Personal Tragedy.

This is going to be a blog post me dipping into my past and sharing it with you all. Sharing what I think has been huge things that have affected my life and been contributary to my development as a human being. But this is going to be just addressing the things that were personally tragic to me. Don't take this as me just thinking only the negative has molded me. I don't think that. It has just been something that I have been thinking about today while buzzing on caffeine. I think I will start with what happened the earliest and work my way up. I will have more to say about some things and less about others. But that isn't a measurement of its importance. Just some things I can voice better than others. Some are more fresh in my mind. Some I just don't like getting to much into because of the feelings they evoke to dwell on and analyze. So here it goes.

I guess the first major tragic thing to happen to me was sexual abuse as a child. I am not going to go into detail about it. They don't matter. But it layed the ground work for busting down my self-esteem and feeling of self worth. It also made me very defensive in life. It also gave me trust issues among other things. It fucked me up sexually. It made me feel contempt for my parents. When I finally got up the balls to tell them they accused me of lying and attention seeking. Of which I was promptly spanked and sent to bed. If you haven't felt abandonment before. You are lucky. It was a terrible feeling. The people who are supposed to protect and fight for you and support you. When they don't and you are just a child, you feel as if the world has swallowed you up and everything in the world doesn't matter. Pretty damaging to the psyche of a child. I lied to my parents most of the time after that. Realizing that they could not handle the truth. My father was also an abusive man. Physically. Has big control issues. Like every Christian male. Dominant and think they are always right. God gave them the powr after all.

They can never be wrong. When I was 7, my best friend at the time, Mark Michel was killed in a farming accident. This was my first taste of death. I never did really understand it or properly mourn him because I could not really grasp the idea. I just remembered thinking how much it would hurt to die. He was climbing on the back of a bale wagon while his dad was backing it up and his head got crushed between a beam and the trailor. I almost could have been spared the details at that age. But my parents fully disclosed it to me. I remember being at the funeral wondering if God killed him. If he did, what sin he had commited to piss God off. All the rediculous questions a kid has when raised up in as fucked up institution as a church. I don't think I ever cried. But it is something I will never forget. Just because of the mystery surrounding it. How baffling the idea of not seeing someone ever again was. He was so young too. Only 9 years old. The hardest experience I have had with death in my life, was the death of my brother Jeremiah. He died only six days after birth. Very painful time.

I will give you a little back history. About 6 months into my Mother's pregnancy, we found out the baby had spina bifida and hydrocephalus. Hydrocephalus is water on the brain. Causes pressure and can cause developmental disabilities. Spina bifida is when the spinal chord is outside of the spine. Quite often resluting in paralysis. It was hard to take and hard to hear. I remember there being a lot of crying feeling sorry for all the things this child would not be able to experience if he was paralyzed. So my Mom was going in for constant check-ups to keep on top of the status of the baby's health. About a month after that we got terrible news. The baby had trisomy 18. It is when your body has produced an extra chromosome. Impossible for a human to survive. The two months leading up to the birth were grueling and painful. Preparing for a funeral and a birth at the same time is a very difficult thing to go through. I as a 14 year old had a hard time grasping that. Wondering why the fuck someone would plague a child with all this fucking bullshit. My Mom had the baby in London. Soo many pictures.

Enough tears to end the famine in Africa. All the annoying church people praying for healing. Showed me that God was a failure or didn't exist. Now I know the answer to that one. The six days of his life were very difficult. He had a very painful time of it. No child should ever have to deal with it. He would stop breathing for four five minutes at a time, turn blue, everytime you would wonder if he was gone yet or not. Then you would hear that gasp. His respiratory system was failing for two days before he eventually passed on. If you have never watched a baby die slowly and painfully, be thankful. Those are images forever burned into my head. When he was finally gone after about seven minutes of not breathing we finally had to accept it. I couldn't believe there in my Mother's arms with tears streaming down her face, she was holding her dead child. I lost touch with my emotional side, what little I had of it for the next while after that. I didn't know how to deal with what I had just seen and gone through for the last few months. My parents told me God would see me through the pain. But one positive experience through all of that was that I had never felt truly loved by my Father except for during that period.

He would tell me that he loved me and hug me and tell me I was very mature and handling all this well taking care of all my brothers and sisters and trying to keep them emotionally intact. I had never really experienced that, nor have I since. Though it is a strange concept that my Father can't love me unless I have an immediate family member die and when it throws us all into the same ringer, it brought us closer together. Now onto the next. The next tragic thing to happen to me was my first love. Now this was a huge stepping point in my life. I reference that as a period where I really hardcore entered into my really self destructive period. Lots of drugs. Over dosing. A couple suicide attempts. Tunga took care of me a lot through that. I love that man a lot for the support he showed me through one of the toughest periods of my life. Anyways, her name was Maggie. Really really wonderful girl. Very smart, idealistic, hopeful and positive, bubbly. Almost my opposite. This woman brought out the best in me. She was worried about the fact that I did chemicals she was telling me one time while we were walking in Southampton just before she was about to leave for the summer.

So I told her I wouldn't do them. I didn't. Effortlessly. It was something I actually wanted to do. I really wanted to be all I could be for this woman. I was fucking smitten. I don't even know if I can put into words how she made me feel. If you met her, maybe you would understand. But also during this period I was still a bit of a fuck up. Not as bad as I would become after she left me. But I was stealing, smoking too much pot. Full of shit and insecure as all fuck. I was trying to screw the world over before it fucked me over. I had in my warped reality, thought that was how I could protect myself from anymore people wanting to abuse me. I am not excusing everything I have done. It was all my doing. I was an asshole. A prick. A distasteful human being. The real me was still there. But buried under a bunch of shit. I will go to the night where she left me. She said we needed to talk while we were in the mall. So we left the mall. Went into the field right near it and sat in the long grass. She took my hand in both of hers and put it in her crossed legs. Told me she didn't think she could be with me anymore. I remember the world dropping out of under me. There was absolutely nothing inside me except for this tearing anguish.

I think my reaction at first was silence. Then when I tried to talk I cried more heavily then most of the times I have. She started crying as well which made it worse for me. I walked back downtown with her and Laura. I left them at her house. I remember I started to walk away without giving Maggie a hug. But she said my name and I turned and hugged her before I left. I wondered the streets for hours leaving what I felt where pieces of me all over those fucking roads. Steeling up. Starting in my psyche to become destructive. I had lost the one thing in my life that I felt was virtuous. My relationship with Maggie. I was of the perception that I had nothing left. Therefore nothing left to destroy. With nothing to destroy I could finally go off the deep end with no consequence. All that mattered had left me with her. These feelings were obviously wrong and just the deception of depression talking to me. I did a lot of drugs after that. That was the beginning of a two year slide down. I didn't do anything right. I tried so many times. But my strength was gone. It had also left with her. I had no wind in my sales.

For almost two years after I thought about her everyday multiple times. Even with all my experiences since and maturing and learning. I still am sure as anything that I loved her. Someone you were with for that short of period makes a big enough impact for the memory to hurt over and over again for years is something. But my experience with Maggie realized that what I had turned into could chase away and make me lose what I love most. If that is a part of me, it is something to be ashamed of. Now for the last I plan on writing about here. Morgan. The woman I was going to marry. Spend my life with. Have kids and build a family with. Boy did that get absolutely fucked. I fucked up with her as well. I was emotionally abusive. I would call her a cunt and we would get into big battles because we were both stubborn as all fuck. Strong headed. We learned how to push each others buttons and did it all the time. But there is no doubt in my mind that we thoroughly loved each other. That just doesn't work when you don't get along. I wasn't working. I was just getting high playing vids and being a useless excuse for a human being. I slowly destroyed that. She left me on April 8th last year.

Almost a year ago now. Boy oh boy. Losing your future family was hard to take. Very hard. But at the same time I realized I needed to get my act together. So I moved away. I progressed and learned and went through a lot of pain and suffered being seperated from dear friends back home. Morgan and I went out three or four times since then. The most recent one being a couple weeks ago now. But what hurt more than anything. Was back at the end of last summer. When I finally had won her heart back after a lot of work and change in my life. She came out here to live with me. Well.... She went back to Owen Sound to visit. Cheated on me with who was my dear friend Jon. Now I am not saying this at all to bash Jon. I of all people know people fuck up. I love the boy despite all that. But it was an inexplicable pain to me. I don't know how I wrapped my head around that. Just all the things you envision. Emotional erosion from all the things you imagine they said to each other that was the exact same as what she said to you cheapening everything you held in high esteem. I had hate in my heart for a bit.

But I quickly realized that that was going to destroy me again and I needed to flush the hate. I forgave Jon in my heart before I ever even told him. For one thing he of all people deserved. For the simple fact that he is a great human being. Shit happens. I needed to learn a lesson in that and I needed to be forgiving. Once I had learned to be able to forgive myself, I had learned to be able to forgive others. All these bumps in my life. All these little tragedies that are immensely huge to me and mean nothing to the world, have helped mold me into who I am today. I would not take anything back. Because for the first time in my life, I am happy with who I have become. Despite Bethany telling me I am miserable without God. I am no longer an arrogant prick who thinks her is always right to hide an insecure boy. I am now a smart prick who is quite often right because of a real confidence. I am still strong headed and stubborn and outspoken. But things I talk bullheaded about I generally think I have thought more about then the people I talk to. So I know this is a long read. But I hope you didn't skim it. Because you wouldn't get the whole story. I also am here today because of friends. Solid good friends who stuck with me and believed in me. Haha. Maybe I would be married today if there was a woman who was as good and understanding as my friends. But my friends don't live with me. Jimmy, and Nicole have helped me through a lot of tough periods. They saw me as a messy human being and still loved me. Who needs God when you got friends? Trust me they are more reliable. Mainly because they aren't a figment of my imagination. Cheers folks!