but felt love from my Nama and Papa and More Papa. I didn’t realize until later that my family situation wasn’t normal. All my friends whos parents divorced their Mom had full custody. So me living with Dad but barely ever seeing him wasn’t normal for most kids whos parents divorced.

Living situation was the 5 of us plus the cat and 2 dogs. We lived in a 2 bedroom house. 2 bedrooms, sitting room, living room, kitchen and bathroom. I slept on a cot in my grandparents room, More Papa slept in his room and my Dad slept in the sitting room. I’m 7 and now my More Papa is sick and in the hospital .I’m scared because I don’t understand death just been told he is going to a better place. A place of peace with no pain. More Papa was my best friend we would spend hours together playing make believe. I have always had a very vibrant imagination. We go visit him and I say my goodbyes. This is my first experience with death. I was worried for him because he was hooked up to machines. Shortly there afterwards he passed on. Now my best friend is gone and I’m very sad. More Papa brought me so much joy. He bought my first fishing rod. We would fish everyday off the dock. He couldn’t see to well so it was my job to clear the floor of all the dog toys and balls so More Papa wouldn’t trip. I felt very alone after he passed.


Now my Dad and I move into my More Papa room. We shared a room for a time. During this time I don’t have very many memories. For most my life I felt that maybe something happened to me. That my Dad may have done something inappropriate with me. I know one day I came home from school and a porn was left in the VCR. I knew things about sex a young kid shouldn't know. My Dad worked a lot and I spend time with my Nama mainly. We go and spend weekends at our trailer. Papa would go up first then we would meet him there. I had fun riding my bike and visiting neighbors properties visiting cows and horses. I always talked to animals and felt a connection with them. I am a big animal lover. I didn’t have very many friends my age so played alone most times me and my imagination.

So time goes by and I am 8 this is when Dad introduced me to the woman he has been seeing. Tracy is very kind to me but I am jealous because she is getting most of my Dad’s attention.They become serious and now I’m a flower girl in their wedding. I’m happy and excited because I’m going to be a big sister to a boy, Thomas, and girl, Kiara, twins. We all move into together and live as a family. I enjoy it because I feel like I have a family again. So she is ready to have the babies. They are born premature and have issues ones lungs aren’t fully developed and the other has heart problems. When they come home and tell me, we are all sad a grieving . I was very upset with the lose of my brother and sister. This is my second experience with death and I’m not coping well. I turn to food to comfort me. I’m still growing and would pug out then have a growth spurt and even out. I believe I was 8. A few months later she becomes pregnant again. We spend time together shopping for the baby and we bond. She is having a baby boy, Dylan, and I am excited but not to excited because I’m concerned I’ll be heartbroken again. This time she has the baby and there are no complications. They bring the baby home and to me we are a happy family. For a 9 year old I help as much as I can with my brother, Dylan. A few months go by and now my Dad moves us back to Nama’s house. He left Tracy and Dylan my baby brother. My Dad asked me what he should do I don’t know I’m 9. I just wanted my Dad’s love and attention. I have spent my life looking for that love I didn’t get as a child.

When I was a kid I thought you only had so much love to give. So with both my parents I would get jealous and upset of their partners. Until I grew up and had my first love understanding we love everyone in different ways. How I love my cat differs from how I love my boyfriend or how I love my Mom.

Growing up I felt like my parents put their lives before mine. I would question why they had me because to me seemed no one wanted me. I’m older now and my Papa is sick. He has a few strokes and is never the same after that. I’m 11 and he is home in the sitting room and my Dad and hospice take care of him. In a few weeks he passes. I loved my Papa he is the man I most respected. He could look at me and I would stop in my tracks and question what I was doing if I had done something wrong. His death affected us all differently. My Dad drank his grief away. My Nama started dating a neighbor and I was left alone with my raging hormones because while Papa was sick my first menstrual cycle started. I was 11. Nama said to hide it from Papa not to tell him. So I didn’t say a word. All alone and home by myself with the 2 dogs and cat. I sit in my room in the darkness crying waiting for someone to come home and make dinner. Dad calls and says he will bring subs home. It’s 8pm and no one is home so I make a grilled cheese for dinner. Dad comes home after 10pm with subs. I put mine in the fridge and go to bed. Some nights I would stay up for my Dad and tell him how I felt. We would argue and sometimes he would smack me or shake me depending on what I said to him. I would pour out his bacardi and put water in it because I didn’t like drunk Dad. I learned the stages of drunkness like when the best time was to ask for something. The frozen look on his face when his eyes were glazed over was the best time to ask for something. If he went past that stage then he would be mean. I always worried about my Dad driving drunk. When we would come home from Sandy’s house he would have his big gulp mug with bacardi and coke and we would play red light green light on the drive home. I would tell him when the lights changed. To me this was normal because this is my everyday life. I think life is about partying and sex.

During these times I would visit with my Mom every Wednesday night and every other weekend. When she dropped me off there was no lights on and no one home. She called the police because she was court ordered to have me home at a certain time. She would say no one is home and they would say yes even so you have to leave her there. So I spent a lot of time alone. I started to act out. I would cry myself to sleep home alone. Very depressed and feeling like I am nothing and no one loves or cares about me. Why wouldn’t I think that no one is here to take care of me or make sure I’m doing my homework. I’m nothing so I start treating myself like I’m nothing. Started smoking cigarettes and talking to boys. By the time anyone noticed I was already smoking weed and had done acid twice and drank alcohol. I was 13. I would cut myself or carve into my skin boys names or redrum. I would burn smiley faces on my arm from the bic lighter. I liked feeling pain I could see and feel instead of emotional pain which was now a constant. Drugs were my answer they made the pain stop for a moment and I felt happy for the time I was high. I started smoking weed as much and as often as I could. Loved marijuana. This was my answer. I didn’t care if I lived or died so I would try lots of different drugs just never needles. Now my Nama and Dad are trying to give me rules. When these past two years I’ve done what I wanted when I wanted to. Laughable to me because the genie is out of the bottle.

During this time Dad takes me to girlfriends houses and they drink and have sex. This new girlfriend has two kids a son and daughter. The daughter and I become close. So now we spend like every weekend there. I’m with Dad there at Sandy’s house. It’s alright because I started a sexual relationship with the daughter. Wanted to experiment and see what it is like to be with a girl. This goes on for 2 to 3 years. One day Sandy’s Mom finds a half smoked joint under the rug in the bathroom. Of course I get blamed for this. Hey I smoke all my weed and don’t go leaving any half smoked anything around. Now one day we are in the car and all 3 us are in the back seat. I’m in the middle. I forget what I said something smart-assy and my Dad slaps me in the face hard enough for my sunglasses to break. A piece just missed my eye. Dad and I argue most the time and if he has been drinking then we actual fight fight with our hands. I’m scared of him and his temper. Another time Bridgette and I are leaving to go meet friends and we happen to see our parents doing it through the window that was open. We run to the park. I get sick and vomit. We meet up with our friends and we decided to go in the bathroom at the park all 6 of us. 3 girls 3 boys and we give the boys blow jobs. I’m 11, this is my firsts sexual experience with a guy and I seem to know what I’m doing because he actually finishes. Bridgette then gives me the nickname Bobbin’ Elora which follows me from middle school to high school. Still known as such to this day with people from my middle school.

Now my Dad and Sandy break up. Dad works then spends his nights and weekends drinking. For a short period in the summer we are going to the beach with friends and Dad is actually spending time with me. One night a school night for me my Dad comes home drunk with a woman. My Nama is down at Jack’s house her boyfriend which mind you she has now told me they are having sex. Anyways Dad and his lady friend are drunk and loud and having sex. I get feed up because I’m trying to sleep which is impossible with this loud noise going on. So I walk down the hall open Dad’s door and yell please shut the fuck up or put a sock in her mouth. Dad storms in my room. Totally naked and erect and demands I go apologize. So I go into his room and tell the woman wrapped in a bed sheet that I’m sorry I’m trying to sleep because I have school tomorrow. That when Dad brings women home and they are drunk it’s just to loud.

To me this just proves I mean nothing. Nama has Jack and Mom has Kelly and Dad has whoever the flavor of the day is. So to me the most important thing in life is your love life. I put lots of energy into finding love. Love is all I ever wanted and I’ll take it any way I can get it and from whoever I can get it from. Once I’m sexually active I believe sex is love and get hurt a lot because no sex is not love. I spend my life looking for that love I longed for from my parents. To feel accepted and like I actually matter. Then my thinking was well if your parents don’t even love you then who else will. So the start of me hating myself and punishing myself starts I’m 11.

One night I want to go out but my friend came to get me and Nama said no I couldn’t go. So I called Dad and cried and manipulated him to get my way. I couldn’t spend time with boys so I would only be allowed to have friends that were girls. No worries I’m smart. My friend who got me is my boyfriends friend and the boys are up the road in the car waiting for us. So we go and have fun. Smoking weed and cigarettes and drinking. I decided to spend the night with him so I don’t go home. This is not the first time I have done something sexual but is the first time my hymen breaks. I’m embarrassed because blood is on me and the bed and him. I believe he loves me. I met him a few weeks ago at the roller rink and he bought me a soda and said I was pretty. We exchanged numbers. He is older and he makes me feel special. I like the attention he gives me. We are in a trailer and rocked it so much that we knocked over the big jug of laundry detergent and it broke open.

The next day in the afternoon I see my Dad’s work van. So I run because I know I’m in trouble and Dad pissed is dangerous because he can be violent. He eventually catches up to me. He pulls me by the hair and throws me in the van and drives back to the trailer. He close friend is there with him and shortly there after the police are there. I tell the police he shouldn’t get in trouble that he was my boyfriend and I wanted to have sex with him. He was 17 and I was 13. Afterwards Dad and I met up with my Mom and a health care facility and I had a rape kit done on me and it was my first pap smear. It was horrible I cried as my Mom held my hand. They took my clothes and hairs from everywhere. Not a good experience. Dad is making me feel like this is all my fault that I knew what I was doing. Mom feels horrible for me because she knows I was victimized. Mind you is all I want is love and I’m looking for it where I can find it. Whatever that looks like.

When we got home to Nama’s house first thing when I walk in Nama slaps me in the face hard. Dad, Nama, Mom and I sit there and talk\ yell at one another. I’m feed up and say I want to kill myself. Honestly I just want out of the conversation. Dad says come with me and we go into his room and he shuts the door. He grabs the 12 gauge shotgun and says if you kill yourself then I’ll kill myself because you are my life. He is holding the gun. He gives me the gun and I give it back to him. I am scared of what my Dad will do with the gun. I am fearful of him because he is a bigger guy 200+lbs and I’m tiny. A few minutes go by while he is holding the gun and we go back out to the living room. I don’t say a word to anyone. I do say I’m going to shower. I shower and curl up into a ball and just cry. I feel dirty and used and I just want everything to end. I have no weed so I can’t get high and have it just go away. Nama called me a dirty whore and Dad is treating me like an adult not a 13 year old. The only one worried about me and not mad at me is my Mom. Mom wants me to go home with her but they won’t allow it.

A few weeks go by and now on my phone I’m getting death threats. The guy who went to jail for statutory rape was in a gang and his gang members are threatening to shot up my house and kill me. I’m stressed. School is hard and people know I was missing. Rumors go around and now I’m consider easy. Guys at school are making stories up about me. That I went to the pool hall and a guy put the 8ball inside me just crazy things that never happened. An investigation takes place and I tell the detective what happened during my stay with my boyfriend and afterwards what happened at home. After the investigation I went to live with my Mom. Dad was deemed an unfit parent because of the situation with the gun. Both Nama and Dad were interviewed.

So I was 13 living with my Mom and her partner. I went to school and tried to make new friends just my reputation followed me everywhere I went. My Mom left her partner and we were living in a one bedroom apartment. I had the room. I’m doing somewhat ok until I make friends with Danielle and then the drugging and guys start up again. It’s easy to lie to Mom because she is clueless when it comes to drugs. One week with my Mom’s work she had to be out of town over night. I took that as an opportunity to have Danielle over and our boyfriends. At this time I was 14 and my boyfriend was 22. I was still partying and having sex. When Mom returned from her work trip we argued. I was at a friends house and didn’t go home for curfew. Mom came and picked me up. In the car on the ride home we argued and Mom said she should just drive the car into a tree and end it for us both. Once back home I walked in the apartment and I was hit from behind. I just reacted and swung and hit my Mom like 8 to 10 times. Once I realized what I was doing I stopped and walked away. The next day the police came to my apartment. Mom did not charge me but she could of because she had bruises on her face from the rings I was wearing when I hit her. The officer said seems you have it pretty nice here with your nails done and what not. He said its either your Mom’s or your Dad’s. Those are your options. Later that day she put all of her things in the bedroom and only gave me my clothes and school books. She took my make-up and my cigarettes and my game boy.

When I came home from school I gathered a few things and ran away. Went to a friends house stayed there a week until the police came looking for me. Then my friends Mom sent me to one of her friends houses to lay low. I was gone for almost two months. Partying and doing what I wanted. I continued to live the life of the party into my 30’s.

Once I came back home to my Mom’s I was rude. When she answered the door I told her give me a fucking cigarette. I forget what she said but shortly there after police officers arrived. They took me to a teen safe house where I spent the night and the next day my Dad came and got me. I was so pissed at my Mom because she had given up on me. Both my parents gave up on me and I just did what I wanted to. Not seeing my actions were a scream for help. By this time no one could tell me anything I would not listen. I just wanted to stay high and be able to be with whichever guy happened to be in my life at the time. I was 14. When Dad picked me up he was so concerned about me being nice to his girlfriend and that she had an older daughter who was just like me. So moving home was at Nama’s new house and she had a room for me and said she knew I’d come home eventually. I went to school but continued to do as I pleased. I was uncontrollable I just wanted to get away from my life. Dad and I would fight and argue. We went and moved in with his girlfriend Kim. On Saint Patrick’s day I stayed out all night because I had alcohol poisoning from drinking a bottle of peppermint schnapps. I thought for sure when I got home I’d be in shit. To my surprise Kim was the only one home in bed with a water-bag on her head. She said I believe you now that Tom is violent he attacked me last night. So I listen to the messages on the machine and its Dad in jail. I get a hold of his best friend and we go to the bank and I get out his money for bail and we go bail him out. A 14 year old bailing her Dad out of jail. How exciting. Things then ended with Kim fast and Dad and I move back to Nama’s house.

Now 16 and getting in trouble at school and having bad grades I want to drop out. Nama and Dad said if I stay in school and try hard and stop with the partying and boys they would buy me a brand new car. Within a few seconds I said no. So I dropped out in 10th and 11th grade classes, held back for a few courses from the year before. Nama paid for me to go to GED classes and study to take the GED test. It was 2002 and the day of the test I went to visit a friend and we smoked two blunts. I was high as a kite taking the test. To my surprise I just passed low scores but passing marks.

Now with my GED I got a full-time job at Olive Garden starting as a hostess. Within a year I was head hostess in charge of training new host\ess and making the schedule. I meet someone at work and we started dating. Within a year we moved in together. I was 17 and he was 20. This was my first long-term relationship. He was great. I was crazy had a really bad temper. I grew up in a home where we yelled at each other and we would fight as Dad said at times I did deserve it.
So when David and I would argue I would hit him and push him both physically and with my words. We were together 3 and a half years doing a lot of partying ecstasy and weed daily and drinking. All our bills got paid but we started selling drugs so we could afford to continue to use them. While living and working my Nama is now sick so sick she can’t be home alone. Dad can’t afford care so asks me or kinda tells me I’ll be looking after Nama. He did pay me and bought my cigarettes and let me use Nama’s car. I gave two day notice at work taking a leave of absence not knowing when I’d return. At first things go well. Dad goes to work and comes home at a decent time. I’m there with Nama from 6:30am to whenever Dad gets home. So it starts he goes to the bar after work. First its like coming home around 8pm. Ok not so bad I can still do the things I need to do. See David’s mom passed and we can’t afford the 2 mortgages on the house so we are in the middle of packing a 3 bedroom house and having it up for sale. I’m needed at home as much as Nama needs me. A few weeks go by and Dad comes home later and later. I speak with Nama which I have over the years about kicking my Dad out. She always says his my son and I can’t do that. Dad and I have a toxic relationship. I have a hate on for him because he neglected me and abused me. I would fantasize about murdering him. So I explain to Nama I can’t do this anymore and we say our goodbyes. I walk down to the bar which is at the corner just a few blocks away. I tell Dad I’m done and that he’ll have to look after his mother. David comes and picks me up and that’s the last time I saw or spoke with Nama.

My life was just one drama to the next. Chaos was my normal daily life. That happens when you are an addict at this time I didn’t realize I was an addict. Pothead yes but not a drug addict. I left David because I felt he wasn’t loving me the way I deserved to be loved. I went and stayed with friends. At this time I’m 19 and had a different job. Not sure what to do with my life I decided to move to Canada to be close to my grandma my Mothers Mom. She has cancer and has always wanted one of her 5 granddaughters to live close. This guy I have a crush on finds out I’m moving to Canada. We hang out and party for two weeks before I leave during this time I happen to fall in love with him. Chris my new love. At the airport waiting to board the plane Chris and I text and I’m crying not wanting to leave but I promised grandma I make her wish come true. So it’s October 2004 and I fly to Moncton New Brunswick Canada. Mom is there at the airport to pick me up. I visited when I was 16 came to Moncton with David on one of our vacations. Mom moved back to Canada in 1999 after the whole thing of me beating her up and running away. After she called the cops on me and I went to the safe house then to Dad’s we didn’t talk for a few years. We reconnected when she wrote me a letter to let me know she had breast cancer. My grandma and her partner Marion convinced her to write me. I replied and was anger and in so many words told her fuck you because she left me in Florida with Dad. So now I’m living in Moncton with Mom and Marion. Marion's kids are off at school college. It takes sometime but I get 2 jobs one working at the mall at American eagle outfitters and a job at the superstore. I pay my rent to Mom and Marion and work and go to clubs still drinking and smoking weed. Marion argues with my Mom about me smoking weed because Marion is a recovering addict. I keep to myself work my 2 part time jobs. During this time Chris and I have stayed in touch. I visit my grandma and talk with her weekly. My grandpa is a drunk and one day he decided to stop drinking. Grandma calls Mom and Mom knows something isn’t right so we drive out to Shediac to see them. Mom calls an ambulance for grandpa and we take grandma home with us. She needs care. It’s great being home with Mom and grandma. A week or so goes by I’m home with grandma and Mom and Marion are at doctors appointments. Grandpa is there knocking at the door I let him in and he says he is here to take grandma home. He has checked himself out of the hospital early and I can tell he has been drinking. So I call Mom and tell her grandpa is here wanting to take grandma home. Once Mom gets home she fights with grandpa argues but eventually Mom packs up the car and takes them home. Now it is conflict and tension so I no longer go see grandma. Chris and I miss each other and are in love and want to be together. It’s now March 2005 and I save money and plan to return to Florida. Mom doesn’t agree with my decision to move back for a guy. So she won’t drive me to Halifax to fly back down. I arrange for a friend to drive me. It’s April 18th 2005 and I fly home to Florida.

Mind you to me my thinking is the most important thing in life is love your romantic partner and partying. That’s what I live for so of course I will move for love. This is what was taught to me by both my parents. Your own child isn’t even as important as your romantic partner.

I moved back to Florida and arranged living with my friend and her husband and baby girl Arianna my god daughter. At first things were good until her birthday when she wanted me to suck her husband off because she knows I have a reputation of being talented at oral. So afterwards he becomes controlling and won’t allow Chris to talk to me. So of course I chose Chris over my friend and god daughter. I never speak to her again.

Chris and I work at telemarketing company and find a place by renting a hotel room for a month. The hotel room is close to the jail so we get notices of sex offenders staying there makes me uncomfortable so we go somewhere else. Speaking with another couple we all rent a room in a nicer safer place. We have issues because the other couple we are with don’t have sex as much as we do so I slow down. Chris gets upset because he is like you shouldn’t care. Eventually it becomes to much and we go move in with Chris’s parents. Its summer and my birthday passes. Chris’s family is surprised my family doesn’t speak to me. So I decide to write my Dad a letter and I go put it in his mailbox not even sure if he still lives at the old house. A few days later my Dad calls me. We get together and talk.

Our talk goes well and he wants me to move home. I say I will but that my boyfriend has to come with me. So since Nama passed Dad lives in the house but had two of his friends move in. I don’t know but one of them passed so it’s Dad and this coke head woman who lives in my old room. I move in with Chris and we move into my Dad’s old room. Gypsy my Nama’s dog is happy to see me again. We don’t really pay rent. I work and Chris works sometimes and we still party. Dad parties too. We all drink and when I run out of weed I take my Dad’s stash that he has for his lady friend. So at some point Dad gets a notice for foreclosure. We have a few months until we have to move. Dad tries to sell things and what not. He rents an two bedroom house for Chris and I and himself and my dog tank. Deal is I have to pay the bills hydro and water. I do it sometimes but mainly spend my money on drugs and alcohol. Chris isn’t working so it is just Dad and I working. Dad got some money and he bought me a 1994 GT 5.0 Ford Mustang. I love my car. Life is good or for me it is I work I get high everyday and I’m living the way I think I’m suppose to. Dad still goes to the bar and I drink at home with friends watching UFC fights and what not. Chris and I argue and he hits me. Dad sees this and tries to break us up. Dad starts hitting Chris and I start hitting Dad. A week or so go by and Dad and I are at his bar the aging still. I’m 21 and we are sitting there having a beer and Dad says to me this is his fault. That I allow Chris to hit me. That it is because of him and how he was with me growing up. I tell Dad that that is love to me.

Eventually Chris and I move up to north florida in his families property. I’m working part time enough to survive and Chris works day labour once and awhile. On weekends we have friends come up and we party and drink and go mudding on the trails and have good times. I drink like I’m one of the guys but I’m not I’m like 150lbs and 5’7”. Smoking weed daily and pretty much drinking daily. One night the guys Chris Jeff and Matt and I drink an polish off a couple bottles. We drive down to the trail and Matt gets stuck in sugar sand. I go home and get my mustang thinking I can get them out. I get stuck in sugar sand too. Chris yells at me then chases me and mounts me and pounds my face in with my head bouncing off the sugar sand. Once I’m free and able I jump in my car and speed off. I chrip in second gear and hit a power poll. I then get out of the car and Jeff starts fighting me. He is hitting me so I bite his side and run home. I grab tank my dog and run to the neighbors. They take me and tank and rent me a hotel room. I call my Dad and he is out of town at a nascar race. He sends his friend the next day to come pick me up. My face is black and blue and I’m upset.

Once Dad returns from his trip he comes and gets me. We make arrangements to get my things. We go when I know no one is there. Dad wants to kill these guys. I’m now living with Dad and his roommate Jim. Tank and I have our own room and I pay rent to Jim. Chris is trying to get back in my life. He knows where I live and one day when home alone he breaks in. I hide under my Dad’s bed and waited until he left. Sadly I decide to give Chris another chance. I stay living with my Dad and Jim and save to move into a place with one of my friends. Its my Dad’s birthday and I work then go to a bar and get so wasted. The bartender is a friend and takes my keys but he doesn’t know that a pro taught me because I have a second set and continued to drive home. On the way home from what I remember is my front passenger tire blows I sideswipe a car and then hit a house. Cops are there and fire men and they cut the roof of my car off. I am in a ambulance driven into a field where I am met by helicopter and flown to Bayfront hospital. They call my Dad and he meets me at the hospital. I’m so drunk and rude keep screaming I want water. They do surgery then I wake up the next day in the hospital with a very sore left arm it was broken and now I have 3 metal plates and 8 metal screws in my arm. I’m 23 years old I went from having no record to getting 5 charges in one night. 2 DUI’s and fleeing the scene of an accident and marijuana possession and paraphernalia.
Chris came to the hospital and got me. While recovering I went and stayed with Chris and his family. Dad was pissed that I went back to him.

A few weeks go by and I’m now renting a place with my friend Carmel. It’s a decent 2 bedroom apartment. Me her and my dog and her cat. Chris comes over and spends the night. Soon Carmel gets tried of Chris always being there and she moves out. Chris moves in and we live like this for a few years It’s 2008. I have to go to court for my charges. Chris and I still use everyday drinking and smoking weed. I work but get high as soon as I get home. Chris and I arguing and his in the spare room looking at porn. I started humping him and yelling at him. He stands up out of the computer chair and pushes me up against the wall. Pushes me so hard that my left wrist breaks. We live across the street from a hospital I tell him to go get a wheelchair. I drink a tilt 8% alcohol and smoke a bowl. Chris is there he helps me down the stairs to the wheelchair and we go to the hospital. They ask how I broke my wrist I said falling off the bed playing with my dog. Covering for Chris like the idiot I am. By now I have battered women's syndrome and I think abuse is love. I get through court and go to jail for 7 days and I’m put in the med ward because I have a cast and it’s consider a weapon. After being released I get home and now have a alcohol monitor that my Dad is paying for or I would have had to spend 90 days in jail. Dad knew I couldn’t do that so he helped me. I went back to work and slowly paid off my fines. Chris wasn’t working still and I was begging and pleading for him to help me with all the bills and fines and everything I had on my plate. A year goes by and Dad calls and needs me to bail him out of jail. I’m only paycheck to paycheck so I can’t bail him out. He gets out 3 weeks later and the day he gets out comes to stay with me and Chris. We have dinner and drinks and I go to bed because I wake up at 5:30am to get ready for work. It’s the middle of the night like 2 or 3am and I use the bathroom. I hear porn mind you my computer is in my living room. It’s my Dad watching porn and jerking off as I’m in the bathroom. Ok ok you just got out of jail spending 3 weeks there but I mean you couldn’t even pause it and stop while I use the bathroom. I leave the bathroom and lose my shit. I yell at Dad telling him he doesn’t respect me or my home. That he needs to get the fuck out of my house right now. That is the last time I saw my Dad.

I’m full of rage towards both my parents towards myself like I look at my life and don’t understand how I got here. I’m 25 and I work my ass off to pay for me and Chris and Tank my dog. I feel like Chris is my kid because I have to support him. I have resentment for everyone. Mom and I are speaking but I’m not honest with her about how bad things are or my daily drug use. I hate life and have to do something soon.

Chris and I argue and fight and police come to our places 3 times in less than a month. The last time they came they said next time could be you leaving in a body bag. So I had enough. I quit everything my job stopped paying bills and told Chris it’s his turn. Prove to me you love me and you support us this month. He couldn’t. We argue and I call his Mom and say you can have him back I’m done taking care of him. I call my Mom in fear of my life because Chris is the type if I can’t have you then no one can. I get my things in order and pack a whole 2 bedroom apartment into 2 large suitcases. Tanks flight is a week before mine. Friends come pick me up and help me get what I need so Tank can travel. Mom was great she sent me money and paid for the flights. I’m alone now Tank is already in Moncton with Mom and now my flight is the next day. Chris keeps trying to call me. I just ignore his calls. I spent the last few days at the beach knowing I most likely will never return to Florida.

On my flight I can’t fly straight into Canada because I don’t have a passport. Stuck in Newark, NJ waiting for a spot to fly to Portland, Maine where my Mom and Marion will drive to pick me up. Finally after spending the night at the airport I catch a flight. I’m outside the airport waiting for Mom. I see her and Marion, Mom almost walks by me she didn’t recognize me due to weight gain. I’m just happy to be safe and now heading to Canada. It’s July 2010.

So Mom thinks a well adjusted 25 year old is moving in with her but really a heavily addicted drug addict is moving in with her. It takes a few months for me to find a job. Once I do I pay rent and what is expected of me and also give my tax return to Mom and Marion. I work and still smoke weed and cigarettes daily drink heavily on the weekends. I’m single and meet guys on dating sights. Dating but nothing serious. Make friends with Todd and we party together often. Todd is a fwb that I have in my life from 2010 to 2016.

Mom is happy I’m there but have noticed something strange is going on with Marion. Mom is on leave from work having health problems. I try my best not to add more stress on her but as soon as Marion gets home it’s talks of money and bills and now Mom is stressed. Pisses me off how Marion is with my Mom. Making her feel bad for taking the time she needs to get well. Things become worse and now Marion is scared of me and says I’m toxic. Yes at my work Christmas party I got drunk and made a scene and came home pissed and violent talking about murdering a woman I was mad at and blame for my night of chaos. Mom tried to get me to calm down. Eventually I did.

I few months go by and now Mom talks to me and I have to get my own place for Tank and I. I find a place and I’m ready to pay for my first month but they ended up giving it away to someone else. One day Mom is back to work and I’m home in the basement in my room with Todd he spent the night. Marion starts yelling at me and throwing things at me. Trying to get me to hit her and lose my temper. Todd and I leave and go to his place. I end up staying with him for a month until I find a room to rent from one of Todd’s friends. I’m working this whole time and seeing Mom sometimes now Marion and her are going through a separation. It’s 2011 August and I feel guilty like them splitting up is my fault. I’m really good at feeling guilty like everything is my fault and that I’m always doing things wrong. Have no self esteem and have false confidence because of my drug use. Without drugs and sex I don’t know who I am. I’m known as the good time girl have been for most of my life from 11 to now 26. Mom is still not well mentally and having a hard time accepting Marion is leaving her.

I move in with my roommate Derek and work my graveyard shift at the Moncton hospital and two evenings shifts. Mom now lives at her cabin in the woods and Marion is staying in the house. Mom has Tank my dog and phoenix my cat. Mom picks me up some weekends and I stay with her at the cabin. It’s small but we make the best out of it. One day a guy is there assessing the property because Marion field bankruptcy. Mom is freaking out because she doesn’t know what is going to happen. I try to be as supportive as I can be. Marion has rented the house out and Mom and I are trying to evict them. Takes a few months but the leave very upset because Marion promised them a rent to own situation but those were just lies. They took fixtures and wrote nasty things about my Mom on the wall. Mom and I were starting again with barely anything. It’s now 2012. We get in the house and find out all the bills are back due and the mortgage. We are drowning in debt. I pay what I can and try to help.
We get the mortgage caught up but the water and hydro are still behind a few months.

I’m working at the Moncton hospital and decide to go work where my Mom does because it would be more money. At first it is good but because of issues with my left arm and hangovers I miss time and try to make up the hours. Spoke with a manager and if I made up all the hours then they would give me one more chance. I made up the hours but a manager who didn’t like me or my Mom convinced my manager to back out of our arrangement. I left that job and got a job 2 doors down from our house at the local corner store.

I’m back on the dating scene and meet someone. He lives in my neighborhood and things move quickly. He is spending a lot of time at my house because his apartment is being treated for bed bugs. We talk and he convinces me that Mom is after my money and I shouldn’t be paying as much as I am. Soon I move in with him. To do this I decide to give up my pets. My friend Jackie takes me to the ASPCA and I release my pets to them. Tank my good boy who has been with me through everything. Best dog I ever had. And phoenix the cat I saved from the moncton hospital when I got her she was only a few weeks old. Mind you I still believe my romantic partner and partying are the priorities of my life so I do anything to have those be the main factors in my world. Biggest regret I have was letting go of my pets. To this day that decision haunts me. Tank did not pass the temperament test and was put down and phoenix got adopted. I feel like I killed my good boy Tank and just pray he can forgive me for being so very wrong. I haven’t yet forgiven myself for this. I am writing to speak my truth and heal my feelings of guilt and shame. The story goes on. Living with Jeremie only last a few months and I move in with friends. Donna and her family, her husband and son and Mom and Dad. They all are very welcoming. I get my old job back at the Moncton hospital cafe. It’s Donna birthday weekend and we are drinking and I’m smoking weed and Matt Donna’s husband and me start horsing around. He throws me and I land on my foot bad. They take me in the house and my ankle swells up so bad. The next morning we go to the hospital and I’m put on leave for awhile and have a boot on my foot hairline fracture.

A few weeks at Donna’s and I reach out to my Mom. She comes and gets me and we mend things. I apologize for my foolish behavior and decide to stop using drugs and drinking. A few years go by and I’m doing well. Have gotten into reading and thrifting. If and when we have any extra money we go to goodwill and look for treasures. I have 3 bookcases full of my romantic novels. Now instead of dating I live through my books. The written word of love making becomes my fantasy. Dreaming is safer and easier then getting hurt because I keep getting it wrong.

I need more money so again leave work at the hospital and go to telemarketing. It pays better. I meet new people and we are in a 1 to 2 month training program for Bell at Skype in Riverview. I get weird about money again with my Mom. I decide I am going to move back to Florida because Chris and I have reconnected. One day I leave Mom a note saying do what you want with my things have a nice life. I leave and move in with friends only having a few bags of things. I start using again and this time stronger and heavier stuff like speed and meth and crack plus daily weed and drinking often. I have a one night stand and the guy keeps going on about how amazing it is I’m so tight and in my 30’s. I’m 31. It’s February of 2015. So thinking about this for a few weeks I decide I’m going to be an independent escort. I have no idea what I’m doing but hey how hard can it be. I do some research and see what others are charging. I post ads and begin. I’m scared shitless because I don’t have a cellphone when I go out on calls. It’s great at first but the more I do the more drugs I do so I’m able to do the sex work. On my own time I have fwb and enjoy myself. One night me and my fwb Joey and I are at a local bar and I pick up a guy. We all have fun. I’m with this stranger I picked up and we have sex most the night. Joey orders an escort while I’m with the other guy. The night ends and I get cleaned up and go to bed. Joey starts and we have sex for most the morning. Speed you can just keep going. I believe this is the night I got pregnant because on calls I use protection. On my own time depends but occasionally I will go bareback. I notice my senses are heightened and I can smell everything intensely. My friend says you probably are pregnant. I buy a test and yes I am. I go to planned parenthood and schedule an abortion. One I’m using hard drugs daily and two I don’t know if it is strangers I picked up or Joey’s so I don’t wanna be baby daddy drama of who is the Dad like on Maury Povrich. I have the abortion and heal. I few months go by and my friends get a notice for eviction and the rent I’ve been paying has just been going up their noses. That’s what happens when you live with drug addicts.

So one of my John’s I reach out to him and offer him a sugar daddy deal. I’m only with him as long as he pays for all I need. He gets me a place and furnishes it and pays all my bills and drugs. This goes on for about six months until he is out of money.

So it’s October 2015 and I start doing in-calls at my place because I don’t want to lose everything. I do this until March of 2016. I don’t like doing in-calls at my place because my real name is on the buzzer at the front door. An apartment becomes open at my best friend Jessica’s building. It’s less money and it is a 2 bedroom. Not as nice as the place I have now but will feel more secure in a building with a friend who knows what I’m doing. I continue to work days and stop work at 10pm unless I have an overnight booked. I met someone and we make an arrangement I use his place for calls and I pay him with tricks. I’m acting strange and have a very short temper. I stop that arrangement and go back to doing calls at my place. In May 2016 I adopt my friends cat. She is like the devil cat you can’t touch her without her scratching you. Slowly she gets use to living with me. Now today she is my good baby girl Mocha still not nice to men but nice to me that’s all that matters.

July 2016 I meet my new sugar daddy. He doesn’t think it is safe where I’m living tells me I have black mold in my bathroom. So we find a place I like in Shediac two streets away from where my grandparents lived. To me that is a sign. I believe in signs in numbers and things like that. Always have. So it is September 2016 and I move to my new apartment in Shediac. We have a sugar daddy sugar baby relationship. I try to do calls but being in Shediac there aren’t as many John’s. So I stop escorting. In a few months I tell my sugar daddy I don’t want to do things sexual anymore so that stops but he still takes care of me financially. I’m drinking and smoking weed pretty much daily and use hard stuff on the odd occasion. It’s December 2016 and I have lost my mind. I run out of my apartment and go to a neighbors apartment. I tell them I’ve been locked out of my place and that there was a fire and that Allison and Jason are there. Just saying word salad. They call the police and they come. They ask me what I’m on what did you take. I say O and k and the red pill and the blue pill and weed just weed. An ambulance comes and I go to the Moncton hospital. I stay up screaming fire. I have a sitter Emily she follows me everywhere even in the shower. I’m thinking crazy thoughts and for the first five nights I don’t sleep. I call Jeff and he brings some of my things and looks after Mocha for me. He continues to pay my bills and look after me. I spend more then 50 days in the hospital. I am diagnosed schizophrenic. So it is either I did so many drugs I made myself schizophrenic or I’ve been self medicating my whole life and have had schizophrenia for many years who knows how long. We will never know the answer. I’m mad at myself and having a hard time accepting this.

While in the hospital I reach out to my Mom. Send her a message on Facebook and ask her to call me. She does and I told her I hurt Todd that I’m in the hospital. I’m not making any sense and she doesn’t know what’s going on until one of the nurses talks to her. The nurse let her know I’m delusional and asked Mom some questions to see what was real that I was talking about.

I felt like every man in the hospital was going to rape when when I was tied down to the bed. They did that because I was a danger to myself and others. I always had a female sitter and female nurses. I trusted women especially women with tattoos. I did not trust the men. Knowing what I know from escorting what I learned about men is most of them are pigs. Don’t get me wrong there are good guys out there but from my experience most just hurt me in one way or another. My delusions lasted a long time even after I was released from the hospital.

I got a job right away in February of 2017. I was working at the Canadian tire gas bar in Shediac. At first part-time nights then turned into to full-time nights and weekends. I was able to go visit my Mom in Montreal. I hadn’t seen her since January of 2015. It was Mother’s day weekend 2017. We had a nice visit and she took me all over Montreal. At the end of my visit she said why don’t you move here. So that was the plan. Save and get ready for my move. I was doing ok but after returning home I went back to the hospital. Felt like taking all my pills and called 911. I was in the hospital a few days then went home. Being home I didn’t feel safe alone so I went back to the hospital. There were no beds so they sent me to a crisis center and I stayed there a week until I felt safe again. Work was understanding.

I am still saying to Mom that I have to say goodbye to maryjane that she has been my best girl and best friend for about 18-19 years. I smoke a couple times but it is never the same. Finally in July I smoked weed for my last time.

Mind you everyday I make connections in songs and movies that it is about me or there is a game going on between girls vs. Boys red and blue, Barb and Barb. Just things that make no sense that I’m trying to make sense of. For 2 years after my hospitalization I’m obsessed trying to figure out the meaning behind my delusional thoughts I had. So it is June 2017 and I have planned the move with movers and a U-Haul truck. Was flying Mom in at the end of July and we were moving my one bedroom apartment and my cat Mocha to Montreal where Mom lived. Originally I was going to get my own place. Mom realized quickly that that wouldn’t happen. Everyday after work on my way home I call Mom and we talk until I get home. I feel like people are following me or watching me. That I am the key to something like I am important or the one.

It is July 23rd 2017 my last shift at work. Get home and in a few days Mom is flying in. I make plans with Jeff so we are able to pick her up. We get her and go back to my place and order dinner. Mom is surprised at how much I have packed. We spend a few days going to restaurants in Shediac. We had to have clams before we left just won’t be right if we didn’t. One night Jeff takes us to my favorite restaurant. Mom is nice enough but mainly just happy to get me out of New Brunswick. She wants to get me to Montreal at her place where I am safe. And away from my drug life and life of prostituting.

It’s finally the day we leave. I’ve given my key to Jeff and he will finish the paperwork for me since the apartment was under his name because my credit was bad. The lease finishes end of August 2017. Mom drives the big ass truck and off we go. The movers were great at packing the truck. Mocha is settled in her carrier and we hit the road. We have a hotel room booked and that’s our goal stop point for the night. Well God has other plans because the truck breaks down. So U-Haul sends someone out to fix the truck and also pays for our hotel room for the night. I cancel the other hotel room we had booked. Next morning we get ready to get back on the road. Mom does great because the truck breaks down like ten more times. Eventually they send someone out with a replacement part and on the side of the road they fix the truck. We are now close to Montreal. Mom is concerned about driving in the city. We finally make it to Mom’s place and her landlord made sure there would be parking for the big truck. Later the movers are there to unload the truck. They do ok but aren’t as good as the ones we had who packed the truck. I’m all unloaded and in Mom’s apartment. Over the next week I unpack and get settled.

I see my new doctors and get paperwork in order to be put on disability welfare. I am unable to work due to extreme anxiety and PTSD and my schizophrenia. I’m followed closely and have a case worker Corrine. I see her once a week. I sleep all the time. Mom is at work and I sleep until noon or 1pm. I barely shower or brush my teeth or change out of pajamas. I’m constantly thinking about my stay at the hospital and my psychosis trying to make sense of it. It is all I talk about and write about. Mom is over hearing it but tells me to write it out as much as I need to.

In September 2017 I am approved for disability welfare. During the meantime Jeff was sending me money so I could pay my half of the bills. Feels good to thank him for his help getting me out of the prostituting life and helping me while I was in the hospital. We stay in touch. Yes it is a odd relationship that people don’t understand because he was a John and now we stayed friends. I have stayed friends with a few people I met while prostituting. I’m having a hard time letting go and forgiving myself.

My psychiatrist refers me to a therapist. The Argyle Institute contacts me and I am set up with meeting someone there. I see Sharon once a week. We speak of my childhood and I go into detail of my home life as a kid and the thoughts of my Dad may or may not have done something to me.

She recommends I do a ritual of writing Dad a letter and putting it in a box and burning it. When Mom and I go camping in July of 2018 to Mont Tremblant I do the ritual of burning Dad’s box. I enjoyed the camping trip was nice to do earthing which is staying barefoot and connecting with the earth. I did that the whole weekend.

Once home Mom asked what I wanted for my birthday. I would be turning 34. I recently reconnected with family and now being sober and realizing how much I neglected my family for my birthday I wanted to go visit my Aunt Darlene in Ontario. So we made plans and drove there the day after my birthday. While in Ontario I messaged my Dad and asked for his number. He got back to me and after we left my Aunt’s I called him. He was only an hour and a half drives away. I asked Mom if we could go see him. It’s been almost 10 years since I’ve seen my Dad.

We get to my Dad’s house and Mom and I settled. Dad gets me a beer and we sit and talk. I flat out ask him if he taught me how to give a blow job. He denies everything. I asked why they didn’t co-parent and Dad says I was his daughter. I have questions and ask and Dad answers. I don’t always like what Dad has to say but we make somewhat of amends and agree to work on our relationship.

Once home back in Montreal I text Dad in the mornings and chat with him often. I am stressed and when anxious I start to see smoke in my apartment. When I go outside I don’t see smoke. I tell my doctor and therapist and they say it is most likely due to having intense anxiety. I have always over thought about everything. What if this happens or what if this happens.

Now I am going to MA marijuana anonymous and AA. I go to the forward house which has programs for people with mental health issues. I have fun doing knitting class and drama class and meditation and yoga. I keep myself busy during the week. When I first got to Montreal Mom had to go with me on public transit first then sometimes my case worker would go to my doctor appointments with me. Until I was confident enough to go on my own. Now I have no problems using public transit just don’t like to with covid so don’t unless I absolutely have to.

It is now Christmas 2018 and Mom is working the holiday. We celebrate when able. On December 28th 2018 I believe my Mom has a work accident. So one January 8th she goes to the doctors. They put her off work immediately. They believe she has a strain or sprain of her right shoulder. Her MRI isn’t until May 2018. Come to find out it is a thorn tendon. There is nothing they can do with physio or surgery say they can’t because it is like sewing butter together. Mom is on CNESST and we are able to pay bills and make it and I am still on disability welfare.

To make more money I start the ERS training and development program. A paas action program. I start in January 2019. I go for a few months but quit going because Mom is having migraines and needs my help at home.

I do my best to help Mom when she has a migraine and do what I can around our apartment. I stop going to programs like the forward house and MA and AA, To be home for Mom.

Mom is doing better and I want to get my own place. I move to a woman’s shelter type thing called Logifem. It is May 2019 and I stay here at Logifem until mid June. Mom again is suffering migraines. I return home and decide I’m not getting my own place but that I should add Mom to my low income housing application.

So with everything going on with Mom I try to be strong and not stress. Things keep getting pushed back for her work trial. I’m in my head thinking I am my diagnoses. I’ve gained like 130lbs in 2 years due to diet and the medication I am on. I don’t like myself so start reading self help books and using what resonates with me.

It is summer and this year for my birthday I want my Dad to come visit. He comes on my birthday August 7th rides in on the train. I am 35 years old now. Happy because Dad gets to see where I live. We have good talks and he enjoys his visit. A few days after Dad returns home one night before bed Mom calls me to her room and tells me to call a ambulance. She is having intense pain. She goes to the hospital and they tell her it is a kidney stone to large to pass so they will need to do surgery. I leave her at the hospital and return home. After her surgery I go met her at the hospital and we return home. I look after her while she heals from surgery. The summer goes by and now it is fall. I love this time of year with the leaves changing color. I go for walks and enjoy the time I can outside.

I decide I want to meet new people so go on a dating site. Haven’t dated since the beginning of 2017. Talk to people but no one I’m really interested in. Winter comes and we celebrate the holidays it is nice being home with Mom and us spending all this time together. Mom Dad and I have speakerphone calls and have deep talks about my childhood and what happened. I get their side of things so I can understand where they were coming from. I believe I have forgiven them just still have resentment and pain and may always will. You can forgive but never forget.

It is now 2020 and covid starts. Talk about stress we just stay home and if we do go out it is just to stock up on food from Costco. Months of staying home glued to the news to see what is happening. Crazy how many people are sick and dying in the states and here in Canada. What is happening in old folks homes. Grateful my parents are safe and don’t go out much.

Start talking to a guy I like and great it’s covid so we talk for 3 months to get to know each other. Then we finally meet after restrictions are lifted. I really like him and we date for 9 months but we want different things he wants a wife and child and I don’t want children. So we break up but stay friends. We are still good friends to this day.

Covid is still here and has been here almost a year. It’s Christmas but we don’t do much because we don’t want to go out and risk getting covid. Waiting for a vaccine. Still on dating sites chatting with people. Started collecting crystals and learning about witchcraft. Enjoying learning new things. I take what works for me and use that. I consider myself a Christian Wiccan. I do rituals with my crystal work and candles and incense. Slowly restrictions lift again and they come out with the first vaccine. I get mine as soon as I can. As of today I have had 4 vaccines.

I meet people but mostly only vaccinated people. It is May and I start talking with this guy Brad. He is very nice and we are similar in a lot of ways. We both have mental illness and are both in the same situation being on disability welfare. He comes to meet me at my place. We click and watch a movie and talk. I really like the vibe I am getting from him. We text and get to know each other better. I like that he is able to be attentive and talk with me often. He is separated has been for years not divorced because of the cost. Has 2 grown adult children. I go visit him and we talk more. I’m concerned because I like reading and learning. He likes watching YouTube videos and movies. The more time I spend with him the more I like him. We now spend most of the summer together. I buy a bike and get things for it to update it. It is a vintage bike. We go bike riding together. We both like collecting and going to thrift stores. All is good and I am very happy and in love with Brad. He is 13 years older then me. I’m 37 and in October 2021 Brad will be 50. After his birthday we have problems. He is having stress because his landlord wants him to move out and won’t be renewing his lease. Brad takes his frustration out on me. I can’t handle it and break up with him and grab my things and leave.

Christmas comes and Mom and I have a covid Christmas. Brad and I start talking again but I can’t go see him because I am in isolation with Mom. So we talk and work things out and I want to try again. This time we talk about being in an open relationship. Brad doesn’t want me to go without. He feels he doesn’t satisfy me due to his erectile dysfunction. That is not the case at all. I start chatting with other guys but feel like I’m cheating so I stop. Brad is talking with someone who is a Wiccan and he wants me to talk to her. I get in contact with her. We talk and before days end she blocks both Brad and I strange very strange. So Brad and I look for apartments together. We see places but none that we really like. Then I get scared and think I should just be alone like I don’t deserve love so I ended it with Brad and we stop talking. I spend a few months regrouping. Brad messages me to see if we can be fwb. I told him I would think about it.

So I think about it and decide we were moving to fast. That I want my own place and for us not to live together. So we are fwb and try not to put labels on it. We both love each other and care about each other. Brad got a case worker when I left him and she is helping him find a place. Things have gotten bad between him and his landlords they even don’t like me coming to visit him because I go in and out a lot because I smoke cigarettes. It is April 2022. Brad’s case worker found him a place and he will be moving for June 1st. I am now back in the ERS program and this time I complete it in May. I visit Brad a lot and help him pack. I help him with paperwork and calling doing the change of address on everything. Moving day comes and Mom and I are there. We wait most the day for the movers. The landlord arranged them and is paying due to the fact he wants Brad to move and it is not by Brad’s choice. I spend the first week with Brad in his new apartment. One day my Mom comes to pick me up. She sees a for rent sign and we call the number and book looking at a 4 and a half. We do a viewing and both love the apartment. A few days go by and we come back with the paperwork to get approved for the apartment. While doing the paperwork they say we can show you the other 4 and a half in the next building. The one we see on the 3rd floor in the other building I like most. Better natural light then the first one we saw on the 2nd floor. We get approved and it is subsidized housing. We get the keys that day. It is June 22nd 2022 and we have almost 2 weeks to get pack and moved. By some miracle I arrange movers for July 1st which is like unheard of being moving day in Quebec. Mom and Brad and I pack like crazy and get it all done. We make 10 or so trips in the car and bring what we can before July 1st moving day. Moving day is here and the company we hired was great expensive but very professional movers. By the evening all our stuff is in the new apartment. I love my new place Mom and I have our own rooms because before we spent 5 years living in a 3 and a half. The lease is in both mine and my Mom’s name. It is a brand new building and Brad is 2 buildinsg down from me. He is a neighbor.

So I spend my time between my place and Brad’s going back and forth often. It is fun and sometimes we drink beer and sit on the balcony because I smoke cigarettes. Brad’s neighbor I introduce myself to. Her name is Kizzy. A week or so goes by and we invite Kizzy over. We all have a few beers and I get a little wild. Boobs popping out and me just being to much. Great first impression. The next day I tell Kizzy sorry I get a little wild and loose when I’ve had a couple. She said no worries girl.

It is now August and it is my 38th birthday. We have Brad and Kizzy over and we all enjoy ourselves. After the gathering ended I went and spent the night at Brad’s. So I’m at Brad’s and I am on the balcony. Kizzy is on her balcony smoking a joint. We talk about how I am over 5 years sober from drugs mainly marijuana. So talking with her I decide I think it would be a good idea to try smoking weed again. It is not recommended by my doctors but when I get an idea in my head nothing can stop me.

So I go to Kizzy’s and hit the joint 4 times. At first I can feel the tension leave my body. Then I see and hear a young girl fall on her roller blades. Her Mom is with her I think but no one calls anyone. She is screaming and I think she must be really hurt. That is the last thing I remember.

Kizzy told me I tried to jump over the balcony. And I came in her apartment and sat on the couch and then went and laid on the floor and started rolling around. She asked me if I wanted her to get Brad. I said yes. Brad came over and called 911 and my Mom. When I finally came to my Mom was holding my legs and Brad and Kizzy and 2 police officers were there. I was in and out of consciences. When I was able I told the officers I didn’t want to go to the hospital. Brad wanted me to go but Mom said she would look after me. After rolling around some more once my Mom trusted I could walk we went home.

Brad and Kizzy and Mom and I came to my place. They all watched me for a few hours. We were sitting out on the front balcony. I would rock back and forth and act like I was going to stand up but Brad made sure I stayed safe and seated. I kept laughing and Brad asked me what is the joke. I guess I did this thing with my hands that they said looked like I was feeding the chickens. I was in and out for awhile. Once Brad and Kizzy went home I laid down and tried to rest. I rolled around in my bed and had memories of my first psychosis.

The next few days I had symptoms. It was very hard to get any sleep. We all decided I won’t be using marijuana again. A few weeks go by and I start to take Kizzy’s roach out of my cigarette butt can and start smoking them. I want more so Mom takes me to the SQDC and I buy a thing of joints. It came with 3 or 4. I hit the joint once or twice then put it out.
I do this for a few days and get worried because I’m having symptoms of psychosis. Noises are scary to me and I have very strange thoughts. I give the last of my joints to Kizzy. Tell her when smoking weed at my house to blow it on me. I am a true addict. A few more weeks go by and now I beg Kizzy to come over and smoke a joint with me or sell me a nug.

We hang out at Kizzy’s place and I’m drinking and hit a joint once and it is a great night. I rather enjoyed myself. The next night I go back to her place and I’m drinking and hit the joint again thinking it will be like the night before but this time I get sick. Brad looks after me then we go back to Brad’s and I go to bed. A few days go by and Brad and I eat edibles. I have just one but like it it doesn’t give me any symptoms. So I promise Brad I will no longer use marijuana. I’m at home and have a nug still. A week goes by and I’m hitting it daily ever hour or so. I am hiding it from Brad just not telling him but really it is lying. I eventually tell him and he ends it with me because I was lying.

I’m upset because Brad ended it with me. It’s October and now I have stopped using marijuana. Around October 15th 2022 I am in full blown psychosis. Everything scares me. I know I am safe at home with Mom and Mocha. If we need to go out Kizzy comes with us to help Mom with me because I am unpredictable because I get mad and say things like I know now I know what is going on. When I go to the bathroom I think I’m pooping on people or hurting people.

Talk to Mom and tell her I think it is a trauma from my childhood because I had pin worms and instead of telling anyone I would just pick them out of me. I did this picking shit out of my body my whole life until I stopped in February of 2017 stopped after I got out of the hospital with my first psychosis.

I share this with the people in my life I want to tell. It becomes a joke between Kizzy and I. She is like when I go to the bathroom Elora don’t murder me lol. It is funny but not funny because it got so bad I would hold it in and when I did use the bathroom I would cry until I stopped breathing Mom was there holding my hand telling me everything is ok and I’m not hurting anyone she swears to me. Then I start thinking I’m pooping on my Dad. I hear voices. I hear a mans voice and it sounds like my family doctor. Telling me yes this one this one watch out for her she is dangerous. She is the nastiest woman with a green fishy pussy.

When Kizzy and I go to the food bank I think us playing cards is a sign like a warning. That Mom and Dad are fighting over who gets to keep me. Hearing people speak french and think they are talking about me. That everything is about me or connected to me in one way or another. Songs, news, TV shows, movies, people outside, noises in my building. Thinking people are following me or tracking me everywhere I go. That Dad is tracking me and is mad at me and wants to kill me because I said he may have done something to me when I was little.

Then I hear a voice and it says yes she’ll kill them Brad’s family. I text Brad and ask is he ok is his family ok. That is he sure I am not hurting him. He wants me to get well. I cry myself to sleep because I’m scared of my thoughts and voices I’m hearing. This goes on for 2 months where it is really bad. One day I have had enough and grab a knife from the kitchen and go to cut my wrist. Mom sees me and runs in my room and grabs the knife and calls 911. I go to the hospital and they increase my medication. After one night they send me home but first making sure my Mom is willing and able to look after me while in psychosis.

Everyday feels the same and I always ask questions. Like is it safe to use the bathroom and did I murder someone or hurt someone. Mom explaining schizophrenia to me and psychosis sometimes many times a day. I’m mad at myself because it is happening because I decided to smoke weed again. Now I know for certain I can never use mind altering drugs just use what the doctor prescribes. I finally go see my Doctor in November and he puts me back on the invega sustenna injection. I had stopped that and went on pills for over a year ago. For the first 4 years I was on the injection and I was fine doing very well. As the medication works I get better and better with each passing day.

Some nights I still cry myself to sleep. Mom comes in my room. I have my ocean sleepy time music on and Mom tucks me in and tells me a story to visualize and meditate to. Mom has been great with me and I know she had many sleepless nights. It is now the holidays and I have had my 3rd injection. I am doing better with fewer and fewer moments of confusing thoughts. I am no longer hearing voices. I still get mixed up in the bathroom but tell myself yes I am allowed to use the toilet. That that is what a toilet is for to use to pee and poop. Everyone poops.

I tell my Dad my truth and make sure he is not mad at me. Admit to him and myself I have no memories of him doing anything to me but I have had sexual dreams of my Dad. Dad told me he isn’t clueless and had an idea of some of this. The whole picking poop out of myself and what not. He didn’t seem surprised.

From these traumas and the life I have lived I feel like a bad dirty person. That I am no good. I am having a hard time letting go and forgiven myself. Brad and Mom and Kizzy and Wilson have all told me I am a good person with a good heart. That like my left forearm says this too shall pass. I was thinking my tattoos were warnings. That I am to be feared because I am such a bad person. It is because I have spent my life hating myself. I am not sure I know how to love myself. I read books from Eckhart Tolle and Louise Hay and the power of positive thinking. I use what I can but believing positive thoughts will change my life. I can’t control my schizophrenia. I will have symptoms sometimes and I have to accept that. Accepting my mental illness has been hard.

It is now February and Brad and I are talking again no labels. All I know is I love him and he makes me happy. That is enough for me. I try to be positive and see the glass as half full. I chose to see sunshine and rainbows but the truth inside is dark and sad. The pain in the world is sad and there is so much hate and violence. I can’t pretend it is not there. Sometimes I am up and sometimes I am down. I am sensitive and seem the more awakened I am the more sensitive I get. One day at a time and that is how we all live.

This is my life story don’t get me wrong I did have good times and good memories just seems the ones I remember the most are the bad times.
Through life I have believe the stigmas. First with people over weight or obesity. I would judge and think how could you let that happen to your body. And now being a obese person I know how it happened. A high sugar diet and anti psychotic medications. Ta da gained 130lbs in 2 years. Gained the weight of a whole another person. Then the stigma of mental health. Have had depression since childhood and how I deal with it is I smile and pretend everything is sunshine and rainbows how I think most of us live and lie to ourselves so we can live in the world of today with shootings daily and war and corruption. Then I’m diagnosed schizophrenic and I think right away of the stories I had heard of murder and violence. That all schizophrenics are violent and think great now I will be feared and at first I didn’t share my diagnoses with anyone just close friends and family. Then learning about schizophrenia and drug induced psychosis learning about what I experienced I feared it less. In psychosis it is so intense and feels so real like I cry, I get mad and upset, I truly believe the voices I hear are real and what they say is truth or fact. Having to tell myself no this is not real then questioning everything and not trusting yourself. That has been the worst part for me. Not trusting myself and how much confidence I lost when being diagnosed. Feeling like I have to learn how to do everything all over again but now as someone with a serious mental illness. I have schizophrenia, depression, PTSD and extreme anxiety. Just living day to day is hard for me. Spending October 2022 to January 2023 in and out of psychosis has been exhausting. Sometimes I still have issues with daily self care. Some days I sleep all day. Just depends on the day.

Having Brad in my life helps a lot because he can understand me in a way others can’t. He has serve depression and has had in his whole life since childhood. We are able to talk and express our feelings in a safe place with one another and I know he really sees and feels me. If you have never experience mental health issues it is hard to understand. I have friends who also have mental health issue and we all have a good understanding of one another. Yes it is different for everyone what works for one may not work for another. This is because we are individuals. That is why doctors tailor your care for you. You can’t group us all together and give us all the same treatment. They people in power need to give more resources to the mental health field. Police officers need training on how to deal with the mentally ill in crisis. If this would be done there would be less dying. Some police I have experienced have been very good with me mind you I tell them right away I have schizophrenia especially if I am in active psychosis. I have finally accept my diagnoses. That I have to live with it and understand it and be patient with myself. Being in recovery and learning new ways to cope with emotions. Been an interesting 6 years not using drugs and sex as my coping outlet. For awhile I had to learn what and who I was without the drugs and sex. Come to find out I am still the fun loving caring person I have always been. She has been hidden the little child inside me now it is the time to heal her and let her grow.

I no longer fear showing myself to the world. No longer ashamed of who I am and who I have been. Yes I carry immense guilt and have a hard time forgiving myself. Letting go of the past is difficult. I seem to relive moments over and over again. My past doesn’t have power over me only if I allow it to. Taking my power back in this moment and moving forward knowing I have all I need to be healthy and well. My life’s journey is my recovery. Mind, body and soul. I want peace. Don’t we all want peace and to be happy.
Every morning I wake up I am grateful for another day. It is a brand new day with endless opportunities to be whatever I want the day to be. I am grateful to be right where I am today. I am a survivor not everyone makes it out of addiction or psychosis. Some people spend their lives there. Seeing how blessed I truly am I do not want to take anything or anyone for granted. Not anymore.

This year instead of being how I always am talking a good talk but no follow through or commitment I want to actually do as I say. Have integrity and have my word mean something. Not oh that is just Elora talking more I wanna do this I wanna do that but year after year it is the same with very little change. This year I want it to be about my health. Trying to eat healthy and maintain or even lose weight. Get back to being in nature more during spring, summer and fall. Winter I am like a bear and hibernate because I only go out in it if absolute necessary.

Spending time with people who spark something in me. Making connections and being present in the moment. Staying in touch with my parents and letting them know I love them and have forgiven them just as they love me and have forgiven me. I was a hard kid to deal with especially in my teen years and 20’s. We can’t go back and rewrite any of it. It was what it was and it is what it is. Letting go of control and allowing the universe to do her thing. Being present and doing my part but not trying to force anything just let things happen naturally. I believe God has given me this life and I’ve learned the lessons I needed to have.

I can tell people it is easy to get into addictions even ones that aren’t drug related. I still have addictions, cigarettes, coffee, shopping especially crystal shopping. Drinking I like it to much so have to be very careful and cautious if I decide to consume alcohol. Knowing my whole life I will have these tendencies because I am and will always be an addict. Wishing I could be addicted to working out or saving money ya know things that are good for me but that doesn’t seem the way it is.

Looking inwards because these past months I have really gotten to know my demons. At times I feel like that fearful little girl who is scare of the world. I remember honestly when I was young before the age of 6 I had no fear. One day I walk off the dock right into the water. No fear. Nama panicked and grabbed me by the hair and lefted me out of the water. I was fine. That is how I need to be in today’s world. Fearless do those things you fear most because that is how you grow. I live in Montreal Quebec and have kinda half-ass tried to learn french. Thinking most likely I will live here for the foreseeable future and it would make my life easier if I knew conversational french. Now the fear of committing to full-time Monday to Friday course from 9 to 5 or about that is very terrifying to me. I know I haven't had a full-time anything in the last 6 years so can I do it is the question. Am I capable of doing this realistically with my high anxiety even just by taking a shower like really it is a big thing for me. Going to think on it before I act. If I do this I want to complete it not just another thing I start and quit half way through like so many things before.

My life’s journey now is about recovery and health. Mind, body and soul. Thank for reading and letting me share with you. His is how I became the person I am today. I believe I needed to learn these lessons and have these experiences in order to be where I am today. Sending lots of love and light. Blessed be and God bless you.