To the men of my past, present and future.

Since day one, I have had trouble with men. Some would say it’s that theory that little girls seach for their father in every man. Except for one, as far as I know, they have all cheated on me, played me, lied to me. My father did it to my mom too. So is the “curse” real? I am trying to think so. I even have trouble to find dedicated firends.

I don’t know if we can count the 2 early teen love. But still, I wasn’t appreciated, but have to admit one was very truthful and admitted he wanted to be with me to give hell to my ex. It worked it seems. But thanks PY for the truth. Really.

I was then pulled in everyway with a man that couldn’t decide if he loved me or my fromer best friend.. He left without a word, leaving his sister I loved so much behind and grieving. The I met the only man that actually appreciated me for me, knew and had the patience to deal with me and my BPD. I can still call him the love of my life. And the one mistake I made out of anger. Just seem after 8 years he didn’t want to start crusing to another level with starting with are own place… I was heartbroken, and left him in the worst way. Never he understood or accepted my apologies, even the last ones I have sent him in April this year. Since moving to Gatineau, the curse got worst.

I was assaulted, controlled, demenished, lied to, cheated on, played with taken for granted, unheard and the list is long. I did love those men. Even got married to one. I have refused offers for amazing careers for them. But at that time, I was still very strong. I have use my last strenght to leave my husband. But behind that strenght was a Caporal that was holding me up. And depression was knocking at my door. I was called names by my ex, accused of things I would never do. My baby Tahoe was taken from me, while my “savior” showed signs of cheating. Depression crashed through the doors and attaqcked full force. I only had that man left in my life. So much love, yet so much illusions. I was hanging on to him to stay alive but still at one point tried to send my truck off the highway 3 times, unable to deal with the pain. I attempted to make it end several times, end the pain, end my love for that man, end my useless life, end me.

Why do they all asked me to stay and not leave them, that I am the best they ever had but still hurt me so monstrously? He got me several time at the hospital, for attempted suicide. Don’t ask what he had more than the others, I can’t answer that question. But my last time, he refused to reassure me. He left me there without a word, when I needed him most.

Since then, my trust in men is gone. My self esteem and self worth are crushed, in the garbage. I am terrified to be led on the same path again. Some things are still hard to think about, see, hear. He left and open a wound that I had wide open and I am still bleeding to death as we speak. I can feel the blood, life leaving my body.

I try to befriend with others. But I am terrified and at the same time, I crave to be love in an honest way. I want to taste happiness once in my life. But this curse…. Some of my so called good friends left me in the worst of my depression.

So I have rejected many. Afraid. Terrified. I’ve had some of the worst symptoms and disorder related to my depression… I am isolate by choice but by obligation at the same time.

Fighting alone to have my cats back, my therapists, I am not done on this hellish roaller coaster.

I ask for so little. I ask for the normal things of life. Even just a call to advise me our weekend would be delayed ws to hard for the last one I thought different… Same pattern as my lost Caporal… I am not worth anything that is related to respect and I am starting to believe it. Really.

I see the futur very blurred. Blurred and dark. I want to go forward, not look back. Some things just follow me like an awful scary shadow, so I guess I will have to learn to live with it. I wish to have someone who would hold me, take my hand and say “it’s ok, you are not alone anymore, I’ll help you through this and won’t let go” .

Cost nothing to dream, right?

Sorry if I have badly mispelled…so, tired…



My zootherapy: A passion finally fulfilled.

This week I had my first day at fulfilling a passion I couldn’t enjoy since my parents thought it was too expensive. So instead, I did figure ice skating for 8 years. At the end, the cost was the same!

I had my first horse riding lesson. I have ride before of course! But my last ride was 10 years ago, and it kinda disappeared with my obligations and bad relationships. A friend of mine revived my passion by trying a job as  groom… sadly the conditions didn’t fit with my condition.

As my treatment for my depression is going well.. my motivation came back. So much life plans. I need to do some without thinking about…..

So I decided to get lessons, get my levels (Cavaliers) and eventually be myself an instructor or guide. Part or full time. And even if I don’t work, continue with the passion. If I am ever able to have my own horse, I would just dream about the Canadian Horse. What a marvelous horse! Perfect temperament for me.

So my first lesson this last Wednesday. My horse was named Sunny. A lil brushing, saddle and bridle on… and off we go! After so long, sitting on this powerful, intelligent beast was overwhelming. My instructor could see my stiff shoulders. It was pretty much learning all over again. Losing bad habits, getting new ones. Trust the horse again and myself. At the end, she could tell I was more relaxed. The time I have passed there, with Sunny was a stress free moment. I forgot my life for the moment it lasted. A dog is a very good zootherapy animal, but horses are special. The look in their eyes, their calmness… I am jobless right now but hope to be able to keep getting my lessons. It’s my therapy. Wish I could even do it more often.

I just can’t wait for my next lesson….

If you are on Facebook and like Horses but mostly the CH, I have a new page:

The Canadian Horse

Therapy by the art of writing and more positivity.

After a few months of Hiatus including struggles and almost losing my whole world, I have stepped on my pride and got help…

I am now back on my blog. It is no secret by my past posts that I struggled with mental health. As I was hurting myself inside, I was also making life a living hell for the man I love, the one who tried to help me, the only one that couple make me smile. All this because I thought I could do it all by myself again.

Sadly, I had to almost lose him to say “HEY! You cannot do it by yourself anymore, you now need a professional!!!”. I did. For me, but for my loved ones also. I can’t lose the only bright part of my life! So I won’t be ashamed, and will say it: my doc diagnosed me with severe depression. The past year was too overwhelming for me, it got passed my simple anxiety and became depression. BPD will be diagnosed in the next weeks. I might have control this disorder very well until now.

If you think you have depression, anxiety crisis, or just don’t feel right in your head, please don’t do like I did and wait. It’s not because you made it so far on your own that it will be okay all your life. We are not invincible. The mind can be very strong, but it does have its own limits. I have learn the hard way, that it can be so, sooooo hard for the ones around you too, as they get helpless and don’t know what to do at the end to make it better and stop the tears and rage… a living hell. Trust me, when you feel like I did, the last thing you need is to be on the edge of losing the one you love and that kept what’s left of you together.

So as a part of my healing, and the search of a normal life (Job, relationships, financial, etc.), I will continue writing here. I am already writing thoughts in a book, thoughts I can’t share, it helps, but it’s darker…. and here, it will be my other therapy: to change my mind and chat over more positive and lighter things!

And up to a more brighter road!

The “I am so offended” syndrome.

So I woke up today, had a shower, then sat down to read some news on my laptop. The classic: War, ISIS, people doing stupid things like leaving a gun with a young child, etc. Then I came upon this article.  People, minorities, being offended by classic comic books written by Hergé; Tintin au Congo and Tintin en Amérique. They even got them off the shelves, for a short period of time.

Both books tell the story of a reporter from Belgium, sent to different countries to cover stories. “En Amérique” being originally Al Capone and “Au Congo”, the African world. In “En Amérique”, Tintin encounters natives in their classic tribe living. In “Au Congo”, he interacts with black Africans. Now, the way the books are approaching the encounters, is the reason some people are so offended, after more than 75 years on the shelves. Hergé’s books were written and published in the 1930’s, a time where there was this wall between caucasians and other minorities, and when prejudice was at it’s peak. But even then, Hergé was able to keep a form of respect while actually describing the reality of the time. I have always loved the Tintin books. I have read all of them in their original french versions. And yes, there’s some prejudice and old views in them. But they are to be taken lightly. If Hergé had done one book on us Canadians, mostly on the french-Canadian population, I just can imagine what it would be and I would so laugh my ass out! So much preconceived ideas that can be put on papers, ideas that some Europeans and Americans still have on us.

Now I have a lot of difficulty with people that are so offended with “documents” that were published in the 1930’s. With this, I am waiting for the black community to ask libraries to take off the shelves some novels written 100 years ago, where there is black maids and slaves. Well then, let me be offended by the USA’s second amendment and firearm obsession that kills so much innocents and change it right away! But no, I won’t. I don’t agree with our southern neighbors, but it’s their “history”, sadly, I don’t think they will ever learn though. So I stay on my side of the Americas.

Our history, their history, is not all paved with white roses and hummingbirds. We can not change the past and we shouldn’t try. We should use it as an educational way of what is was and what can we do to not slide back in the negative part of it. And know what? Complaining about this kind of thing will only draw negative attention to whatever community is complaining.

I have the feeling that the general planet population is getting less and less tolerant and think less. There’s worst on this planet than a boob on TV and a black slave in a 100 years old novel. There’s kids that are still leaving in violence and hunger, and puppy mills. There’s mass killing and cancer…

People are now offended by a woman breastfeeding her baby, so what do we expect, right? How did we get so sensitive? Life is stressful as is, why not say “I don’t give a fuck” and laugh it out? I am not saying that racist slurs are okay, but we have to measure well what we are fighting for.

So can we all stop a minute, think, get along, and choose better our battles?