Saturday 18 November 2017

It's about time..........

I used to blog.  All the time.  Well, maybe not ALL the time.  But during every trip. And we (the old we, now I'm a I) travelled a lot.  Europe twice a year.  Week long relaxation trips to the Caribbean ~ where we would literally do nothing more than lay on a beach, eat and drink.  NOTHING more, if you get my drift ;). And every year, a week's getaway at the place we called Pointe Au Roche ~ a collection of 3 bedroom cabins on the shores of Lake Champlain in upstate New York, with the Green  Mountains of Vermont as our glorious backdrop.  With our extended family ~ our daughter, son in law, grandson and later, grandsons and sometimes even more extended family ~ sister, brothers, in laws, niece and nephews and my mom.  Those were cherished times, filled with raucous laughter (because we are a raucous French Canadian family, where nothing is off limits in both terms of discussion or making fun of ~ really, nothing. You have to be there to really understand.), food, lots of alcohol, and even more love.

















And then this happened. And everything changed.  I mean everything.  I wanted to keep blogging. Keep telling my truth.  Keep proving that I was OK.  That life goes on.  That shit happens, but I was strong enough to handle it.  Except I wasn't.  I couldn't.  I kept thinking about it.  Kept drafting up posts where I explained what was happening.  How I felt.  Some days strong and full of fight.  Others, barely hanging on.  Willing myself to keep going even though every fibre of my mind wanted it all to stop.  Just stop.  Stop the memories.  Stop the wondering what, if any, was true.  Stop the pain.  Stop the numbness.  Just stop. But I didn't.  Because it still hurt so much.  It hurt for so much longer than I ever thought possible.  It hurt so much more than I ever thought possible.  It just fucking hurt.  So I didn't write it down.  I couldn't.  Couldn't revisit the pain.  The sheer agonizing knowledge that my whole adult life had been a lie.  I couldn't do it.  Even though I had the thoughts and the emails and the texts and the proof that I had been wronged.  So fucking wronged.  But I just couldn't put it into words. Or I just wouldn't. Wouldn't expose the wounds.  The agony.  The hurt.  The betrayal.  The sadness.  The unbearable sadness.

If you are reading this, you are probably thinking, Holy Fuck.  What a depressing blog!  Why the fuck would I want to keep reading this crap? (and sorry for my language, but that's who I am ~ I have a potty mouth and those fucks help me express myself.  That probably says a lot about my talent as a writer, but it is what it is. Oh and by the way, if you stick around, you will hear that a lot ~ it is what it is.  Because it really is.). All I can say is that, it does get better.  I do have a message of hope and redemption (OMG, how pompous does that sound??  But I really do!) Life is what we make of it.  And four years later, I have made it good.  Very, very good.  Of course, I've had the love and support of so many people, who have encouraged me to keep going, keep growing, keep moving forward, keep telling my truth, keep reaching for my dreams.  Just keep............and I have.

So why blog now?  Why start again?  Well, because I feel it's time.  I feel like I can do this.  That I should do this.  That I have a story to tell.  That I can maybe help others by sharing what happened to me.  And how it's possible to start over and move forward, even when every shard of your life changes in an instant  ~ again, how pompous do I sound?  But I tell you this ~ I don't think I am.  I am grateful to every single person who helped me get to where I am today.  And I am grateful for every opportunity I have and I've had.  I'm even grateful for the exquisite pain I experienced because it made me who I am today. Ah shit, this is sounding more and more like one of those, "oh, look how great I am", blogs.  But it's not what I want to say.  All I really want to say is, that if you want to, you can make your life a better life.  It's not easy and it's not a quick fix but it's possible.  Please don't vomit. Hang in there.  I have a lot to say and I'm going to try to say it all.  In time. With a lot of swear words and incomplete thoughts and veering off on tangents and all kinds of crappy writing techniques.  But I will say it.

The real motivation for starting a new blog is that I am fulfilling a very long held dream in six short weeks by moving to Paris for a year.  Moving to the city where I am a different person.  A person I like very much.  A person who can just be, without explanation, without guilt, without trying to fix everyone's lives.  Just me. I'll expand on what Paris means to me and why I have to be there in later posts.  It's not about running away.  It's not about leaving the past behind.  It's not about leaving my family behind.  It's about me.  It's about thinking of just myself for the first time in my life.  It's about making myself happy in what we all know is a very short life.  Doing what I want to while I can.  It's always been hard for me to do that.  To think of myself before anyone else. I am the person people count on.  I am the one who is there.  Always.  No matter what.  So now, I've decided I will be there for myself for this period of time.  Always.  No matter what.  I hope those I love can understand this. I hope with all my heart that they can.  But in the end, my life is my own.  I can't please all the people all of the time.  I can only do what my heart and soul call out for in the short time I have been allotted.  So I am. :)

So there will be lots more.  Lots of soul searching.  Lots of memories to share.  Hopefully lots of useful thoughts on how it's possible to forge a new life, a new hope, a new place when everything falls apart.  My wish is that my ramblings will be useful to women, to people who think they can't go on.  They can't take that next step.  They can't imagine a life where there is no pain, no hurt, where they can dare be whole and happy again.  I'm proof that it is possible.  Not by dreaming (although dreaming is never wrong ~ that is where it all starts from).  It's possible by taking the next step.  No matter how impossible that step may seem at times.  No matter how much it hurts to take it.  You just do it.  One step at a time.  One day at a time.  One year at a time.  It is what it is.  And it is what you make it.

So almost 4 years later, it's time. Join me on an unfiltered, emotional, painful and joyous and tumultous journey, both backwards and forwards, as I Let It Be.