Diary of an Above Average Underachiever

Are You Happy??????

2009-11-04T16:34:00.003-05:00

A dreaded question or not, are you happy. My wife asked me this last night and of course I immediately said, sure I'm happy. Of course, she didn't let me off with the flip, yep answer, she wanted me to think about it and then answer, something I am supposed to do tonight....boy I hate pop quizes.

Its a funny question, a few weeks ago I was listening to CBC 1, a sure sign of getting old that I have begun to prefer this station to even the easy rock stations. Anyway they were talking about this question and quoted the French Actress Geneveave Bu something, a famous and aging french actress who when asked the questions said that no one can always be happy you can be content and happy sometime and since happiness comes from pleasure you should seek pleasure and the things that please you.

Well that then begs the question what pleases me and to that I must say I don't really know, I like alot of things, my family, old movies, cooking, 70's music, and doing my job but do these things give me pleasure or are they distractions. Not my family of course or my job these things while are more complex than anything that can be described as pleasures, they can be pleasing, they give you hope and affirmation and love, but also responsibility and as we all know frustration and stress, they cannot be reduced to simple pleasures.

The Frog and The Scorpion

2009-10-14T16:53:00.008-04:00

There is a story I heard years ago....its about a frog sitting on a river bank when a scorpion asks him to give him a ride across the river. The frog says no because you will simply sting me and I will die. The scorpion says no that he promises he won't and besides if he stings the frog while crossing the river he would drown. The frog thinks about it and sees the logic in the position and agrees to carry the scorpion across the river on his back.

Halfway across the river the scorpion stings the frog and he cries out, why did you do that, now we both are going to die, the scorpion simply says, I am a scorpion, its in my nature, its what I do....

Lately in light of the new proceedings that I have discussed here and other things in my life and especially after a discussion I had with my wife last night, I have been considering why I do what I do. Chrystal asked why I wanted to keep appearing in court, dealing with other peoples problems as my own, dealing with the stress, the fears, the second guessing and the continual battles to prove myself, (this last one is the one that ticks her off the most)

You know dear reader if you have read the now many posts herein you have a pretty good idea as to why I became a lawyer and ended up as a paralegal, however after my talk last night I began to wonder why I still want to do it, is it my nature, simply what I do or is there another reason.

Chrystal and I discussed not so much what I was doing as the whys. What I think it came down to was that I have an inherent need to prove that the confidence once put in me as counsel so many years ago was well founded. In other words I feel the need to prove that I am a good person and I am frustrated that no matter how hard I work, no matter how honest I am, no matter how successful I am, and no matter how long I do this, it can be all undone by a single comment about my past or any other mistake when added to my past. This of course as she quite vehemently pointed out is wrong and of course she is right, however knowing this and feeling it are two different things. I guess like Sisyphus I am still trying to balance that boulder on the top of the mountain, to obtain redemption in the eyes of others instead of looking for it in myself.

I know I have spoken about this in the past, this self acceptance and advised my readers to do it for themselves and this is true, but maybe I should work harder to do it myself. The thing I am scared of in retrospect is that like the scorpion it is now part of my nature, and "what I do"

Another day and I just returned from the Landlord Tenant hearings, of all the proceedings I am involved in this one is the worst, nobody really wins, nobody is ever really satisfied, and the bureaucracy of the proceedings, while probably very necessary is sometimes frustrating. The reason I mention this is because of my comments above, and the thought I have been giving them.

I look at what I love about this business, dealing with people, always a new challenge, helping people that need your assistance to resolve the issues in their lives and my ability to affect their lives for the better, I hope, the vindication in being right or at least being sufficiently persuasive and/or skilled enough to be determined to be right. So to be honest and to strip away all the drama, I love the law, appearing before the courts and helping people and I guess doing something that I know I am good at doing.

However, and maybe like most of us that do this type of work, I cannot stand the business of practice, the insecurity of income and new files, the stresses of worrying about my clients and files. You may remember that I have never really been able to separate myself personally from my clients and my files which to some extent has been the source of alot of my stress over the years. So dear reader while I guess I really can't stand the mechanics of the business of law, I love the practice, bit of a paradox but in addition to that it allows me to some extent find the personal redemption that whether for right or wrong, I believe I need to move on in my life. So I guess in fact it is what I do, but unlike the scorpion I do it because I love it not because I have no choice and as I have discussed in past posts, when suffering and/or recovering from depression, you must make choices, with help and sometimes guidance, but you must make choices if for no other reason than to prevent the choices making you.

I Looked and There It Was....Gone

2009-09-30T12:24:00.002-04:00

I am posting this brief post because for a change I do not have to be so glum or preachy.

I have discussed on several occasions my concerns both with the general lack of understanding of depression on the part of the public and specifically on the part of the Society in my past proceedings and my fears about the licensing proceedings that are upcoming. However in furtherance of the upcoming hearing I had a discussion with the discipline counsel in charge of my file and to my very pleasant surprise when we discussed the depression years ago she not only was aware of the seriousness of depression but also its effects on an individual and on lawyers specifically. It was a discovery that provides me with a great deal of encouragement, not in respect to my dealings with the society now but rather for those that might or may have the same misfortune as I and have been forced to walk this dark path.

As I have previously stated there can always be hope, so to be fair I was at fault again, I was looking for the lack of understanding and I looked and there it was....gone.

The Lord and the Devil are Now Playing Chess, the Devil Still Cheats and Wins More Souls and the Lord, Well He is Just Doing His Best......

2009-09-28T00:35:00.004-04:00

The title to this post is from The Spanish Train an old Chris De Burgh song and to some extent mirrors my feelings tonight. It is often said by Christians that "the Lord never gives you more than you can handle". Well I just wish that he did not have such confidence in my abilities or such high expectations.

The reasons for these musings is that this weekend my daughter told me that she is separating from her spouse and moving out with our 2 year old granddaughter. While we had suspicions that she has not been happy for awhile and we were concerned about her spouse' treatment of her, she never gave us a clear indication that there were very serious problems. Now of course we told her that we support her and in fact I discussed with her for the first time, a very small portion of my marriage to her mother suggesting that if I had acted quickly and in the best interests of both her and her brother, much of the pain I caused them might have been avoided and for that matter the pain I caused everyone around me, my family, my friends and my clients. I explained to her that I didn't act when I knew there were problems to severe to fix and in doing so I lost myself, and that she must for her sake and the sake of her daughter act only in their best interests without considering, the thoughts of others or the fear of stepping into the unknown and she must above all not be too proud to ask for help or to accept it when it is offered.

Now it could be said that this type of thing happens all the time and I am personalizing it and to some extent that might be true, however dear reader as I hope I have shown here the effects of depression and specifically my depression spread like ripples on a pond moving outward over the years and bouncing back as they reach their initial limits and as such I must try to protect my daughter even now from the effects that my earlier fall may have today.

So to paraphrase the song, the devil still cheats and wins more souls and I am still doing my best...

Reflections on Faith

2009-09-23T16:32:00.005-04:00

I haven't been posting alot lately as I have been very busy both with work and with preparation for the character hearing that I have been discussing in past posts. However today I returned again to the Lawyers with Depression website and there was an article in respect to the place of faith in recovery from depression and it got me thinking.

You may recall from past posts in high school I became involved in what was called then, the Jesus People movement, again not the glassy eyed version but the more conservative Baptist movement of the seventies. While I was as described certainly being a hypocrite in respect to my professed beliefs versus my actions, some of what I learned during that period did stick or remain with me. One thing I remember from that period was having a discussion with a charismatic evangelical missionary at a retreat that I had attended.

I had asked him about hell, saying that I really couldn't buy the medieval concept of fire and pitch forks. He told me that he believed hell to simply be an eternal separation from God. Not just a turning away but a separation. He told me that whether or not you believe in something bigger than yourself it is always around you, the possibility of faith or a turning to God is always there, however in his version of hell, he is not around you and you cannot turn to him even if you want to. Its kind of like sunlight, you can decide to go outside or not, it does not change the fact that it is there, by analogy, in his version of hell, there is no sun to go to.

In hindsight when I think about these statements in terms of the depression there seems to be a strange analogous truth to them. I was never really religious after my high school days, perhaps I at least accepted my past hypocrisy, but I did believe and I did occasionally attend church and had my children baptised in the Church of my youth, I guess to use terms of the 21st century I was spiritual rather than religious. I prayed in low times, thanked God in good times, however in thinking back during the depression that option was gone, not ignored, not avoided, not rejected, just gone.

Now when I say gone, I am not implying or trying to suggest that in some delusion of grandeur that the universe turned its back on me personally but rather that in the depression I turned my back on it, the separation was self imposed, in other words rather than deciding not to go out, I painted the windows black, locked the door and threw away the key, I chose hell. Sounds dramatic but in hindsight, I don't remember praying during this period, I didn't ask God or anyone else for that matter for help, I was alone and I accepted that fact, and quite frankly I think I preferred that position, I didn't want anyone to know what I was going through, even God. So I chose the separation from God and the world and entered into a personally constructed hell.

Sounds a bit grand but I think that when you have faith in something larger than yourself you can have hope but when you cannot have faith you cannot have hope and I like others that have suffered from depression know that without hope there is despair. I have spoken about the pain of depression before, and it is almost impossible to describe, except to say that it is severe enough that you will view death as a reasonable alternative to it, and look forward to the relief that oblivion will bring, this pain I believe comes directly from the despair. A feeling of such hopelessness that even God does not exist in the world you have entered, so not only are you separated from your friends and family but from the everything that could ever lift you from the despair.

So the upshot of what I am trying to say is that if you are suffering from depression you must find hope and hope lies in faith in something bigger than yourself, so you must find someone to help you whatever faith you had or may want, go, and ask for help, tell that someone that you need faith, you may not want it, you may never before believed that you wanted it, but now you need it, and with that help you will hopefully be able to ask for the other help you need to beat the depression and once more have hope.

I didn't do this and suffered for it, and while I am still not a religious person I can say that I do have faith and know that there is something bigger than me in the universe, so I am not alone and there is always hope.

I have re-read this post and while I have not changed it I wanted to add some further thoughts, not in terms of faith so much as the need at least I had and have to be part of something bigger than myself.

When I was young, well like all teens and young adults I wanted to be accepted, to have friends and be part of a family. As I got older I think this need was met, at least during law school and after my call when I went west by the fraternity of lawyers, I believe that is the term although I am not quite sure if there is a more politically correct one. Anyway this sense of belonging to something larger than myself was a comfort and satisfied that need in me, however when the depression set in with its attendant shame I became separated from this fraternity and lost that comfort and confidence. Now I would like to say that as discussed to some extent in previous posts that I was ostracized and lost this sense of belonging through no fault of my own but that wouldn't be true or in the least bit accurate. Yes I have previously discussed the reactions of some of my colleagues when I jumped into the pit and the Society began to take action and I have discussed some of the problems experienced to date with various local counsel however it is important to note that there is no question of the chicken or the egg. I dug the hole and I jumped into it. In other words as I became more depressed it was my decision, no matter how delusional or misguided to retreat from those that not only loved me but also those in the profession that could have helped or at least understood the pressures and problems that were driving me. So I guess to be be honest it was I that disengaged not the fraternity or my colleagues initially.

I discuss this here following my discussions of faith not only because I disengaged from faith in the same way that I did from God or the Universe but because I want those that may not have had any type of spiritual faith before they began the descent into depression that faith is not the sole property of the church and to try to illustrate that the faith I am discussing does not have to be spiritual, it simply has to be a faith or trust in something bigger than you although the two are not mutually exclusive.

I am not suggesting dear reader that this trust is easy either during or after suffering from depression, but you must believe and trust in something, you must specifically decide to trust in things outside yourself, family and friends when you can but generally the long term overall justice of the world. The trust may not always be justified but you must trust anyway and with that I believe you will have faith after all even God sometimes says no to prayers.

In my case I believe that things will work out somehow, I believe that there are inherent truths in the world that despite signs to the contrary will eventually win out, I believe that justice may not always be done in the short term but will succeed in the end. I keep this faith even when the facts may indicate the opposite and when my fear of something I cannot control tries to overwhelm me.

A good example of this is the licensing hearings I am now facing, despite the fear that sometimes sneaks up on me, despite my concerns in respect to agendas and institutional policy I have faith that the truth will be accepted and everything will work out in the end, and this as I spoke about earlier is hope and despair cannot stand against hope.

Cast Your Bread Upon The Waters...

2009-08-24T13:30:00.007-04:00

I just returned from mailing out the first group of letters requesting letters of recommendation from various counsel and judges in my area. I had obtained a few others in the past for the preliminary stages of the investigation but this is essentially my first mass mailing. It will be interesting to see the responses, whether my conduct over the past years has garnered the respect I hope and believe it has or not, and if it has, whether that respect is sufficient to allow them to feel comfortable enough to write a letter to the society. The fear in me says no, but as previously discussed you know how the fear lies and I will wait and see. In the mean time I will prepare more letters, casting my bread upon the waters so to speak, or once more into the breach dear friend, both are appropriate but I am hoping the first bears more fruit.

Its been about a week since my last posting and I received my first response to my letters requesting a letter of recommendation. It was from a Deputy Judge that I have appeared in front of on and off for the past 10 years. He is not a local lawyer, Deputy Judge, he is from out of town, I sent him the letter more on a whim than as a result of any plan as I really know little or nothing about him and have had no social contact with him other than to say hello in various courthouses. I guess I thought that if he responded I would get a standard, he is not a bad guy letter, something to pad the file for the society with a little credibility given his position.

Well dear reader when I received the letter, I cried, and to tell the truth I am crying as I write this post. This lawyer, Deputy Judge wrote a letter that touched me deeply, it was a letter that clearly showed that he not only recognized my abilities in court but noted how I approached the profession, my approach to the people I deal with in the court, the court staff, the opposition and the members of the public that are forced to utilize the judicial system. He, more boldly than I thought anyone would, given my past comments as to the fear of counsel to enter into this process, spoke to his impressions of my character and integrity in such glowing terms that I almost doubted it was about me.

I showed my wife this letter and all she said was that finally I might be able to see myself as others see me, not through the haze of self doubt and constant need to keep proving myself to people but as a person worthy of the high opinion people have of me. As usual my friends she was right, further she has illustrated yet another scar of depression or the remaining fallout of the bomb that went off in my own life and affected so many others around me, being the need to constantly make amends, to prove that it was the depression that detonated that bomb and not me whether they blame me or not.

So after my first letter I have learned something that maybe I really needed to know going into this process, I am not as bad a person a I think I am and I may deserve to be happy despite myself.

Well dear reader it has been about a month since my last post, it has been a very busy month both in terms of work and in terms of my dealing with the Law Society hearing. The pre hearing meeting has been set for October and I have been receiving various letters from Judges and Lawyers recommending me and my character which has been very encouraging. There are still more to go and I have yet to review the Proposed Statement of Facts from the Society which will outline the issues they have with me.

Its funny though as I have indicated in past posts and in the previous parts of this post, despite the encouragement and good recommendations, the fear is still there, haunting me almost daily about these proceedings. Now I should say it is a bit different now. Instead of the being paralyzed or obsessing on the fear it is like I am standing apart doing what I have to do but noticing the fear as a side effect of those actions. Its more a function of observation than dwelling on it, I feel the fear but when I do its like I can now say, oh, that's interesting, I wonder why that is bothering me, and I move on. I can only hope that this is a function of moving past the depression, as I have said the fear will probably always be there, maybe now that I have recognized it for the misleading emotion that it is, it will show its face a little less often.

On Your Mark, Get Set, ......

2009-08-20T11:47:00.005-04:00

Dear reader I entitled this post On Your Mark, Get Set... for me more than for you or to even be a little clever. Rather as a goad or whip for myself, I know what I have to do, I just have to do it. It can be get set go, or it can be get set run around in ever decreasing circles. This is a reminder to myself not only to get moving but to be effective.

It is hard to prove you are of good character, where do you start, so I will continue when I have something to write about. I know I am of good character the problem is how do you prove it on the balance of probabilities, think about it, who do you know that can definitively say you are a good person other than those that that love you and as such have little weight in such a hearing.

Well here we go, after some discussions with various colleagues and one paralegal that has gone through the process I am about to start. First letters to as many counsel, judges and agents as I can in the hopes of obtaining their recommendations as to my competence, demeanour in court, and hopefully good character, then letters to as many past and present clients as I can again hopefully to get recommendations as to my handling of their matter, my client management and my character, then some personal letters from friends and family that while they will not hold allot of weight may give the panel a rounded view of my present life. I will then have to see if I can get anyone to attend at any eventual hearing, which may be tough not only due to the fact that these people are very busy but also due to the fact that I have yet to meet anyone that wants become directly involved in this type of hearing no matter how strongly they feel about the subject. I firmly believe that is why most complaints to the society do come from the public and not counsel, they just do not want to get involved with the process. Anyway that is the plan for this week, preliminary I know, but a start, as they say a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.

It is Sunday and I am continuing on my journey by preparing the many requests for recommendations. Yesterday Chrystal and I had a long discussion about the upcoming hearing, she was a little ticked off that we yet again had to go through this type of process, that I again had to prove myself and that our family once more had to deal with the stresses of the ghosts from the past. While I must admit that despite my understanding of the reasons why, emotionally I have the same questions and wonder when this is going to be over, when I can take a step forward or even make a mistake without the events in the west colouring the perceptions of those around me. As I said earlier in this blog I guess the answer is never. This may seem unfair but reality is not always fair, it just is and I would suggest that anyone that finds themselves in the same position as I should understand this and not let it defeat you.

I was asked by the society investigator how I felt about what happened in the west, was I remorseful. I told him yes, that I think about all the time, that almost a week doesn't go by that I do not think about the pain I caused my clients and those around me because not only do I feel badly about it generally but I am never allowed to forget it. If it is not something like this investigation, or a comment from opposing counsel or someone I am acting against, it is found in the fact that because of all of the past problems I have to try to be that much better at my job, that much more transparent in my actions and not only honest but be able to prove my honesty to those that would question it. The frustration arises in the fact that whether I am successful or not in doing the above it means nothing when the single mention of the problems brings everything back and I must start again. The important thing dear reader is that I do start again that I continue on not only for myself which is important but to try and show that the past problems arising from the depression did not beat me and will not no matter how many times I have to start again. The importance of and I believe dignity in this constant movement forward can I think be best illustrated by a colleague that I speak to on occasion who was disbarred almost 30 years ago. He is a paralegal now and we have dealt with each other in the courts for years. He is a good man and works very hard for his clients and has rebuilt his life despite trials and punishments much worse than those suffered by me. He has served the public and has become such a respected member of the community that he was asked to run for a municipal counsel position. After alot of consideration but with a desire to serve he put his name forward as a candidate. Immediately after doing so the local paper ran an article disclosing his 30 year old disbarment, of course his election bid ended before it began. In this article there was no mention of his accomplishments over the past thirty years, his service to the profession, his redemption or rehabilitation, just the suggestion that he was dishonest without discussion or I think even any knowledge of the facts that led him to his mistakes. This event of course hurt and disappointed him but he accepted it as a logical if unfortunate consequence of his past actions and kept on moving forward in his life.

In discussing this event with him I told him that I understood his feelings of frustration at this type of thing, he said, as I was disbarred he could see how I would know what he was talking about and his feelings. I had to smile and I told him that I was not in fact disbarred which surprised him because from what he had heard it was considered to be general knowledge amongst the local bar and bench, this is after 10 years of my appearing before the court and not ever hiding my past. After I told him what had really happened we both just smiled at our mutual understanding and common experience, both agreeing that no matter how much time passes things will not change and the scars cannot be removed, you just have to move on tyring no matter how vainly to tip the scales of reputation to at least balance out the weight of past transgressions.

In reviewing the above paragraphs I do not want to suggest to any reader that this apparent endless struggle to push the boulder up the mountain is not worth it. In thinking about the plight of Sisyphus I think I can now say with some authority that the virtue is not in the getting the boulder to the top of the mountain but in the willingness to keep pushing. Dear reader if you are going through a depression or tyring to recover from it or have recovered from it and facing similar frustrations to those of my colleague and I, the greatest success you can have is the knowledge that you can and will keep going no matter what, not for the sake of public redemption but to reach a point that you can forgive yourself and see yourself as the person you wish others would see.

Again the journey is not for public redemption but for personal redemption, you must realize that if you were canonized as a saint the papers would say, disgraced lawyer becomes saint, the thing to remember is that all saints didn't start out that way and martyrdom is not a job requirement.

The Time Has Come The Walrus Said.......

2009-08-18T12:49:00.010-04:00

The time has come the Walrus said to speak of many things, of ships and shoes and sealing wax and of cabbages and kings......Always for some unknown reason my favorite quotation, I guess it has become relevant now as I have to establish whether I am a cabbage or a king.

After looking at the above quotation I thought of a couple of others I had seen recently on the Lawyers with Depression website, a site I discovered while writing the early stages of my blog and located at http://lawyerswithdepression.wordpress.com
This a great site and has provided me with many insights I did not have before and I am sure would help anyone that may be suffering from or recovering from depression. In addition there were two quotations that really struck a chord with me

Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are your own fears.

-Rudyard Kipling

and

Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.

-C.S. Lewis

I will not write about these now as given the present circumstances they really have gotten me thinking.

Although I was in court this morning dealing with the dramas of the Small Claims Court, a honeymoon gone wrong, and truck towing charges. The first a bit of fun as my client's went on their honeymoon, arrived at the airport and found no tickets despite pre paying and booking their flight 6 months before. After using the balance of their holiday money to purchase new tickets to get to the Caribbean they took off to enjoy the beginning of their marriage. I can only imagine the discussion my client's new wife had with him on the plane as it was he who had made the travel arrangements. Then they arrived on the island, hopefully after marital bliss had been re-established, and left the gate only to find that the all inclusive resort he had booked was closed for renovations. They were sent to another resort, admittedly just as good but hours away from where they wanted to be to enjoy their honeymoon. As compensation they were offered a room free if they returned to the islands at their own expense.

This can only be described as a Judge Judy case, I think even the Judge was enjoying himself at the conference discussing the matter with the counsel for the travel agent and the resort as his first questions to counsel were, are you married, did you go on a honeymoon and what would have been your wife's reaction to all this. His next question was how much are you going to kick in to settle this matter. After some hesitation and a reminder from me somewhat facetiously that if this matter was in the US the claim would be for 10 million not 10 thousand, we came to a settlement in excess of the cost of the overall trip and my newlyweds left happy, their confidence in the justice system renewed and hopefully a husband off the hook or at least with a comeback line in years to come when his wife undoubtedly recalls his somewhat dubious ability to book a holiday.

I outlined the above because sometimes I feel that the limits of a paralegal's practice are not worth it and just the drudgery of Sesame Street law, however it is matters like this, whether humorous or not, that again bring to my attention that even little matters that may not mean life or death to the parties involved are still important and worth the fight.

A new day and paperwork lies ahead, its pouring rain so it at least it takes the sting out of sitting in my dungeon shuffling paper. I have been thinking of the two quotations mentioned earlier, they are of course both true and of course relate directly to getting through a depression. The problem I think when considering them is the application. The first about fear, well it is very accurate, fear basically tells you that you are going to fail before you start so why bother, it not only tells you that you are going to fail but more importantly that there is no way you can win. This of course robs you of hope and as I mentioned earlier,it is this loss of hope that is the greatest factor in depression. You lose hope in little things, then the big things, then in everything and that is when the despair begins. So this quote is true obviously but can it help by knowing it, I think so, if it is one of those factors you consider in everything, in other words in terms of my own application of the intent of the thought, every time I feel the fear I must say its a lie, a challenge untried is a potential victory lost because to stop is to be paralyzed and nothing changes or gets achieved. To quote the movie Dune "fear is the mind killer", not such an auspicious author but you sci fi fans get the point.

If dear reader you have trudged through these missives from the beginning you may understand how this point applies to me, the missed opportunities in life and relationships due to my fear of compromising my original plan and the missed opportunity to avoid the depression itself because I was afraid to admit my problems and seek help. Thus in considering the quotation it is not only very true it is in many ways a guide or instruction that can help get you through your recovery, get you through the depression and as my case and present circumstances, help you move on. So if you are afraid to ask for help, do it, if you are afraid to ask a question or put yourself on the line, do it and if you are afraid to face a problem and take action, as I am at present, rack em up and go for it, you may lose, but you would do that if you don't try so technically you cannot be any worse off that you would be if you didn't even try.

As to the second quote, its also true, but I must admit a bit self serving, not that it should be, just that practically speaking it will be, not through any fault of yours or any flaw in the inherent truth of the statement but in the fact that given the general lack of understanding and acceptance of depression, very few people if any will understand what it takes to face this unseen killer. I would like to tell you that if you do everything right in dealing with depression that when you come out of it or start to come out of it people will see the strength of character and force of will it took to survive and live, that they will acknowledge your achievement for the survival alone. Unfortunately unlike the person that learns to walk again after being injured or the person that battles back from cancer the scars that depression leaves are not battle scars of a victory won, or the scars that tell the story of your battle, rather they are found in the destruction of your life and the pain you have caused others. So dear reader the perception of those around you and those that judge you is not of the battle you have won but the destruction you have caused, not the courage you have shown but the lack of character you exhibited. Sounds pretty bleak huh, but its not, the more I thought about it I realized that in addition to the few people that will understand, mostly those that have gone through it themselves or something similar, you and in my case I know the courage and plodding determiation it took to survive.

Now in my circumstances with the up coming hearing on my character, I cannot stand up and say I have good character because I am here, I survived, realized the pain I caused and have taken steps to redeem myself and make amends. I think dear reader we know that would go over like a lead balloon, however, I can know it, I can accept in myself that I can face any challenge and survive, I have the depth of spirit and character that allowed me, in real terms face death even at my own hand and come back. I have faced those that would judge me, damn me, hate me or ridicule me, listened, accepted and moved on and tried to make a good life for myself and those around me. Thus the strength in this quote or thought is not found in the hope that others will know or understand the virtue or strength of character in your survival but that you know it, accept it, and believe it. I think that if I can accept that in myself and really believe it then facing those that don't understand, or believe or in fact believe the opposite, will be made easier. So dear reader the strength given by the quote is not in its acceptance by those around us but in our ability to accept it in ourselves.

A bit philosophical for a rainy day, but here endeth the lesson, I hope I learned something.

Scarlet Letter

2009-08-17T09:11:00.007-04:00

Well dear reader at the end of my last post I thought that perhaps the drama was over, but then again perhaps I forgot the title of this blog and should have known better. First of all some good news, my son in the west and his girlfriend had a baby boy making me a grandfather again. They named him after me, something that given the troubles he has survived in his life because of my trials and tribulations has touched me very deeply. It has also raised some questions in my mind as to whether I should let this blog stand as published because as I indicated he does not know that he is not biologically mine and I would never want to cause him any more pain. However after thinking about it I truly believe it is important that others that have suffered from depression or are suffering from it know that they are not alone and can have a life.

In my previous posts I have spoken about the the fact that the scars of depression do not seem to fade, like a scarlet letter branded on your forehead they persist and there is no doubt that this is a test of your determination and quite frankly your health. After finishing my last post and at the end of last week I received notice that the law society had determined that I must go to hearing to establish my good character as part of the paralegal licencing process. I wish I could say I was shocked and rant on with some kind of righteous indignation, but alas I cannot. I am of course disappointed that the materials I forwarded to the society were not sufficient to assure them of my character but I am not surprised as the scars are too obvious and past errors too great to dismiss.

Immediately after getting this notice I had to leave to take my family camping, and I mean the family, all the kids, all the grand kids and a cousin, struck out for the north woods with enough equipment to climb Everest. I mention this now because it did help me take my mind off of things for a while mainly because I hate camping. Bugs, dirt in your food, uncomfortable sleeping arrangements in a damp tent and the constant refrain of kids telling you they are bored when faced with outdoors. Ahh the things we do as dads.

We arrived back on Sunday, pulled back muscle, filthy clothes and feeling like we had been camping for a month instead of two days, only to find a the society's disclosure package that had been couriered to me. I knew it would be coming and in fact if it hadn't I would have requested it, but boy it was lousy timing and as such the package sits here on my desk, opened but unread until I work up the courage to dive back in to the ocean of my mistakes, alleged mistakes and the questions that will determine whether I am of good character or not.

I said earlier in these postings that with the scars of depression come the insidious duo of fear and shame with the added bonus of self-doubt. Well dear reader over the weeks I have written about the battles I won or lost in the past in the hope that it could help someone else, I will now continue this blog while actually fighting a battle. I only hope I can remember my own advice, learn from past lessons and hopefully establish that I have a good character even when I sometimes cannot see it myself. The point being that the battle I will be describing is not really with the society but with myself.

After thinking about the above for a few hours, I must think of my back because it still hurts, I am trying to quantify both my feelings toward the hearing generally and quite frankly what good character is objectively. I guess my feelings generally are that I am afraid, the old adversary fear is quick to raise its ugly head. I am afraid that I cannot take another for the lack of a better word, inquisition as to my life and past mistakes, afraid that I cannot handle this type of matter on my own but as I cannot afford to retain counsel I must, afraid that despite believing that I am a good person that my mistakes and misjudgments will bring the opposite conclusion when viewed objectively, afraid that this trial will be the one that is too much. Its easy to talk about past battles won or lost but survived, its hard to look down the road to a new one.

I was once told by a colleague that helped me in the past that if I survived this and moved on with my life no one could question my character again. Well I guess he was wrong but then again being a member of the bar does not make you infallible, it only lets you think you are, come to think of it he was the same friend that told me that just because you are paranoid doesn't mean everybody is not out to get you. Well I am starting to ramble but I hope this free flow of thoughts lets you see that even after all of these years not only do the scars of depression have their effect, the fear, shame and self doubt that contributed to depression are also never far away. The trick is to acknowledge it, face it, and ask for help which I am going to do, I am just not sure who at this point as I am at the early stage of the battle, all I know from my last encounter is that I cannot and will not do it alone.

This is not to say dear reader that I am getting depressed again, just that I am staying vigilant. As I have said, depression sneaks up on you, and by the time you recognize it you are not in the proper frame of mind to deal with it responsibly. Is this being paranoid, probably, but once bitten twice shy. As part of the recovery from depression you are warned to be watchful for the early signs, insomnia, procrastination, and the feeling of being alone, of wanting to be alone and the despair of being alone. I have been acting as a paralegal now for almost 10 years, I have won most of my cases, and obtain my business by word of mouth and referrals from counsel. In that time I have had 3 complaints, all in my view frivolous, but given the licencing process all fair game in addition to my past mistakes in determining good character. I have made mistakes in my life and dealt with them, I have taken the stresses of daily life and then some, my concern dear reader as I have mentioned so many times before in these postings, I can fight for others endlessly, its fighting for myself that has always been the problem, thus vigilance is called for.

Another day, I have reviewed the case law from the society and to some extent determined the criteria or standard that must be established at the character hearing. Sounds confident huh. Confidence is the wrong word because as indicated throughout this blog, despite my confidence in court or when dealing with the interests and rights of my clients, personally and in matters surrounding my own life I have never really been confident, a character flaw, perhaps but something I have always dealt with and even more so after the depression. So I have determined the best manner for me to proceed in respect to the society hearing is to treat it solely as a client file, to consider what advice or manner I would deal with this for someone else and then take my own advice and avoid personalizing the matter at all costs.

The problem with this approach to some extent is that since returning from the west and recovering from the depression my life and the life of my family has been much more insular. In B.C. I was much more outgoing, a member of a service club, very social going out for dinner with friends and even unsuccessfully running for local municipal office all in conjunction with my busy work schedule. Upon reflection and recovery I decided that this type of life while I was devoted to my kids, did not really make them the foundation priority, so upon recovering and starting my family here I strove to change my priorities and make my family the foundation of my life. This is not to say that I do not work too much, in fact I do. My approach to representing my clients has always been to be personally invested in the file. This of course is not a good idea and probably contributed to my depression by adding to the stresses of each file, increasing the expectations of the clients, and to some extent my perceptions of my personal worth. As I said I am aware that because of these negative side effects that this is not a great way to proceed, in fact I have always to some extent admired those counsel and even paralegals that could essentially be professional sociopaths. Now this sounds worse that it is, I simply see it as the ability to separate personal emotion and investment from the file, to do the job, deal with the client and get the job done without making it personal or being emotionally involved. I have tried but I just can't do it, so I must watch and again be vigilant so I don't work too much or lose site of the job in respect to the needs, emotions or expectations of the client. This type of approach also effects the bottom line because I generally end up cutting retainers or doing hours more work on a file that I don't bill for because the client can't afford it or the file begins to become less cost effective. This on top of the fact that I end up taking calls at all hours of the night and weekends does not impress Chrystal but its always been the way I have done the job and while I have tried to change it I can't seem to do it. Nevertheless other than work I spend time with my family and that's about it. This not to say that we do not have friends and simply hide out, on the contrary we do get out but our friends are mainly our family.

In reading this it seems a bit limited and too insular but it is not intentional as it once was when subject to the depression its simply as result of time and I guess money. We have our lives, I cook, Chrystal gardens, I collect eight tracks and Lp's I know its strange, but I firmly believe they will make a comeback, and we generally get on with our lives.

Same Time Different Story

2009-08-04T16:19:00.006-04:00

Well dear reader I have outlined some of the events that were occurring during the period after I arrived back in Ontario and discussed some of my feelings about the things I had no choice but to deal with to try to get my life back on the starting blocks. In other words I have had a good if suppressed rant, now its time to outline the personal aspects of what was happening during this period.

At this time Chrystal and I had gotten back together and through all the trials that I outlined in my previous posts she was standing beside me supporting me in both my actions and decisions. While this is a great thing on its own it is even more important than it would appear because she was the bastion against the return of the depression while at the same time giving me a safe haven to return to when the side effects or after affects of the depression started to get to me. We like any couple have our good times and our bad, but we live through these times knowing that we have gone through the very bad times and that we can do almost anything together.

During the various battles for custody and the ongoing, at this time battle with the law society we moved to various apartments slowly building a life together until we reached the point that we could purchase our own home. While this is a milestone for anyone in a relationship it was especially important for me because it was a step back on the road to self-sufficiency and in some way self respect. I know we are not supposed to gauge our value in the world by material possessions but as one that lost everything, it was a definite step. Now this is not to imply that it was a palace, it wasn't, actually a fixer upper but in a nice neighbourhood with a view of the lake and close to the ski hill, it had definite potential. I should point out that it is generally accepted that when it comes to being handy I am a great supervisor. However I was lucky again in that Chrystal is very handy so the fixer upper became her project and I just fetched the tools when told what they looked like. After many years our fixer upper is now a beautiful house that I can now honestly say is a palace and more importantly our home.

You may recall that I mentioned earlier that after Chrystal and I first separated in our late teens she had gotten married and had a son. After returning to Ontario I have gotten to know this young man, that once could have been mine and he is a great person, a good friend and the now father of two of my grandchildren. However it had always been Chrystal's regret that she had never had another child as she had tried for twenty years but was told by the doctors that she would never conceive again.

So we settled into our new house, we had custody of my daughter McKenzie and we all started to look at the future with some hope and expectations. This is not to say everything was perfect, I was still dealing with the society and its associated costs as well as paying off the bills related to the custody fight, but we were managing and most important we were a family. Then to our surprise near the end of our first year in our new home we discovered why its important to get a second medical opinion, Chrystal became pregnant with our son Timothy. Now to say I was surprised is a polite way of saying I was happy, shocked and scared to death. Upon reflection it is probably more proof that God has a dry sense of humour. Nothing like a new baby to keep you focused.

During this period as previously outlined I had gone through the embarrassment of applying for assistance and I must say that I learned over time that it is not just an embarrassment for me, but I believe for anyone that reaches that position. It is difficult to both admit that you have reached a point so low that you need to be supported by the government and to be forced to admit that fact both to yourself and the world. After being on support for awhile with Chrystal helping with her income I got the job as a consultant for a couple of years and when that contract ended I discovered that you could be a paralegal in Ontario and practice in the lower courts and tribunals.

As I had put all my eggs in the legal basket at an early age this seemed to be the only option I had so I began to advertise a paralegal business. This option at first blush would appear to be perfect, do what I was good at, what I loved to do and something that would pay the bills while keeping my legal hand in for the future. Well this was true in many respects but it proved a trial then as it does now to some extent, both due to the professional and personal scars that the depression had left and the very nature of the profession that I had been a part of and was so anxious to be a part of again.

Paralegals in Ontario had fought for almost a decade with the law society for the right to represent the public in the courts and eventually won this right through the courts. Given this fight and the resulting position of the society and lawyers generally there was reluctant acceptance of agents by the bar in general, with open hostility from a few. It should be noted that even with the general acceptance the attitude of most but not all lawyers was a patronizing one, viewing us as the idiot cousins that somehow managed to get permission to sit at the big table. If you add this atmosphere to my lack of confidence, my fear of standing out, and my now total fear of confrontation you may be able to understand my reluctance if not total fear of appearing in court or even dealing with lawyers generally. Shame has a way of popping up when you least need it.

I would like to be able to provide some pearl of wisdom, some universal insight, or psychological breakthrough that allowed me to return to the courts. I would like to tell you that like a butterfly from the cocoon I burst back into the court shining in my brilliance. Unfortunately, I cannot, I did not burst into the courtroom in triumphant return, I slunk back, knees bent, head down, fighting my fear with every step, but the point is I did go back, both because I needed to support my family and because despite the depression and the fear I knew I needed to stand up, maybe not tall but at least I could stand there and acknowledge my own existence. A bit dramatic I know, rather a fancy way of saying I just gutted it out, and all I can suggest to anyone else in the same position in life is that when you are ready you have to make the step, you cannot hide, you cannot let the depression stop you from moving in some way through your life It if nothing else it lets you know that the fear can be beaten.

Now it would be nice to say that after proving myself in the courts, and I believe I did time and time again, that the fear and problems disappeared, but they didn't. It has been many years since my first day in court and while I walked around for many of them with my heard down relying on quiet persuasion with opposing counsel rather than aggressive or at least firm positions I still find on a weekly if not daily basis that I am treated, as are other paralegals with the same patronizing attitude by many lawyers that I experienced in the beginning. In addition to this you would think that my past problems while not advertised by me but never hidden, were still almost universally known, would fade into the background in the face of my obvious success and competence. Unbelievably this is not the case, it is a common misconception amongst even the local lawyers now, years later that I was disbarred not suspended. I have even had counsel while attempting to remove attention from their own errors state that I was disbarred in open court in an attempt to destroy my credibility, prejudice the court and win their case. I have had lawyers refuse to respond to me in respect to my client's interests and have even been told by counsel that do not know me personally that they will not deal with me because of the events years ago in the west, despite the fact that they have no idea what those events were. Remember dear reader I once said that the scars of depression can haunt you for years and they certainly have haunted me. However, to anyone in any profession or job that is facing this type of fallout from their past depression or is afraid to venture forth because of a fear of this type of treatment, you must do it anyway, you must face this fear because to hide is to open the door once more to the factors that may have contributed to your depression in the first place. You may not always win the battles but if you can win one at least you will know that there can be other victories.

Well years have passed and paralegals are a feature of the legal landscape, the society that once fought to refuse paralegals admission to the courts has now successfully fought to have us licenced and to be the administrators of the process. As an aside, while I agree that paralegals must be licenced I always smile at idea that the society is in charge, to me it is kind of like accepting a dinner invitation from Hannibal the Cannibal, you know there is a dinner you just don't know who is on the menu. Anyway, back to the ghosts of my past.

As part of the licencing process in addition the the competency tests, there is a requirement that you be of good character. I am sure you can see where I am going with this. Needless to say I disclosed everything, my past, any complaints valid or frivolous that I may had over the years in the conduct of my business, almost to the point of admitting that I broke my mom's china figure when I was seven. I heard nothing for over a year, I thought that for once I had proven myself, moved on from the past and escaped the ghosts of my depression. This of course was and is not the case and I am presently attempting to establish my good character to a law society once more and can only hope that my post and pre depression life is sufficient to establish same. These are the battles that will not stop but as I said earlier it is important to fight them if for no other reason that to establish that you can fight, and that no matter what the perception of those around you, you are the person you want to be or at least are on the journey there.

So dear reader I have almost brought you up to the present, we have two grandchildren from Chrystal's son, we have one granddaughter from my daughter McKenzie and we have our nine year old son. Life is not always easy for any of us, things get financially tight, and the battles sometimes make me weary, the trick is to remember the one thing that depression always takes from you, the knowledge that there is always hope and that despair and fear can always be beaten with help and understanding.

As a final note and to complete some of the circles started earlier I recently heard from Karen, she is a respected yoga instructor, travelling the world giving seminars and is presently considering becoming a monk. As to Robin, well I have not spoken to her since that afternoon in B.C before my divorce but understand that she married a successful lawyer in the US and has quite a reputation as an equestrian, a dream that she always had. So I guess in the end things turn out the way they should, and while any of the decisions I made in my life big and small could have changed the events that I have discussed here I am glad I am where I am now, I just wish the trip had been a little more comfortable.

The Art of Questions and Ineffectual Hindsight

2009-07-23T00:48:00.020-04:00

In my last post I went through the events that got me back to Ontario, if not to a normal state of mind, although hopefully I was getting closer to it, as well as the adjustments and battles that I had during that period. On reading the post there were so many other things going on at that time that I thought it would be important to fill in the blanks while at the same time reflecting on the nature of these events.

As I have said on a couple of occasions, depression is a strange, insidious, and dangerous thing, it destroys your life from the inside, so I do not want to give the impression that a few pills, talks with with the doctor and a new relationship suddenly made everything alright. This is definitely not the case, it takes years of work, counselling and determination to get back to what most people can consider normal. Anybody that is suffering from depression should know as I am sure anyone that has walked the road back to a normal life is aware, it is a hard and difficult journey and its affects can leave visible scars on your life that you will always have to deal with. The thing to remember is that the journey is more than worth it and no matter how great the pain it is better than the alternative.

Before I deal with the specifics and traumas of dealing with the courts from the other side of the counsel table and the law society I think it is important to discuss some of the effects that depression can have on your life and certainly had on mine. I have said that depression is insidious and it definitely is, not only does it sneak up on you it uses everything you are or want to be against you, every dream and every fear has its place in the arsenal, the greatest weapons in my opinion being, fear, pride and shame. These weapons may not all be used at once in your downfall but they will be used and often and always by you, depression's partner in crime. I should say that not only did these things contribute directly to my depression in the first they did not disappear when I finally bottomed out and began to get treatment, they have their place to this day, you may be able to win the battles but to date I honestly can say that I cannot see an end to the war.

Whatever the the event that starts your depression, whether like me, a bad relationship and divorce or financial problems or just the general stresses of life, somehow, someway the above will contribute to your downfall. As a lawyer I was the problem solver, the source of all wisdom to my clients and a pillar of strength in my family and community. Talk about pride before the fall. You see dear reader I could not admit to myself and thereby to others that I was having problems, I had to be strong, I could not be seen to be weak because not only would that endanger my perception of myself in the world but also in my profession, in the community and in my family which I could not and would not allow. I was the rock, while at the same time I was falling apart. So pride started my fall, the twin sisters of shame and fear finished the job.

Fear and shame are paralyzing, they stop you from doing anything, they make you procrastinate, not from laziness but from a fear of making the wrong decision, you do nothing instead of doing something wrong, you stall, instead of acting you react, instead of moving off the tracks you let the train run you down. I would like to say that at this point that I didn't realize that this was happening to me, but the sad fact is you do know that things are going south but instead of dealing with it properly and reasonably and asking for help to resolve the problem in a way that you would advise anyone else to do, you hide it because you cannot have a problem that you cannot solve. So in your addled state you start to pretend, everything is fine and when the odd person or friend notices a difference you lie and say everything is not only fine its great.

I didn't let on to anyone that I was having problems and lived quite happily thinking that I was fooling everyone and when I thought I wasn't as outlined earlier my behaviour got more and more extreme and then I just hung out with the people that either couldn't tell I was faking it or didn't care.

So now that I was home and getting treatment I thought I would be fine and things would get easier. In a way they did because the despair while initially not gone was beginning to fade, however the ever present shame and fear now came to the forefront. I guess the shame is understandable in that I had effectively blown the dream. Everyone tells you, friends, the doctors, anyone that loves you that it wasn't your fault, it was the depression that caused the problems, not me, I was a good person, and you even accept to a point that it might be true. However, as a lawyer that only recently began to believe in depression, kind of like being smacked in the mouth by Bigfoot, I still remembered the times that I used depression to defend or mitigate sentences on everything from theft to attempted murder all the while thinking that it was simply psycho babble and the person I was defending knew exactly what he or she was doing. If you add my own doubts to the fact that almost everyone one else either thinks the way I did or doesn't care how it happened just that you lost everything and are disgraced, shame comes easily and with the shame the fear.

You are afraid to walk down the street in case you see someone that knows or wants to ask questions about what happened, you don't want to face family because you were the shining star that has fallen and whether they think so or not you assume the worst. After a while you begin to see the condemnation in their eyes, in every comment you see the double meaning and the criticism, basically you begin to get very paranoid. I was once told that just because you are paranoid it doesn't mean everyone is not against you. Anyway on a more serious note after thinking about this for awhile and yes talking to the doctors I determined that the only way to deal with both the feelings of shame and the crippling belief that I was the topic of every conversation was to march in and face it head on. I think I compared it to bungee jumping, don't think just jump. I figured that I couldn't stop people from finding out what happened in a small town and if they were talking or judging there was nothing I could do to stop it. So I ignored it, I didn't let it stop my life, the feelings of shame and fear were still there it was just a matter of moving through it.

As you may remember from my previous posts I have never been big on personal confrontation despite my aggressive nature in court. The other effect of the shame and fear was what I can only describe as the total destruction of my self confidence, its easy to push yourself out into the community once you get the determination to do it, its another thing put yourself out there personally, to stand again and say deal with me. That is a battle that was hard fought and while the battles have become fewer and further apart they still occur and must be won.

Once the fog began to clear in my head I had to deal with the wreckage of my life or at least put out the fires after crashing and burning. The first matter on the agenda was attempting to deal with the law society and the various complaints about my practice. Now earlier in these postings I briefly discussed my opinions as to the mandate or purpose of the society in respect to the conduct of counsel, and while those comments were rather firm I do not want you to get the impression that I carry some resentment as to what the society did in my case or in general, on the contrary I both understand the reasons for their actions and the need for their position in respect to the profession. In hindsight what I believe I had and have problems with is both their unrealistic approach to the practical aspects of the profession, and what I perceived, right or wrong as the guilty till proven innocent approach to disciplinary action.

I have read the above a few times and to tell the truth no matter how many times I edit the paragraph it still sounds like sour grapes. Its funny I have sworn to myself to be honest in this blog yet I really have problems setting out my views on the society's handling of my disciplinary matter. It's not like the action was not appropriate, I crashed and burned and screwed up endangering my clients' positions and my life, that I can see. I think my problem arises with the mechanics and the obvious limitations to the process despite their knowledge of the nature of the majority of problems that give rise to disciplinary action.

What I am trying to say here is that by the time I had to deal with the society I was both intellectually, emotionally and financially incapable of doing so. It is easy to personalize the proceedings which of course is not an effective approach or one based on reality given the number of complaints and/or actions that the society would take in a year. However due to my mental state at the time there is no other way that I could or would look at it. I once stated in a speech to a Bar Assistance Program meeting that during this period I had felt like Job being tested by God, then after a while I determined that Job was a bit of a wuss as he only had the devil on his case and I had the law society after me.

So dear reader I hope I have now illustrated if not established that the workings of the society at least in respect to their dealings with me were a function of a social imperative and institutional structure and procedure. However, in defence of my own recollections I would now suggest that as any institution is made up of people it can fall prey to both a general institutional bias and/or the personal agendas and perceptions of its agents and employees. I make this suggestion due to the fact that even at the earliest stages of the investigation and after I had begun making full disclosure of all materials and events that occurred in my practice the position of the investigators and the disciplinary counsel was that I was dishonest and should be disbarred. This opinion was not an implied position but a stated one prior to even the completion of the preliminary investigation. This position was also taken in conjunction with the statement made, again prior to any investigation and the provision of medical reports, that I did not want to be a lawyer and was purposely sabotaging my practice to enable me to cease my practice. It is really this initial illogical, unreasonable and self justifying position taken by the society that has in hindsight given rise to my previous comments as to the "scorched earth" approach of the society generally.

Upon further reflection as to my dealings with the society I would like to state that most bar associations have lawyer assistance programs to assist people just like me that are sliding into depression or are experiencing other psychological, emotional or substance abuse problems. This is not to suggest that even if I was aware of them at the time that I would have taken advantage of their assistance. I would suggest that anyone reading these various missives that may see himself or herself here, make inquiries, as my involvement with this type of organization later demonstrated to me that allot of problems could have been avoided with their help.

Despite the above and as a result of the research I have done over the years I would suggest that despite the fact that the societies fund or partially fund these assistance programs their commitment to the conditions that the programs are designed to assist are initially given little weight. It is this approach that gives rise, not to bitterness on my part but rather concern as it would seem that their position in respect to depression was the same as mine prior to actually experiencing it. They view it as simply an excuse to avoid responsibility for inappropriate conduct. The question then arises whether the funding or partial funding of the assistance programs is a politically correct response to the problems of lawyers or a real policy commitment that is disregarded or minimized in application. In my case, despite full cooperation, submission of several drafts of agreed statements of fact, numerous medical and psychiatric reports, the independant corroboration of accounting reports, file reviews, countless letters of recommendation and the eventual acceptance of my diminished mental capacity, the society's main concern was to find dishonesty despite the evidence to the contrary.

Was this a example of institutional policy or a function of the individuals enforcing or applying the overall mandate of the society in accordance with their personal agendas or subject to their perception of the society's overall mandate. To tell the truth I cannot answer the question and can only suggest that it is or can be a factor that may have affected my dealings with the society and could effect the interests of someone reading this story while experiencing the same problems.

Now dear reader as previously indicated, at the time I had to deal with the society I was psychologically, emotionally and financially bankrupt, a position that anyone fighting the allegations of the society will almost undoubtedly or inevitably end up in if they did not start there. Despite this if I can give any advice I would state that it is imperative that you get counsel, you cannot handle this matter on your own. I say this with full knowledge and experience with the potential practical difficulties in terms of finances and maybe even finding someone to represent you. You must remember even though I had avoided actual suicide, there are many ways to hurt yourself and with depression and even in recovery from depression it is amazing how quickly you and your companions shame and fear can find them.

I was lucky insofar as there were a few of my previous colleagues that were ready to assist me. They could only do so much for free though, as those of you that are or were in partnerships or associates thereof are aware, billable hours are billable hours and in dealing with this type of matter there are more than enough hours to be noticed by the office manager. I should also point out that while I had a few colleagues willing to assist, I believe, again in hindsight that it takes a very particular type of lawyer and quite frankly person to represent you in this type of matter. He or she must be courageous, not wear a cape, pluck babies from burning buildings courageous, but rather have the personal strength of character to deal with the society without the usual personal paranoia that lawyers have about anyone at the society knowing who they are, they must have a personal believe in you and of who you are and finally they must at least understand and know why you will be little or no help to their efforts. This type of counsel obviously does not grow on trees however the strange thing is we probably all know one or have at least met one during our practice. He or she doesn't have to be the best advocate in the world, although it helps, they are simple individuals of quiet character that are willing to look at you and your case with an open mind and a willingness to commit to you not just the file.

I suggested that the characteristics of the counsel above are important because I believe that in dealing with the society counsel cannot be intimidated by the institutional might or mandate of the society, he or she must to some extent by sheer force of will and commitment, endeavour to make the society understand that your conduct did not result from malicious intent or lack of character but rather from an uncontrollable loss of focus and understanding. Further when you grow tired or professionally suicidal and suggest that you will accept anything the society wants to do to you because you deserve it, they must be able to listen patiently and in an understanding manner tell you to shut up and do what you are told. This last characteristic is important because in the case of depression, shame and fear are always present along with the desire for all the trouble to be over and submission to the winds of fate are always the easy way.

I was lucky in terms of counsel in that all the counsel that stood by me to one extent or another had many of these characteristics but one in particular came forward that stood out and while I definitely took some hits, which were unavoidable given my conduct throughout the depression and the loss of control of my practice, he did, I believe through force of his character and understanding of my problems save me from an institutional steamrolling resulting from a failure to understand that depression is not an excuse but an affliction.

In the end I was suspended for one year, had to continue treatment until told I could stop by the doctor and I had to repay monies improperly billed or accounted for. I would at this point with a full understanding of the necessity of society's disciplinary action but also with an understanding of some of the factors leading to same paraphrase the findings of a B.C. Justice in respect to this type of proceeding when he stated that the mandate of a society is to discipline, not punish and destroy. I would hope that this judicial acknowledgment may give some comfort to anyone involved in this type of proceeding while at the same time give pause to anyone involved in prosecuting this type of action. It must be remembered that despite new age enlightenment, spiritual priorities and general psycho babble, when someone spends their life becoming a lawyer, its not simply who they are or their job, its what they are and to destroy it is to risk destroying them and as such every consideration must be given before such a drastic step should be taken. I would suggest that indirectly the society is dealing with the very life of its member and as such the factors considered should be reviewed without the interference of public perception or personal agenda.

I was and maybe am unsure about including the last line of the last paragraph but despite this misgiving I am going to leave it. Not because it is especially insightful or unique to lawyers but simply because it is true. It is one thing that may not be helpful but in terms of my own life cannot be changed. It is how I perceive myself, a once lawyer, a going to be a lawyer again, or a disgraced lawyer, it is all the same with various emotional and personal consequences, a fact that I cannot or will not escape. I can only suggest or rather hope that those reading this understand that you can change what you do, you cannot change what you are and as such you must fight and seek whatever help you can to preserve that one thing that may form the foundation of your life and once preserved work hard to make it and yourself better.

During the above battle which took only paragraphs here to describe yet years to experience, I had to also deal with the drug possession charge that occurred as a result of my foiled suicide attempt. While this of course was a serious event for which I not only had to return to B.C to resolve but also to one of the very courtrooms that I appeared in hundreds if not thousands of times defending other charged with the same if not worse offences, it was, in hindsight an event that proved to me that God must have a dark and dry sense of humour.

As indicated at the time I was arrested for possession of a trace amount of cocaine, I was fairly confident, even in my befuddled state of mind that the charge was, from a legal perspective weak if not unsupportable. However, after considering both the risk management aspects of the matter and the fact that I was just in the process of removing my head from my butt, I decided to cut the deal and get out of it as best I could. Arrangements were made and a plea with a joint submission for a conditional discharge was agreed upon, however the Crown required, that I attend to enter the plea. I have always felt that this was a bit of a vindictive demand as my attendance was unnecessary and all it achieved was further humiliation, however a deal is a deal, and how much worse could it be.

I flew to B.C to face the music once again and while enroute decided that I was going to hold my head up and be if not defiant, unbowed in the face of my humiliation. The morning of my court appearance I awoke at Bob's home with no feeling in the entire right side of my face. After a fantic call to my doctor I was advised that the new medication he had put me on had resulted in an incident of Bell's Palsy. For those of you that don't know this affliction can have many symptoms but in my case was the removal of nerve and muscle action to the right side of my face, kind of like having the dentist freeze one side of your head.

So there I was sitting in court as a defendant with the body of the court filled with counsel and past clients, after all I did alot of criminal work in the past, ready to face the judge from the other side of the counsel table, not head up and unbowed but rather sitting there with the sensation that the entire right side of my face was sliding into my lap. At the time not fun, in hindsight even I have to laugh and to this day I believe it is proof that God has a dry sense of humour and was clearly demonstrating to me again that pride comes before a fall, literally.

The Prodigal Son

2009-07-21T16:34:00.001-04:00

So here I was, semi-sedated in a hospital bed, rather a humble end to such a great plan but somehow inevitable given the events to date. The problem with being treated for depression is that you very quickly see what an idiot you were, and while they tell you it wasn't really your fault, its small comfort to either you or those you may have hurt.

To say the least I was amazed to see my father as I awoke, and even more surprised when rather than being his usual self, he was supportive and understanding. I know I have dumped on him to a certain extent in these missives but at this time it was really good to have him there.

After some discussions with the doctor, he took me home and made arrangements to go back to Ontario at least for a recovery period. Unfortunately to do this I had to tell Allison and say goodbye to my kids, both things were not appealing but as my father was present Allison was all understanding, sweetness and light, it was not sincere but at least it made things easier. I made arrangements for the dog and my house to be looked after and left for Ontario.

To save time later I will tell you now that when I returned a month later, my dog had been given away, all my jewelery was gone, as were part of my photo albums, and some of my furniture. No need to say that Allison had gone shopping in my house while I was away and I never got anything back except some of my photos.

Anyway, in blissful ignorance of the above I was back home and about to enter the maelstrom.

When I arrived at my parents home my sisters and mother were there, and initially were very comforting and supportive but literally a few hours later, the trap was sprung and the attack began. The word attack may be too strong, it was kind of like a post mortem intervention, and while later I resented the fact that they were in essence kicking a dead horse, at the time I just took it, after all I couldn't argue they were right. I had hurt everyone, let everyone down and generally screwed up and they didn't even know all the facts. After the initial onslaught and upon their realization that not only was I not going to argue but couldn't, they gave me a list of things I had to do and doctors I had to see and let me go to bed.

Now dear reader I am going to tell you something that I did not believe at the time. Out of the blue, my mother got a call from Karen, she for some reason had been thinking about me and decided to get in touch and called my parents for the number. You must realize that I had not spoken to her in at least ten years and now in my darkest days she simply calls, it was amazing. I was later to learn that my mother let her in on what had happened and after I spoke to her on the phone for a few minutes she announced that she was coming to visit. In outlining these events I am still amazed at how the circle turns and how that very old connection was always so strong.

Karen arrived and stayed for a few days and it was wonderful, I could actually relax and forget about the pain for awhile. We talked and I filled her in on the events of my life that had led me to this point and she filled me in on her life as well. She and her husband had separated about a year before and although they were still good friends they acknowledged that at this point in their lives they wanted different things, he wanted to settle down and she was still searching for her own personal answers, which at that time was eastern philosophy and yoga.

We discussed our relationship and just how blatantly strange it was, we even discussed actually getting together which with little discussion was acknowledged by both of us as unlikely, we were too different, she too adventurous, me too conservative and frankly at that point, damaged.

We spent our time together and as usual her presence did wonders for me until she had to leave until the circle brought her back again.

I spent most of my month in Ontario going to doctors, trying to organize my life or at the very least trying to figure out what my next step was going to be. I could go back out west and stay alone, clearly not a good idea, or I could return to Ontario and try to start again while fighting the law society battle long distance and dealing with the separation from my children. After alot of thought and tears I decided the only reasonable thing I could do was to move back to Ontario and try to put the pieces back together however this would involve a great deal of organization and even more pain.

A the end of my month it was decided that my mother and I would go back to British Columbia to get things organized for the move. We arrived and after I discovered everything that was missing and got the little I could back we went to work preparing for the move. Put the house up for sale, packed up furniture and possessions to transport back and hardest of all, spent time with the kids trying to explain what was happening and why they had to stay with their mother. I should say at this point that as McKenzie got older she and her mother did not get along, it was generally a running battle, mostly because Allison took her anger at me out on this little girl so leaving her in this situation was not easy and to have to listen to her beg to come with me was even harder, but at that point it was the only thing I could do if not the best. I did at least still have the presence of a legal mind to amend the separation agreement to ensure my joint custody and access in Ontario and as such was able to promise the kids that I would see them soon.

After we got everything organized the day came for my mother to fly back to Ontario and I was going to drive back in a truck with my friend Bob with all my stuff. I want to take this opportunity to talk about Bob, he was the only thing I got besides my kids out of my marriage to Allison. You see he was the husband of one of her friends and as she is not much on long term friendships without benefit, they kind of stayed with me after the separation. Bob and Nicole were then as they are now my best friends. Bob is not only the kind of guy that would give you the shirt off his back or drop everything in his own life to help a friend, he actually did it. With little or no notice and without being asked he dropped everything and volunteered to drive across the country with me. It was a week long trip and again the presence of this friend that I had failed to initially share my problems with during this week did wonders to help me face the unknown and the separation from my kids.

So now it has been approximately two months since I awoke in the hospital and I was back in Ontario, with no plan, no money, no clue and alot of rules from sisters and parents. As an aside I should tell you that all during this period my family had been there, organizing, paying and planning, however something had changed, it didn't seem like much at the time but it has never changed to date. During my life when leaving or coming home from a trip, or at Christmas or other appropriate occasion my father would give me a hug, he gave me one in the hospital the day he arrived, however, on this return home with Bob, when we came through the door, he gave Bob a hug and thanked him and then walked right past me. I know it sounds whiny but to date, and it has been years he has never given me another hug and frankly has only shook my hand on a rare occasion.

Bob stayed for a week and then flew home with my undying friendship which lasts to this day. After he was gone the real work started and the pain that got me here just got worse and while I was with my family I discovered I was still alone until something unbelievable happened as the circle turned again. One night during my second week home, and I should point out that my parents now lived full time at the cottage which had been expanded, there was a knock on the door which I answered, and there stood Chrystal, a little older but as beautiful as she was the day I first saw her. To say the least I was completely stunned, but eventually asked her in at which time she said she only had a minute and just wanted to say a few things to me and leave. We went downstairs, she sat me down and after a few minutes of trying to get her nerve up, she told me that she had heard what had happened, you may recall I mentioned that there are downfalls to living in a small town when you have a big family, and that she wanted to tell me that she loved me, had always loved me and that when I was ready she wanted to be with me. She then kissed me and left. To say I was shocked is an understatement of almost biblical proportions, I was literally dumbfounded and sat for the rest of the night thinking of the implications of what she had said. Needless to say I wasn't ready for that now, to put it mildly I had more baggage that a southbound freight and was as twisted as a New York pretzel, but it did give me something that I did not have at the time, hope.

I continued going to the doctor as I should have done years before and taking the pills with all that entailed. The problem with actually going to the doctor is not only do you have to rehash the dumb things you have done and find out why, you learn about things you probably knew about and didn't want to acknowledge, specifically, the relationship with my father. Through this entire disaster he had been there for me, at the very least financially but on the day that he came into see my doctor I learned something I didn't really want to know. After the session in which my father met with the doctor alone, the doctor then wanted to see me which given that I was not scheduled seemed rather ominous.

The doctor sat me down and after a pause asked me if my father had helped during this crisis and I advised him yes a great deal and especially financially, he then told me that was all I could expect in that my father had not only said but argued forcefully that despite everything I had gone through, including the hospital, there was no such thing as depression, that it was baloney and an excuse for the weak. He had stated that I was an embarrassment however despite this he could not be seen publicly or within the family to abandon me and because of this he had helped me and would continue to help me as much as he could. Talk about the good, bad and the ugly, not really something anyone wants to hear. The doctor then told me that emotionally speaking whether I went back west or stayed here as far as my family was concerned it would make no difference.

Dear reader I included this portion of my experience in the hope that anyone that has gone through this type of depression or is going through it can realize that there will be people, even those that you love that will not understand or will not want to understand, they may help or they may not, what you have to remember is that the future may change them or if not there will undoubtedly be someone to come along and fill that space in your life, you just have to look, whether it be a relationship or a support group, someone is out there. For me it turned out to be Chrystal.

We had been periodically meeting, having lunch, sometimes dinner and as the fog in my head cleared it became apparent that the love I had known was still there and for once I was able to see it and with luck I wouldn't screw it up.

About this point it also became apparent that living at my parents home was not going to last long, my rescue was essentially complete and while no one said it, it looked like they all had decided they didn't have to be nice to me anymore so things were getting a little tense. It turned out my cousin had a house for rent, he gave me a good deal so I moved in, a couple months later Chrystal moved in with me and we started again.

This is not to say that everything was now hunky dory, far from it, I still had no job, no money no apparent future and I can tell you it was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life when in order to apply for assistance I had to tell the worker that my last job was as a lawyer but the few hundred dollars he could qualify me for was necessary for me to live. However, every step up is a little closer to getting out of the hole I dug for myself. What I am trying to say is that the road back or out was as humiliating as the fall down but I had to keep going no matter how bad the pain or embarrassing the situation.

For once I was lucky because through all of this Chrystal was with me, she as much as anyone saved my life and helped me get through these struggles and the ones to come.

I wish I could say that we had reached the happy ending, but as implied above this was just the beginning, a good beginning, a hopeful beginning, but there were still issues to deal with and a future to get organized. This is not to say things were not alot better, they definitely were, with Chrystal by my side I felt safe for the first time in years. So I got down to it.

I managed to get a job as a consultant with a local company, using some of those university courses on the sociology of work and business that I thought I would never use. Chrystal got a job at the same company and things started to pick up, at least I had an income and we could afford to eat. Next I kept dealing with the law society and with the help of some past colleagues and thousands of dollars things slowly started to turn my way, I wasn't going to come out unscathed but I eventually would come out of it and take consequences for only the things that I was responsible for and not the groundless allegations of those trying to take advantage.

However there was still my children and that was the part that hurt the most. The access for the first Christmas, other than the initial wrangling that I anticipated with Allison, twas not really a problem and there were no real serious problems getting the kids to Ontario. In hindsight having them with me again while a great joy was very hard to take because I knew I had to send them back. After Christmas the real problems began, not for any good reason but just because now without the thousands in support I had been paying, she could not afford her lifestyle I think she decided to take that out on me the only way she could, so the battle began.

It started initially with a phone call from McKenzie, crying on the phone with her mother and grandmother heard in the background telling her what to say loudly enough that I could hear. I didn't say they were smart. Anyway as McKenzie repeated their words as ordered she said that she loved me but didn't want to come and visit me anymore. I simply told her not to worry she would see me again and I would look after things at which point she said thank you Daddy and that she loved me.

Now dear reader I will let you in on something most people don't realize when dealing with custody and access matters, it costs as much in time, money, effort and pain to start an action for custody as it does to enforce access and not only are the procedures basically the same but if you do not win the custody application you will undoubtedly be awarded the access you also wanted. I would also suggest at this time that if you are the husband or wife with the day to day care of your child and have to give reasonable access, don't play games with it unless the best interests of your children are truly the issue. You see, I left my kids, I didn't want too and it hurt terribly and constantly, but given the circumstances I believed I had no choice, couldn't fight the fight at the time and that because of all of this that it was in the best interests of my children. I had come to accept this unpleasant situation, all Allison had to do was leave things alone and not interfere with the access, however, whether she couldn't resist or whether I had become the source of all disappointment in her narcissistic mind, she just had to try to deny me access to my children. As a result of this I started my action for custody, with, much to my great joy, Chrystal's blessing and support.

I will not go through the endless battling and maneuvering in this action but suffice it to say it involved the following, she denied access and moved the children to the US without notice, she was ordered back to Canada by the court and told not to take them back, which she did on the same day of the court hearing, she was ordered back again and misled the court by telling it that the kids were now in school and their US immigration status had been confirmed due to her marriage to an American citizen, she then got an order that she could take them back to the US on the condition that I would have access that Christmas.

I did have the access at Christmas which we all enjoyed and after New Years, Chrystal and I took the kids back to the airport, filled out the customs papers and put them on the plane, we waited until the flight left and drove the hours home. Upon arriving home the phone rang and it was the airport telling us that the plane had been stopped and the children removed from the flight, so we drove back to the airport and picked up the kids. Now I had filled out the customs papers in accordance with the information that Allison had provided to me and the court however as we were in the process of discovering, this information was not true and in fact the kids had no immigration status in the US, thus I now had at least temporary custody of the kids and life was really looking up.

We got the kids enrolled in school, got McKenzie counselling for the emotional problems she was having after dealing with her mother, and Connor some counselling and treatment for some behavioural problems and learning disabilities. Things settled in life was good but the battle continued and while McKenzie was as happy as she had ever been, Connor missed his mother which for a small boy was not unusual although painful. We finally travelled to British Columbia for the final trial, however with the mediation of the child counselors it was agreed that McKenzie woud live with us and Connor would stay with his mother. I should point out that this decision was based on Connor's psychological attachment to his mother and his best interests resulting from that, not his actual biological connection or lack thereof to me, as stated earlier to this day he is not aware that he is not biologically mine. This decison was hard to make and in the long run maybe not have been the best one in terms of Connor, but we saw him numerous times during the year and to date speak to him weekly on the phone.

McKenzie, blossomed in eveyway except in her relationship with her mother, I basically had to force her to visit her mother and when she spoke to her on the phone the conversations were short and stunted. McKenzie never really disclosed much of what happened in her life with her mother while I was gone to me she did tell Chrystal alot in confidences that Chrystal has never betrayed, except to tell me that it was not pleasant time for my daughter. In any event she settled in and eventually began calling Chrystal, Mom and when she reached the age that she could refuse to visit her mother she did. Now I tried to disuade her from this course of action but it was not helped by the fact that her mother quit talking to her and refuses to talk to her to date no matter how I try to broker some kind of peace between the two.

While all of this was going on I had resolved the law society matter and Chrystal and I finally reached the point where we could buy a house of our own. Life was hard, money was tight but things were good , I was making a comeback, slowly and with lots of help and more specifically with my second chance at love and life with Chrystal.

Be Careful What You Ask For

2009-07-21T11:52:00.004-04:00

Well friends, and I think I can make that reference now because if you have read far enough to get here and not become fed up with me you now know more about me than most of my friends, relatives and all past lovers except one, yes as suggested earlier the circle keeps turning.

At this point the plan was completed, the driving force in my life since Grade 6 was done, my parents were happy, the sun was shining and God was in the heavens.... but what the hell was I going to do now.

After some thought and alot of confusion I had various options to consider, the first being going to Singapore and work for the prosecutors office. I considered this suggestion because apparently the language of the court was English, they liked British Degrees, accepted Canadian qualifications and paid phenomenal money. However I also learned that prosecutors had an uncommon knack of being found floating in the harbour, thus given my history to date and the fact that I did not appear to have a great deal of luck going for me I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and passed on this idea. The next option involved going back to Ontario however this involved articling again given the various rules in respect to transferring between provinces and I was not prepared to go through that again.

The last option arose due to a chance meeting with a friend from law school who was now practicing law in a small interior tourist town, strangely similar to the town in Ontario in which I had spent so much time. Now Joe was a mountain of a man, about six foot four, and three hundred pounds. He had a good heart, a friendly disposition and had the soul of a party animal which not only made him very popular at the law school but the hub of the social scene. However, while being a great guy and a good friend to all Joe struggled at school and had to repeat various courses. He had been a year ahead of me and had now purchased a practice in this small town and had run into some problems and needed someone to come in and help him. After some discussions I agreed to come and help him out for one year, as I had no plans, needed some experience and really didn't want to commit to anything at this point. So I moved again, funnily enough to the same town in which I had received the speeding ticket while driving west, and set up practice with Joe.

I settled in, moved in to an apartment and started to practice law, and to my surprise and pleasure I was good at it. Not underachiever good, not average good, but really good if I do say so myself. This is not to say I was Perry Mason, or legendary, but rather I won my cases, was respected by my peers and feared by others, the police dreaded my cross examinations and husbands and wives would try to retain me before their spouse could in divorces. This big fish in small pond thing may not seem like much but it was satisfying.

After about eight months of this I was looking to move on when Joe advised that he was taking a job with the government and suddenly I was left with the practice and essentially trapped whether I wanted to be or not. After some thought and the fact that I had nowhere else to go I decided to stay and build my life there.

I have not spoken much about relationships for a while because essentially there hadn't been any, dates of course, short term dalliances but no relationships and as I settled into my new town this didn't really change although it was not for lack of trying. Then there was one of those little decisions again that comes back to bite you in the butt and change your life.

It was a Friday night, I was sitting at home minding my own business when a friend called and asked me to come meet his brother who had just gotten a job at a local bar as the DJ. Normally at about 10 at night I would not have gone out but I thought what the hell and off I went. After I arrived and was introduced to Bill I sat down and ordered a drink, shortly thereafter I was approached by a woman who walked off the dance floor. She asked me if I could act like her boyfriend as there was a guy hitting on her, I simply said she could sit at the table with us. Now Linda was about my age, attractive in a girl next store sort of way so we started to talk and made arrangements to meet for dinner the next evening. Again I did not hear what I now know in hindsight was a loud and definitive click as my life was changed forever.

Linda and I dated over a year, and things went well, she was loving, attentive, independent and eventually she said she loved me. Now dear reader if you have read my past entries you know I have always had a problem with these words, however at this point I was ready and I loved or thought I loved her too. This is not to say I did not have the feelings but as things develop the question will not be did I love but who did I love.

After this things moved on, we lived together for a few months and then got engaged, all during this period things went well, and she swore her undying love as engaged people are want to do. We planned a small wedding with family and friends and got married, other than the usual reasons this was a memorable day because it was literally the last day she said she loved me. Hard to believe I know but true just the same, in response to my saying that I loved her she would smile and say "you should". At this point you may recall me suggesting that "karma was a bitch", I was about to find out how much of a bitch it could be.

I was married, I was a respected lawyer and life was good but that of course would be too easy. First Linda legally changed her named to Allison, something about lucky numbers and numerology, I thought it was a bit weird but supported her in her decision. Then after she found out she was pregnant with our daughter she announced that she was going close her shop and go to work in Calgary, staying at her brother's house and travelling home weekends. This decision I didn't approve of but she went anyway. Yes, I gave in, thinking maybe it was a baby thing, also as you may recall while I could fight tooth and nail in court I was never really much on personal confrontation.

Then in the fall of 1986 our daughter was born, a beautiful blonde blue eyed little girl that looked like me and was nothing but smiles and laughter. To anyone looking we had it all, a beautiful daughter, a great house, the nice cars, a boat and even a dog, something out of a Christmas card, life looked good. In reality it wasn't, as indicated she never said she loved me, went out with "girlfriends" far to much and started going to visit an old girlfriend in California far too often. This went on for a few years, did I think she was having affairs, yes probably, could I prove it no, I just watched and lived with it, and worked and worked hoping it would go away, of course it didn't. By the time my daughter was around three, Allison was going to California regularly, various excuses were given, courses, girlfriend's birthday anything and everything, she was gone so much we had to get a nanny to look after the baby while I worked.

It started to come to a head when I refused to allow her to go to California on one occasion and she left to stay at a local girlfriend's for a couple of weeks, leaving our daughter with me. After two weeks and a girls night out in another town, she suddenly came home, apologized and said she wanted to have another baby with me. Life was ok for a few months and she announced she was pregnant.....did I see the writing on the wall, no.

About this time the circle came around again, I was sitting home on a Saturday while Allision was out as usual and our daughter Mckenzie was sleeping and the phone rang. It was Robin calling to say hello and that she was thinking of moving back to Canada. She was just wondering how my life was going. Did I tell her it was miserable, did I tell her that I had one foot out the door, no, I told her everything was wonderful and life was good. As I said before it has only been recently that I realized that I had missed the signs again, I should have at least opened the door and told the truth, my life may have changed and my soul been saved.

We skip ahead to the birth of my son Connor, a beautiful blonde little boy, who not only didn't look like me, he didn't look like his mother. Now this is one of those moments, what do you do, rather what did I do. Well nothing, but I knew then deep down he wasn't my biological child but I could do nothing else but accept him as he needed me as much as I needed him, it was then that the boulder so delicately balanced on the top of the mountain started to tumble and the smile of Sisyphus started to turn into slightly hysterical laughter.

After a few months Allison was back to going out with the "girls" and travelling to California. This time I decided to check things out, she of course denied affairs etc and said I was just jealous and unreasonable. I traced some numbers, checked some addresses, made some calls and determined that she was actually living with some guy in California, when the nanny found this out she admitted that Allison had actually been seeing someone locally on and off for years and using the girls nights as an excuse.

The rock crashed down the mountain and Sisyphus's laughter was now reduced to an insane cackle.

To my credit I threw her out when she arrived back from California, she denies the affairs to this day and despite the paternity test states that Connor is mine, but I am getting ahead of myself. We separated, we shared custody of the kids, I paid the child support but I didn't mind, given her trips to California and her lifestyle I had the kidsalmost full time and I was at least happy with that. However the rest of my life was spiralling out of control and there was no plan to save me or at least keep me focused this time.

To say my work suffered does not even begin to describe the situation I found myself in, it seemed the more I worked the less I got done, things were left undone and nothing seemed right. I went to the doctor who suggested I was suffering from depression, a concept which at the time I disregarded, after all depression was just an excuse, if you felt bad all you had to do was pull your socks up and get to work. Funny how those commonly held myths and misconceptions are so easy to accept, how logical and reasonable they seem especially when they have to do with mental health and more importantly your own mental health. Despite this point of view I at least agreed to attend counselling with Allison for the sake of the children, I later learned that she arranged this counselling as part of a plan to reconcile after I was told by the doctor that the problems were mine not hers.

We went to the doctor and outlined our lives prior to the marriage, our parents and our general views on life. This took about 4 sessions at which time he wanted to see us individually which made Allison very happy in that she believed that I would be told the error of my ways, the folly of my unreasonable jealousy and that I needed help. Allison went first and after an hour stormed out of the doctor's office barely acknowledging me on her way out but stating in a very loud voice that she would never be back. Well dear reader, it was my turn, I thought given her reaction that things were not obviously all my fault and he had told her so, yet I still had to face the music. I sat quietly as the doctor reviewed his notes, he looked at me and said that I should not walk but run away from Allison and that if we did reconcile the consequences could or would be catastrophic. After seeing my puzzled look he went on to advise me that in his opinion and based on the tests we had done, she was suffering from a severe narcissistic personality disorder and could well be a sociopath. As an aside, alot of guys say thier ex wives are crazy, I on the other hand have a doctors letter to prove it.

The doctor then went on to say that his tests also showed that I was suffering from depression and if I did not accept treatment I could become dangerously clinically depressed. Given my opinions as to depression I did not take his advice and went back to my life determined to work things out, get my work done and essentially pull up my socks. This of course did not work, things got harder and harder, and my practice once so successful began to slide. I took on fewer clients, and my paperwork got so far behind that eventually the law society stepped in to review the practice. As previously stated to any lawyer involvement with the law society is the scariest thing there is because contrary to public opinion they are not there to side with or back lawyers, their mandate is to protect the public and to ensure that the public knows this. Thus when dealing with lawyer's problems they generally take a scorched earth approach. This means they assume the worst and act upon it in the hopes of obtaining the maximum penalty which is disbarment. If your actions do not warrant that penalty it is your responsibility to establish that, even though the process may bankrupt or kill you. A bit of an generalization but in truth not that much of an exageration. My problems were accounting, and delay, not dishonesty and misappropriation yet that is what they claimed at the beginning, after tens of thousands of dollars, for representation and accountants it was accepted that it was in fact an accounting problem and not dishonesty, but by that time the damage was done.

While I was fighting this fight a number of things were happening, my father was helping me financially without hesitation, however both he and my mother were becoming more and more emotionally distant, blaming all the problems including the marriage on me which of course wasn't true, he further held the opinion that depression was just an excuse and I had better buckle down. I at this point was falling further and further into the pit.

In hindsight I can tell you dear reader that depression is insidious, like a poison gas that sneaks up on you and then kills you over time in ways you don't even realize. It slowly changes your thought processes, attacking your judgment making what is illogical, logical, what is wrong seems right, what is ridiculous becomes reasonable and eventually it makes whatever takes the pain away the thing you need more than anything else in your life. I would like to say this is an over dramatic take on depression but unfortunately it probably isn't strong enough to get the message across.

To set the scene, while I was battling the law society in an attempt to clear my name at least from the things I had not done and limit the penalty to what I had done or failed to do, I was still looking after my children two to three weeks a month (to this day Connor does not know he is not biologically mine), I was still paying the full child support although my income was at best nominal, and I was dealing with or attempting to deal with the ongoing damage to my reputation. Most people seem to think that lawyers, like the law society are they to help each other or at the very least stick together. This unfortunately is not the case, when this kind of trouble hits a lawyer two things generally happen, one you are ostracized as if the trouble with the law society is contagious, like some sort of plague, the other is you are attacked or taken advantage of, quite frankly when the blood is in the water the sharks circle and anyone that can, will take advantage, from the flaky client trying to find away to get money back, to the colleague you had lunch with for years trying to get one over. I know this is a generalization and to be honest there were some very notable exceptions including some local lawyers that stood up for me both at the time and later, however there were many more that either came at me when I was down or crossed the street when they saw me coming.

I was essentially alone and all the while there was a mantra playing over and over in my head, "if this doesn't stop I am going to die", the scary part was that every now and then it changed to" if I die this will stop".

The question now is how did I deal with this, did I go to the doctor, occasionally, did I accept his treatment, not really, did I crawl under my bed and hide, no, actually I did the opposite, all in the somewhat misguided attempt to portray that everything was fine, that I was ok and that I was a whole person. Thus like any responsible professional adult, I embarked on a course of partying and debauchery almost unheard of in that small community. It honestly seemed like a logical thing to do at the time to demonstrate that I was alright. The problem was that to do it I hung out with every low life in town, all those people that I had successfully defended in the past were now my friends, or I thought they were as I sunk deeper and deeper into the pit.

I partied, and partied, and to put it bluntly slept my way through every woman I could, single or married, 20 to 40, drunk or sober, anything to distract me from the pain of being me. Not right I know, not even decent but it happened, all the while the mantra pounding in my head, "if this doesn't stop I will die". Now dear reader as whatever opinion of me you have had has now undoubtedly dropped lower, I must tell you it gets worse.

I mentioned earlier in my teens that I was never into drugs over the years I had tried them and maintained my opinion that they were a waste of time, however, during this period of time I tried cocaine, and I liked it and the people I was now hanging out with had it and since I was the star, it was easy to get and more importantly it made the pain go away and that was essentially the focus of my life.

I keep referring to pain in terms of depression and this is hard to explain. Its not like a cut or a break, or a migraine, its is a constant agonizing ache in your soul, everything hurts, you do not want to get up, you don't want to go to bed, you don't want to think, you don't want to eat, (I lost 40 pounds during this period), you just want it to stop!

So there I was, fighting the law society, looking after my kids (I was home and good when I had the kids, perhaps my only redeeming behaviour), screwing my way through the female population, partying and taking coke like a rock star on a road trip all supposedly in support of my intention to show people that everything was alright with me.

And then the mantra changed and all I heard all the time, day in and day out, was "if I die this will stop"

I have always thought that suicide was one of the dumbest most illogical things anyone could do. I have known people that commited suicide, even a local lawyer I knew commited suicide, I never understood it untill I went through this depression.

As I have said depression is insidious, it changes the way you think making the unreasonable, right, and more than that it makes the unacceptable not only acceptable but necessary, not only for your own good but for everyone elses. Its funny once you decide to commit suicide life becomes very simple thats why I don't think its ever a spur of the moment decision, its something you decide and prepare for slowly and methodically. So as a point of warnng if you know someone that is depressed and they suddenly become calm and almost happy that is the time to worry and to act whether you are right or wrong, because to be right and do nothing is fatal.

I had decided, it was a logical, reasonable and financially sound decision, good for my kids, my parents and me. I know this seems strange but I remember giving this a great deal of thought, carefully considering all the factors. My kids would be better off without a failure as a father, my insurance would look after thier future and pay back my parents, it all made sense. Of course it did to someone with his head so far up his butt he couldn't see daylight, but nevertheless the decision was made and I set about getting ready.

I confirmed the suicide riders on my insurance policies had lapsed, made the appropriate changes to beneficiaries, and re-drafted my will, all I had to do was figure out a way to do it that wouldn't hurt too much and so I wouldn't be found by my kids. I dismissed guns, I didn't have drugs that would do it, hanging didn't appeal to me, so for some reason I decided on electricution, I would get drunk, sit in the hot tub and pull the TV in with me. I know dumb, but that was the plan and you know by now how committed to plans I can be.

Finally the night came, the kids would not be back for two weeks, I arranged for a friend that I thought could take it to come and see me the next day and I set about getting ready. Then my ex mother in law called and I spent the next twenty minutes trying to get her off the phone which I finally did, only to have the police at my door 5 minutes later because she thought something was up and I had a gun in the house. At the time a major pain in the butt but in hindsight she saved my life. The police came in, confescated my hunting rifle, found a bit of paper with some coke on it and arrested me.

By this time Sisyphus had just given up and was sitting on the boulder drooling.

I was taken to the police station and charged with possession despite the fact that it was only a trace amount, funny I knew that that thier case would be weak if not unsupportable, for all the good at did me at the time. I was released and the next day taken and checked into the hospital by a friend and immediately sedated, don't remember much for about three days untill I woke up to see my father standing at the end of my bed, at that point death still seemed like a good idea.

And Sisyphus Smiled

2009-07-20T15:39:00.003-04:00

Upon my triumphant return from England, and it was triumphant, I had met expectations despite the problems, I had succeeded at least in my fathers eyes. I was now approaching the top of the mountain, the boulder seemingly lighter with every step. Then of course as I reached the top of the mountain the boulder mockingly teetered and rolled thundering down the other side of the mountain waiting to be pushed back up.

In real terms this means that upon returning home after graduating law school I found that the British Degree was not accepted in Ontario, I would either have to go to another Province or do one more year of school. The plan did not allow for this, the timetable and sacrifices to date did not permit delay, so I contacted some firms in British Columbia to inquire about articling positions, leaned into the boulder and once more started up the mountain.

Enough of the drama for now, I had been caught off guard but think I recovered quickly. I managed to get a position with a British Columbian Firm for my articles that would start the following spring which would give me time to get some rest, get my life together and drive west. As to life at home, not much changed, Chrystal was living with the father of her baby in Toronto, Robin had moved to the US with Abe and I still had the plan, a little battered, worn around the edges not so much an old friend but now more like an addiction, a need that had to be met. Hard to believe that all this started with a little decision in Grade 6.

In the spring of the next year I packed up my old Firebird with everything I own, my cousin who was going to Calgary and we were about to head west when I got a telephone call from Karen, I know what are the chances. It turns out she now lived in Calgary and when I told her I was heading west she asked me to call her when we arrived and we could get together for dinner, at which time I could meet her husband. Dear reader I am sure I don't have to tell you I was not exactly thrilled at the prospect of hearing about and seeing another life and love move on without me.

My cousin and I set off on the understanding that whoever drove got to listen to their own music, as my cousin was into German techno pop, you will understand when I ended up volunteering to drive most of the way across the country. When we arrived in Calgary I dropped off my cousin, called a couple of friends from Law School now living there and then Karen. I arranged to meet Karen and her husband for dinner and despite my desire not to like him, he was a great person, charming and intelligent, basically the kind of person I thought she would marry, if I ever thought she would marry given her free spirit and independent nature. We had a great dinner and I recounted the events of my years in England, perhaps not as thoroughly or dramatically as I have discussed them here but the highs and good times anyway. After dinner I went back to my hotel room alone steeling myself for the drive the next day into British Columbia. About midnight there was a knock on the door and when I opened it there stood Karen, crying, not for herself, not due to any fight she may have had with her husband but as I was to find out, for me. Please don't get me wrong, the dinner conversation was not depressing, actually it was just your general lighthearted dinner with an old friend. Thus as she started to tell me why she was upset I was very surprised. I guess in knowing me, she saw through the laughs and excitement about the future and in a word saw the changes in me and perhaps the price I had paid for my plan and it upset her.

The next part of my story is, well kind of hard to explain and despite her assurances at the time I was not then or now totally comfortable with what happened. As you are probably assuming she spent the night with me and gave me a night of comfort and love that perhaps let me hope that the loves that I had lost were still possible and I was not beyond redemption As to her husband she explained that they had an open relationship and he knew she was with me, that they had married for the future on the understanding that they could both live and explore their present lives. Did I believe it, maybe, it was in keeping with everything I knew about her, did I want to believe it, yes and while it always bothered me, it is a night I still cherish.

You may now have noticed that for some reason my life and those in it somehow keep moving in and out again as illustrated by Karen. I don't know why this happens as I never instigated these returns, its not something I ever thought about seriously before and I have never really heard or seen it in other peoples lives. I mention this now because when you write all this stuff out the patterns in your life begin to become apparent and to tell the truth there will be further and more dramatic returns as the story continues.

The next morning I was back on the road this time on my own, twelve hours of non-stop driving, reflection, introspection, planning, one speeding ticket, and in the end virtual delirium from fatigue but I made it.

I made it to the coast and started my articles with the new firm, the next step to finishing the plan, the beginning of the end in more ways than one.

I had grown up around law firms, worked in my father's as everything from a janitor to a litigation clerk as well as with other firms as a researcher and assistant but to be honest I had never seen then or to date such a bigger collection of pompous, self absorbed, stuffed shirts in my life. This given my proclivity for being totally self absorbed and insensitive to the feelings of those around me, is saying quite abit. However, this didn't matter, I just had to finish my articles and get called to the bar and I was done.

On my first day I showed up, bright eyed and bushy tailed, wearing the new three hundred dollar pin striped suit my father had bought me before I left. I should point out that at th is time a three hundred dollar suit was a serious suit, so I was feeling pretty good about myself. I arrived and was met by the senior partner who welcomed me, introduced me to everyone, showed me around and before leaving me to my own devices advised me that they were not some corduroy sport jacket law firm and I should go out and get a decent suit, he then gave me the address of his tailor and left. I was dumbstruck but obediently went to the tailor and spent a thousand dollars on a new suit, to date the most expensive suit I ever owned, hell at the time the suit cost almost as much as my car. You think I may have seen the warning signs at this point but again like love the plan is blind and generally not to bright.

I went to work determined to succeed and in doing so became friends with one of the junior partners, Dean, a good guy that while agreeing with my opinion as to the nature and character of his associates, had his own plan and with that common bond educated me in the basics of how to get along and get by.

As an articling student you are basically a gopher, you do what you are told, when you are told and don't ask questions, hopefully learning something along the way. I realized as time went that not only was I not being asked to do allot by anyone except Dean, I wasn't even seeing anyone other than Dean, so contrary to custom and convention I made an appointment with the senior administrative partner and quietly, meekly and politely asked if there was a problem and why wasn't I being given much to do. I was told there was no reason and to just keep working with Dean. Within a day I was summoned to the senior partner's office, kind of an audience with the king. Upon sitting down in the grand corner office, his first words to me were, "can't you take a hint" Now, dear reader I had been working here by this point for six months with no problems, no criticism and little direction so I was a bit confused, but given the tone and the obvious fact that I was there a day after the previous meeting something was up. I again politely but perhaps a little more defiantly responded to this rather vague question, with the words "I guess not, whats the hint". I was then told that they wanted me to quit, no reason, no explanation, just the suggestion that I quit. I of course said no and was promptly dismissed from his presence.

That afternoon, I met Dean and described the events of the past couple of days. After he finished choking on his beer and laughing, he asked in disbelief if I had really just said no to the grand pooba and when I told him yes he just started laughing again and explaining to me that it was probably the first time the guy had heard the word in respect to his demands. He then went on to tell me that things would get pretty cold around the firm and that I should just keep my head down and wait out the next months because the firm probably would not have the nerve not to sign the ariticling completion documents. I took his advice to a point as what he said was true, even the secretaries barely spoke to me and were always to busy to do my work. However, in addition to keeping my head down, I began to essentially run my own law practice from their offices, using Dean as supervisor. I began to do lesser files and legal aid files on my own all the time keeping notes as to my contact with the partners and my time spent in the office.

As the deadline for articles approached I told Dean that I didn't think they were going to sign the papers and if that was the case I was going to go to the law society. I should mention that most lawyers no matter how good would prefer that the society not even know that they exist, its kind of an inherent paranoia based on the knowledge that no contact with the society can end well. Dealing with the law society is viewed like dealling with a vicious dog, you don't make any sudden movements and avoid eye contact. Given this prevailing point of view the suggestion did not go over well and he again denied that the firm would refuse to complete my articles and as such I should leave it alone. This advice I did not take and without anyone's knowledge I forwarded my outline of events and my notebooks to the society.

After this a few things happened at once, the first was that during the week that the papers were to be signed I was involved in a criminal negligence causing death trial, after all I had been running my own practice for a while now from their offices and part of that involves trials. However, I was supposed to be supervised and given the atmosphere around the office I was not. After being out of the office for three days Dean called me and asked me where I had been for the past three days and I told him that I was going into my last day of a four day trial on criminal negligence. He almost had a heart attack, due to the fact that I had been doing it on my own combined with the fact that a representative from the society was attending the next day due to the firms now apparent refusal to sign the articling papers. His health was not further improved when I advised him that despite his advice to leave things alone I had been sending my logs to the society for months in anticipation of this refusal by the firm.

The next day we were all at the courthouse, me, to finish the trial, Dean came to watch and give the impression he had been aware of my attendance for days, the law society representative and one of the senior partners all showed up for the finale. I finished my closing statements to the judge as did the prosecutor and the judge retired to make his decision.

To say things were a bit tense at this point is an understatement, the credibility of the firm to some extent was hanging on the decision almost as much as my client's life, they had criticized my abilities without spending the time to discover if I had any.

Finally the judge returned and for the first time after years of following the plan, blindly plodding forward I discovered that I was actually good at this stuff. The judge promptly acquitted my client while specifically praising both my conduct of the file, my demeanor in the court, my sensitivity to the issues and specifically stating that if he had not been told I was an articling student he would have thought I was counsel with years of experience. I was thrilled, the law society representative was showing his displeasure to the senior partner, the senior partner was looking like a deer in the headlights, Dean was doing his best not to break down in fits of hysterical laughter, and Sisyphus smiled and leaned into the boulder once more.

After a brief and formal hearing where it was discovered that after hiring me the senior partners had lost a small fortune in real estate and could not afford an articling student, the firm was disciplined and I was called to the bar, the plan was completed.

I had made it but what was I going to do, after all the plan was over and I hadn't thought about what came next.

During all the events outlined above something else happened that to tell the truth at the time I did not think about as a serious or as one of those moments that could have changed my life. In retrospect it probably was not only the plan that stopped me from realizing this fact then and let me go on to the present without realizing the potential importance of the moment but also the fact that as far as relationships were concerned I had essentially given up hope.

While plodding through my articles and before the trouble started I received a telephone call, not from Karen this time, but from Robin. She was calling me to tell me that she was divorcing Abe because he had become physically abusive and had hit her on a few occasions, she wanted some advice as to the divorce. At the time I told her that I didn't know anything about American divorces and she should get a lawyer there. After years of assuming that this was all this call was about it has as of late dawned on me that my insecure self absorption probably missed the chance to get her back. She had no need to call me in British Columbia about an American divorce, there was no reason for her to call me about the divorce at all. If there had been no interest why would she have called to let me know she was now on her own and Abe had shown his true colours. Again the gold ring in my life circled by and as usual I was looking the other way or was just too dumb to see it. As you may be noticing dear reader this is getting to be a trend.

Law School, A Plan Comes Together

2009-07-20T10:57:00.004-04:00

I had made it to Law School, not the school I planned to go to but at least one that had a little prestige and not only that, I had a woman that loved me and was willing to sacrifice part of her life to show that love and to be with me, could things get better, unlikely, could I screw it up...... undoubtedly!

When I got to England I was excited, law school the long planned for achievement, not only was I far enough from home that the pressure and expectations of my father would be minimized or at least delayed, I would be the novelty, the only Canadian at the school.

The fact is when I arrived in September and went to the orientation, much to my shock and surprise I was up to my ass in Canadians. There had to be at least 15 Canadians from various parts of the country and various backgrounds. Guys like me that accepted the first law school that accepted them, sons and brothers of Supreme Court Justices and lawyers. It did give me pause, was this a really good school despite the explanation that I used to justify my attendance or was I like the doctors son going to Acme University for his medical degree because he couldn't get into a real school, I decided on the first and hoped it wasn't the latter. Nevertheless, I was there, this was law school and Robin was on her way.

The apartment I rented was not exactly the Ritz, actually nothing unusual for a student, it was part of a row house on a street near the school, its own little living room and kitchen, stairs to the shared bathroom and separate bedroom shared with the landlord, not a bad guy who was a widowed steel worker looking to cut his expenses. It was alright for me but when Robin arrived it definitely had to be changed as it was too cold and damp which of course was true but while we were there it was the adventure that I guess we both wanted despite freezing our butts off. As we got used to the damp weather, we had fun and the future if not the weather looked bright.

It was October, Robin had arrived and school had started, we got a new little apartment clean and warmer if not warm, Robin got a job that she enjoyed and as stated the adventure had begun. You would think I would remember it clearly, the school, my life with Robin, the dream coming true but the truth of the matter is a remember very little of this first year until part of the dream ended, from that point my recollection seem clear and the regret painful still.

We were involved in the school and with the other Canadians as well as the locals, we had friends from both groups and a great social life, school was hard and like most first year law students we all thought we knew everything, and could solve any problem. I was consumed by the work, it wasn't easy but it was part of what I had worked whole life towards and I was doing it, however as I was doing it Robin fell into the shadow, probably not the first time this has ever happened in the world but given the sacrifices she had made for me it was nothing but wrong. There was no indications of a problem, no fights, no tears, she stood by me supported me and loved me, I as usual was just too self absorbed to see what was happening.

Then I got a letter from Karen. Now Robin new about Karen, our past relationship and that we were now friends that rarely saw each other or even spoke, she didn't know about the abortion but she knew there was an unspoken connection. She never indicated or mentioned any problem about the friendship nor did I think anything of it when I told her that Karen was stopping over in London on her way to a dig in Isreal and wanted to meet in a couple of months.

There was no problem, no fight and I would like to say that when Robin said she was going home for a couple of weeks that I didn't suspect there was a problem, but I think then and from hindsight now, I knew there was.

About a month later I was on the train to the airport with Robin, we were both quiet and didn't say much except that we would miss each other. If I could ever have a "do over" moment this would be it, that hour on the train, to get down on my knees and beg her not to leave, and in thinking about it I really think she was waiting for me to do it, the final test, the confirmation of that I loved her even though I wouldn't say it. But I didn't, I would like, dear reader at this point to be able to give you some deep and meaningful reason why I didn't, some newly discovered psyhcological deficiency or impediment to my not stating the obvious, but the truth is I was simply a self absorbed idiot that found it easier to accept things at face value that didn't shake up my plan than look to the obvious feelings and pain that I was causing.

She left, and as I called for the next couple of weeks to find out when she was coming back it got harder and harder to get hold of her, then when I did and we were talking I had one of my rare flashes of light or ESP moments and I out of the blue asked how long she had been dating Abe.

I mentioned Abe earlier as my roommate in my last year of University, he was a teaching assistant in the Political Science department, older by about ten years, called a mature student. He was a nice guy, basically full of baloney in that he told me he was ex US army intelligence and spun stories of special missions in Vietnam. I never really believed the stories as he was not the type, tall and big enough but basically a big dork but as guys will do, I just ignores the baloney and went with the flow.

After saying this to Robin there was a few moments of silence and then quietly and hesitantly she asked how I knew......and my world crashed down, I didn't know and don't know why I asked, it had just occurred to me.

The next couple of months past in a blur, I walked through life, perhaps realizing to some small extent the loss that I had just suffered if not the full extent, I did my exams and went home for the summer and to meet and talk to Robin. I had met with Karen, gone to some museums, had a nice lunch, nothing passionate or dramatic, just an afternoon with a friend, another small decision with big consequences. Not the sole reason for the problem but I guess it was the last straw.

I got home and immediately contacted Robin and we met in a local park to talk, she told me how Abe had said I had cheated on her constantly, how I knew I would never stay with her. All untrue but I guess given her insecurities, my fear of telling her I loved her and my self absorbed allegiance to the plan it gave the lies substance and he got apparently what he had wanted for years and I had provided him the opportunity. Did I argue, fight, cry, beg, no, did I deny the lies, yes for all the good that did. We simply said a loving goodbye with a hug. Yes dear reader I was an idiot again and would be again as far as Robin was concerned but if it is any consolation to you, "karma is a bitch"

I walked through that summer in kind of a daze, and then returned to England to follow the plan, always the plan, not too warm at night, but a comfort just the same. It was that at this point that the plan started to get a bit old, my determination a bit weak, my outlook a bit jaded so like any good underachiever I subconsciously if not consciously set about sabotaging myself. Please don't misunderstand, I did not burn my books and discard the plan, I simply made another small decision. I went out on a Friday night, just a block from my house a new restaurant bar, kind of a miniature Hard Rock Cafe. This was a time when fancy cocktails were coming to England and grilled burgers and steaks were all the rage. Someone had opened a small version down the street, called Arnie's American Restaurant and I decided to go there on the opening night to have a burger and a Margarita. I went in and ordered my meal and drink and got a hockey puck on a bun with a glass of lemon juice and tequila. Needless to say I was not quiet about my dissatisfaction, not rude just naturedly critical. They asked if I could do better and given my previous bar and restaurant experienced I said yes. After a night of mixing drinks and showing the kitchen how to grill a burger and make chili I was hired as a part time manager of what was to become a local jet set hangout.

So lets recap, going to law school by day, now working at what was rapidly becoming a jet set hangout, rubbing elbows with rock stars and the rich, new friends, new women and good money too boot, sounds cool and it was. The problem of course is the plan allows for no distractions and law school even less, so of course despite the extra money, the lifestyle had me spending much more than I was making and despite being allowed to schedule my time around school the work it began to suffer and the expectations and pressures of my father that initially were distant or delayed now got very close and immediate. I wasn't failing but the marks had dropped and money was going fast, things that even the most patient of parents would not tolerate and needless to say my father not being that patient made his presence known. Ultimatums were given, the job was abandoned and the plan reinstated in all its obsessive glory.

In hindsight and in light of future events not yet discussed here, I may have been depressed. The loss of Robin affecting me more than I was willing to admit, self medicating myself on alcohol and a champagne lifestyle, sabotaging school as a self inflicted punishment for letting her go, or I could have just been an idiot again, that periodic and chronic affliction of the underachiever.

During this period there were relationships or perhaps more accurately stated as extended acquaintances. Nothing serious, and at worst perhaps a series of sexual adventures . I was in school and I had if nothing else convinced myself that I had been right, that the plan was the important thing and love was counterproductive.

Also during this period I, despite my commitment to the plan, began to get an idea of what I was getting into, realizing that rather than setting myself free I was building a cage, maybe a gold cage, a fancy cage, but still a cage. I have looked at some notebooks from this period and in reading them noticed there is a slight preoccupation with the story of Sisyphus, the Greek myth about a man that due to his hubris nature, lack of understanding of others and his trickery is punished by the Gods. The punishment in its various guises was to push a boulder up a mountain for eternity only to see it fall to the bottom of the other side upon reaching the summit, an excercise in eternal frustration. Maybe I was having another one of those ESP moments or just seeing that the goals of the plan may not be what I wanted or even expected.

Despite the turmoil, the insomnia and the doubts I did graduate, again solidly in the middle of my class. The only joy of this period of school was that there was no perception of the overachiever, in a law school this really doesn't happen, its too competitive, and the joy of being arrogant and self absorbed in law school is that you fit right in with everyone else.

A Reflective Pause

2009-07-19T14:53:00.001-04:00

Well, dear reader after reading my previous posts I thought I would take a few minutes and maybe clarify a few things.

To date I appear rather driven, well, I guess that's so, it didn't mean I was obsessed only close to it. I did have a childhood, I did have a life, the only thing I can say to maybe put the previous posts in perspective is that anything and everything I did was first weighed or balanced against its effect on my overall goals. I was at the time still naive enough to believe that its the big decisions that make big changes in your life when in fact it is always the little inconsequential decisions that end up making the biggest differences, turning left instead of right, going out instead of staying home, saying no instead of yes. Its always the little things that get you because you are never counting on big consequences to little decisions.

As to my parents, I have perhaps implied the problems more than stated them, the fact is they love me of that there is no doubt as is the fact that they have and always would be there if I needed them. However as mentioned my father while never physically abusive was and is a bully, someone that encouraged you to take guitar lessons and then made a point of forcing you to play in front of people so he could ridicule you, a person that demanded the highest of standards and when met disregarded the achievement but when you came up short was relentless in his condemnation. The real problem that was difficult to deal with was that he was a smart as he thought he was, as honest and upright as he expected you to be and most infuriating, he was as right as he always thought he was., My mother as previously mentioned was and is the most passive aggressive person I have ever met, yet despite this we did have a bond, a kind of battle partnership resulting from the fact that my father's bullying, (emotional) was always directed at my mother or me, never my younger sisters, so we kind of had the misery loves company thing going on. However despite this bond and her need for a confidant in terms of her problems with my father when push came to shove it was always my sisters that she catered too, justifying it to me quite honestly by saying that as I was the only boy she had to balance out the favouritism. I know it always confused me too given the above.

As to me, in addition to and consistent with the previous posts, I am just average nothing special, not too tall, not hard to look at but nothing to write home about, smart enough to get by and dumb enough to get into enough trouble to scare me from doing anything more serious. I don't want to imply by my previous posts that I didn't do anything wrong and that I was some sort of single minded saint. Did I cheat during my main relationships outlined here, no, did I in lesser relationships not mentioned here, yes. Did I make bad decisions, say hurtful things, disregard, ignore, or fail to take time to understand the feelings of others, yes, am I proud of that now, no. Did did I take steps then to address these problems, unfortunately not at the time but later the epiphany that changes this fact and leads to greater downfalls will be discussed.

In the relationships that I have discussed here were there more problems than outlined here, yes, other than the breakups with Chrystal mentioned herein were there problems between Robin and I at times, yes, but they were worked out, or so I thought.

Generally speaking I was a guy, with all the good and bad that the generic terms implies about a a youth and man of my age, not always thinking with my head while at the same time making assumptions about the thoughts and feelings of others that were based more on my insecurities that on the truth of the situation.

To University and Beyond

2009-07-15T12:42:00.003-04:00

To paraphrase that great personal motivator, Buzz Lightyear, "to university and beyond". I had now past the trials of high school and was moving on to university, the plan was coming together but despite my work to get out of high school early my parents decided I was too young to go immediately on to university so I was going to be sent to my Aunt's in England to work for about a year. I know, what a punishment, your hearts bleed for me, being sent to a foreign country to travel and work for a year. You are right not exactly a huge sacrifice or example of parental abuse but it interfered with the plan and believe it or not I did not want to go, but that didn't matter so off I went to England.

I arrived at my Aunt's and as per instructions immediately was sent out to look for employment and amazingly enough obtained a job as a barman at a local pub. All and all I did my time, enjoyed it, made some friends that I have to this day, saw a little of the world, and then returned home now ready to go back to University. However, before that, one summer to get through and a friend to make that while I have lost touch with him over the years still stands as one of my best friends and whose antics still bring fond memories of this time of my life and in a small way played a part in the events that would change my life for the better while at the same time prove to bring about some of the biggest regrets of my life.

After returning home, it was back to the cottage and out to see what had changed in the better part of a year. Some things I knew about, as indicated, Chrystal was now a mother of a young son and living out of town, so I was on my own and went out to the local disco and ran into some female cousins and their friend from the city, Rob.

Now Rob was a different kind of guy, he was probably the sleaziest, chauvinistic, kind, outgoing, generous, crazy person that you could ever meet. We hit it off immediately. When I said he was sleazy and chauvinistic I meant it, yet at the same time he treated every woman I was to ever see him with with a general attitude of love and respect, the problems arose in that he always found them easily replaceable, I could never really reconcile these two things, he could pick up any girl and make her feel like a queen and mean it, then dispose of them without a second thought.

After this first meeting Rob and I hung out constantly, getting into trouble, chasing women and generally being guys. After the summer he had been offered a job in the city that I lived in so he moved there and I started university and we continued our rampage of discos and bars on an almost nightly basis, after all it was the 70's. Now you may think that since I had finally gotten to university and supposedly driven to be a lawyer, that this type of behaviour is contrary to my stated goals, and you would be right but that is the point, Roy and his demented demeanor got me to at least participate in life, something to a large extent I have avoided thus far except with some notable exceptions.

It was during this time I met Karen at the University, actually Rob and I had gone to a university residence party and while there I met Karen. She was attractive but not the most beautiful women in the room but there was something about Karen. She was about 5-6 years older than I was and had returned to school to study archeology as she had worked on an dig in Egypt the year before. She was blonde and about five foot nothing with a quiet strength and self assurance that literally shone from her. We talked and laughed and eventually ended back in her room, as I started to essentially make my move she stopped me and said "first nighters are generally one nighters".......I promptly asked her out for the next night much to her amusement. At this point dear reader, although unheard at the time there undoubtedly was another click as another part of my future fell into place and events set into motion that would again change my life.

For the next year we dated, she was an amazing and passionate person that was totally self assured, knowing what she wanted professionally, physically, intellectually and sexually. Needless to say it was, for the better part of a year both an enlightening and instructive time. Then it happened...

One night as we were lying in bed about 8 months into the relationship Karen told me she was pregnant and before I could react or say anything she told me I had two choices, I could make her have the child but only if I stayed around to help her raise the baby or she could get an abortion. You know you might think that after everything I have said prior to this point that the decision would have been easy and I would have been quick to take the option removing the so called problem, but the fact is much to my surprise that was not the case. I in fact tried to figure out a way we could do it. When I suggested this the look on her face was one of terror, as usual I was thinking of my plan not hers and when that became apparent the decision became clear and I went to the doctors with her and sat with her in the recovery room afterwords, we never spoke about it again and few months later she was chosen to go on another dig and while we would always be friends and connected in ways that I did not appreciate at the time, we parted, leaving me with what I always came to view as the biggest regret of my life. Unfortunately it was not to be the only one that I would acquire in my pursuant of the plan.

After this Rob and I threw ourselves back into the 70's , generally going to the bar at night to party all the while during the day I was moving on with the plan. Given the new three semester system at the university I had figured out a way to get my three year BA in two years, it would entail going to school year round with little break in between but it would allow me to make up my lost year in England. So basically I was living at home as the university was in my home town, working my butt off all day and partying with Rob most nights. Then on one of these nights out with Rob, I met Robin, in hindsight dear reader I believe I actually heard the click as another part of my future became locked in.

Robin again was a beauty, totally out of my league, a few years older than I , five foot two, green eyes, petite and to give you an idea, she always reminded me of Natalie Wood, and in fact looked much like her. She was quick to smile and laugh and had a class and style that was far beyond her years. One funny thing though, with her classic, conserative demeanor and style, her natural gate or walk was a strut, like a headlining stripper on her way to the pole. It was really quite sexy to watch, this classic beauty oozing such sexuality in her walk. It used to bug her but she couldn't stop it, you could always spot her walking in a crowd, a butterfly among bumblebees.

After this we were inseparable, even Rob allowed her to intrude into our friendship and accepted her like one of the guys. While she may have been one of the guys to Rob, our relationship was literally like a soppy movie. Drives in the country, days at amusement parks, nights of passion and belonging, but still the plan loomed.

We continued through school and despite my best efforts in some ways it resembled high school, the gift of gab allowed me to look smarter than I was and while my marks were again solidly in the middle I was the one asked to be leader for various professor sponsored projects and I was the one that others came to for help. To this day I have never figured this out as it was not something I sought or encouraged, in alot of cases I was just trying to make it through myself especially after the stresses of two years of non stop school started to get to me.

It was during this period that Robin said she loved me, this was still something I had a problem with, even Karen hadn't said she loved me. I remember the night and my silence and the look on her face. I remember explaining to her in some ways my fear, the plan and how I wasn't sure I could love her with this road ahead of me. She accepted this with a smile, that knowing smile that I swear is genetically specific to women.

We continued on and it was only her that got me through at times until we graduated. It would appear that the events to come would be clear but unfortunately as always with the plan nothing is that clear or easy. Due to the nature of the semester system we graduated about 6 or 7 months prior to admissions for any law school, so while I applied we both got jobs and worked, We were not living together, as at this point I was sharing an apartment with a Teaching Assistant named Abe, a character in this drama that I would come to regret.

I had not had a word from any law school admission offices and despite public perception I was not the shoo in everyone thought so I applied to the top ten law schools in the United Kingdom, after all if I got turned down at least I could say I was rejected by the best. Much to my surprise I was accepted by two of the top five, one of which happened to be in the same city as my Aunt in England. Rob at this point had gone back to college and being a bit of a math wiz raced through a commercial welding course and upon graduation got a job with the nuclear power authority in a neighbouring town, not to scare you but he lied about his experience on his application and his first job was checking welds on nuclear generators. Funny but very scary, I later learned that over the years he was so good at his job he travelled the world as a consultant.

As I had not heard from local schools I accepted the English one figuring I could always cancel or come back if necessary. The problem was that this meant leaving Robin, and as pathetic as it sounds, it was alright with me as the plan was the thing and nothing could interfere with that. I knew I would miss her but the sadness and regret that I knew I should have had was not there, something that perhaps writing this blog will help me understand.

About a month before I was to leave Robin came to the little restaurant where I was working as a bartender/waiter and told me that she was coming to England with me, no discussion, no permission being asked, she was simply coming with me. Dear reader I hope the depth of love and the willingness to sacrifice for that love is obvious to you here. Unfortunately at the time it wasn't to me. Same person, same problem in retrospect, because I couldn't understand how someone could love me especially that much either I didn't believe it or couldn't understand it. I see now of course that this love, like Chrystal's love was something to be cherished, I only wish I had seen it at the time.

I left in September and Robin joined me in October in England as I entered what I believed was the final phase of the plan.

High School

2009-07-13T23:01:00.003-04:00

I have read my previous post, edited it a few times to try to avoid sounding too whiny and in doing so think that the chronological approach to this blog isn't working and not conveying the things I want to get across. So with that in mind as this is my first blog, while I will deal with the issues I will simply review the incidents or events that will shape or form a foundation for what is to come which suffice it to say would be enough material to keep Jerry Springer busy for years, never mind Dr. Phil and Oprah.

High school in the 70's I don't think was any different that it is now, the technology is different, eight tracks to Ipods, the desires, fears and goals are definitely the same, perhaps less innocence now than then, maybe more limits to behaviour not because we didn't feel the same frustrations just that we never considered guns and and bombs as an option. I guess that is the sad testament to our times that the adult options of violence and death have percolated down.

In the 70's we simply were unaware that we had missed the free love of the 60's and didn't realize the fear to come in the 80's at least as far as sex was concerned and after all when you come right down to it the desire to fit in, to be popular, to at least not be invisible always came down to sex, for both the guys and girls, getting the best boyfriends and girlfriends....any boyfriend or girlfriend, all part of fitting in, but still we did have disco.

Its too bad that I or we didn't know at the time that whether you fit in at high school, were popular, or were even visible doesn't matter as far as life is concerned. Its an educational day prison, a right of passage, the dark before the dawn, how many psyches would be saved, violent outbursts avoided if we simply let Grade 9 students know that it just doesn't matter. Do your work and forget the rest because the popular cheerleader stands as much chance of being a divorced mother of two living in public housing as you do, that the top jock can end up in a dead end job cheating on his wife and hating his life as much as you did in high school. The point being that high school is not life it is simply the waiting room, life starts afterwards, if you make high school your life you can never escape it because its not real and will never happen again. If I was going to give any advice to anyone that may read this about high school I would recall the old movie, Meatballs, with Bill Murray, when he was discussing a inter camp competition and he got his campers to chant IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER, over and over again. It doesn't, if you go to college, nobody cares about your high school, if you go to work they care even less, so just go, do your work the best you can, if you have a friend as dorky as you, appreciate him or her, if you can't get a date, deal with it, there's always college or nightclubs, do your time, get what you can from it and get out, its not worth the energy to get upset about because IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER.

Now the I have waxed philosophically I will talk about my time in high school, not that I discovered the above at that time rather avoided it out of a combination of luck and apathy. You see while I had all the desire to fit in and be popular, I for the most part was what I describe as a nine to fiver at high school. I'm not a jock although I joined the ski team, not because I am the greatest skier, nobody on the team was, the teacher in charge was a partyer and we generally went to the meets on the basis that if everyone got down the hill we could win team points challenges, generally we just joined to have an excuse to go skiing during school hours, when we got old enough to drink, eighteen at the time, the party became more interesting and it got harder for everyone to get down the hill, although it did work for a while, we never won a race but because all the serious overachievers kept falling, we won one or two team awards. That was the extent of my athletic endeavours.

When I started at school like everyone I wanted to fit in so being the 70's I wanted to be cool so of course I went dressed appropriately, large bell bottomed jeans, platform boots, satin shirt, and red serge Mountie jacket and the mandatory long hair, kind of a Sargent Pepper wannabe. Kind of a strange visual I know, but believe it or not I was fairly cool, especially in the fall when I added the bear skin stole (3 foot long wrap) out of the Halloween box, forgive me I was a budding fashonista. I had friends, the usual clique, not jocks, not band, not tokers, not gear heads, not nerds, sound familiar, just kids that were left over, we hung out, ate lunch together that was about it. We weren't the beautiful people, we weren't the smartest, we were just us, we didn't even hang out on the weekends that much, I guess it was a survival thing.

While I had the usual universal desires and insecurities that haunt all high school students, I had them to a lesser degree as I at least managed to blend in, and given the outfit that is scary in itself, and had a group of others that did the same, further to that as I said I was a nine to fiver, in other words I had a place to go on the weekends.

My parents had a cottage in my father's home town and I had an uncle that travelled the 3 hours there every Friday and returned every Sunday so I left and went to a town comprised mainly of relatives, my father had 16 brothers and sisters all with 3 to 4 kids of their own, my age or slightly older. I fit in easily of course you couldn't sneeze without a cousin or uncle reporting it, thus the pressure was off, except if you did anything wrong, then everyone knew.

It was a resort town, lots of lakes and rivers, ski hills and tourists, and tourists daughters, perfect for a hormone addicted 15 year old while unknowingly providing a sanctuary from the inherent pressures of high school. You should note that no matter how I appear to you at this point I was generally a fairly responsible kid, abject fear of your father will do that, anyway on most of these trips I was on my own and I kept the peace, or at least tried, I didn't burn the place down and to my knowledge over the years nobody got pregnant. Now that the basics have been disclosed it brings me to the various incidents that in hindsight have brought me to where I am now.

By the time I entered high school the decisions of Grade 6 had taken hold, I still wanted to be a lawyer, I believed because it was what I wanted to be, not just because my father was a lawyer, but again simple decisions make for an easy road especially when the goal was so socially acceptable, not like I was planning to be a rock star or a super hero. I was going to conform, have a profession, be a pillar of the community The present problem was that I was in high school and my initial goals were to fit in, have friends and get layed, someday, somehow with someone, quite frankly anyone. These lofty goals do not seem so tough now but at the time they were akin to climbing Everest without oxygen.

So now its time to tell you what happened, as discussed above I am going to discuss various incidents and while I will try to keep it chronological some things overlapped so the incidents or events will be the focus not the time.

The first year of high school was nothing exciting, just classes and going to the cottage on the weekends, in the winter going skiing and chasing girls, not in the smooth stud kind of way, or in the obsessive stalker kind of way, more like a dog chasing cars, not knowing what to do with it if he caught it, this also sums of my level of success, some crushes and a few kisses. Then came the summer.

In the summers I hung out with my cousin Dave, later to be known as Disco Dave, not an insult at the time, but I digress. Two guys driven to have sex, but unsure of what it was and how to go about it, so like most teens with the attention span of houseflies, we gave up and just hung out, waterskiing, playing lacrosse and going fishing. During this time we met Tim and Tom, twin brothers that were new in town that started to hang out with us. We went out in my Dad's boat and lived a teenage dream life, in between working at my uncle's garage pumping gas of course, after all every dream has a price.

Then I met Donna, sister to Tim and Tom and things changed, sort of....maybe....I think.

Donna was taller than I was, a year older than I was and definitely more experienced than I was, not to say that she was not an innocent, it was just that like most girls she had a clue, while like most teenage boys I knew she had something I wanted I just didn't know what it was.

So as the weeks went by we kissed and petted, slow and tentative not knowing where it was going, then one night she said to me she wanted to do it........you can almost hear the drumroll. Well I was kind of put on the spot, she was assuming that I may have done it before, and in fact that I knew how to do it. Of course the answer to both questions was no.

To skip to the chase there was alot of fumbling around, heavy breathing and then a mess, not exactly the first time story that appears in the romance novels especially as it was followed by mind numbing fear.

After the deed I walked home, clearly convinced that the next day she would appear at my door with a baby, as Bill Cosby once said, the kid would appear like a Polaroid picture, snap, click.....daddy. The next morning I was working, pumping gas as I watched my cousin Dave running up the main street towards me, the fear returned, he was obviously coming to tell me I was a father, the game was up, life was over. He ran up to me and said "did you her about Donnna" to say that I almost had a heart attack is an understatement. Ok, what, I said, bracing for the news, he then went on to tell me that at 5 in the morning after her father had gone to work, her mother had a moving van show up, loaded up all the furniture in the house and left, quite literally never to be seen again. I know now the reaction was wrong, insensitive and chauvinistic but just the same, the clouds parted, the sun shone down and the angels sang.

You would think that this taught me a lesson wouldn't you..... ya right.

The next day cousin Dave and I were out in my Dad's boat, cruising past the Town dock and we saw a girl that we had seen numerous times before, Chrystal. to say Chrystal was out of our league is like saying we had a shot at Raquel Welsh whenever we chose to get around to it.

Chrystal was what was called locally a "dock rat", one of those kids that swam off the Town dock. Not an insult, just one of those local designations that stick in a small town. She was a vision, not just a teenage memory or gilding the lily, by any and all objective standards she was an incredible beauty, long strawberry blonde hair down the middle of her back, the unblemished face of an angel and a body at fifteen that would bring the saints to tears for a life wasted in chastity.

As we slowly moved by the dock, trying to watch her in her pink bikini and not be as obvious as everyone else watching her, she dove in the water, swam up to the boat and said hello. I would like to say I was cool and controlled but quite frankly as you would expect I was reduced to a silent puddle of flesh and hormones, although Dave saved the day by asking if she wanted to go for a boat ride. She accepted, with her friend of course, Doreen, I don't remember Doreen much as I couldn't take my eyes of Chrystal and honestly it would have been impossible for any girl to look attractive or even be remembered when standing beside her.

Within a week much to my amazement then and now, Chrystal and I were dating and continued to date from age 15 to 20 on and off and on and off, a series of events that will be discussed shortly. However at the risk of getting too far ahead but in an effort to again show you dear reader how even the smallest decisions can change things and shape your life forever, I will let you know that Chrystal is the mother of my now 9 year old son, but I will get to that later.

Back to age 15, I had hit the home run, to to say I was feeling pretty good about myself was an understatement and despite the usual teenage insecurities and my growing parentally induced self esteem issues, I was riding pretty high.

About two weeks later my time had come or as I was to find out thirty five years later, our time had come. Our first time was not unusual, not something out of a romance novel, the usual teenage petting and fear, but all the same consummated for sure this time. It was again not my idea, not the result of a pre-determined path or a smooth seduction but again her idea, her determination that she loved me and wanted this to happen. This is important because it is the first time someone other than my family had said they loved me, and to be honest it wasn't something heard in the family that often. In hindsight its a interesting concept and I have thought for years as to my feelings at the time and at later times when the words were said to me and it is my honest belief that I didn't believe it then or later, not to say that I took advantage of her feelings, which I guess in a way I did, but it wasn't conscious, I think that while I heard it, and accepted it, I just couldn't for some reason believe that someone that beautiful could or would love me.

This relationship as it proceeded can be described in many ways, passionate, on again off again, tumultuous, or just somewhat strange. We spent the next years as I traveled to the cottage weekends and holidays either making love or fighting, waiting to make love or to fight.

Its funny how we always assume that beautiful things or beautiful people are perfect simply by the fact of their beauty, not to say that there was anything wrong with her, she was simply like the rest of us, insecure, she didn't see her beauty, the staring eyes and sighs as she walked by, she was simply Chrystal and she loved me, she was also jealous of me, possessive of me and resented the fact that I had to leave during the week, was driven to be a lawyer, that I would go away to school and certainly leave her someday. In hindsight, she was right, I was driven, there was the plan, the decision was made and there was no room for variation or compromise. Chrystal's reaction was to breakup with me every Sunday and call me back every Friday when I came up, kind of silly, now understandable and during the summers well it was just on and off depending on mood and events. Some of these breaks were longer than others and as we got older other relationships intervened as our goals were worlds apart.

I always believed that Chrystal wanted to get married and pregnant, not necessarily in that order and this didn't fit with my plans, funny how trying to fit the relationship to the plan was never a consideration. Despite her beauty, her love for me, her determination to force my hand I never considered this a forever thing the priority was always the plan. Did I love her, I don't know, did I care for her, yes, did I want her yes, within the limits, the question arises did my disbelief of her love for no good reason other than my own insecurities make me incapable of loving her or anyone else.

As I approached University, the relationship broke down again and this time she went out with someone else and got pregnant. I was always amazed that I had never gotten her pregnant even though it was one of my greatest fears, its not as if we took any reasonable precautions, dumb and lucky. Nine months later I heard she was giving birth and went to the hospital, I didn't see her but stood at the nursery and looked at her new son Jacob, and while it did cross my mind that he could have been mine if things were different, I knew that I had to keep moving to achieve the goals I had set so long ago.

Another part of high school dear reader is going to be a bit hard to reconcile with the above and while it only lasted about a year its hard to explain whether it was simply an alternative attempt to fit in or belong to something or an attempt to explore who I was, I don't know, so I will simply tell you what happened.

As I have said the 70's while not that different from the present did have their moments, after all we were coming out of the 60's a time of rebellion and self discovery, free love, drugs and communes, all experiments in life. First off, I was never into the drugs, like any high school then and now, they were not hard to come by, chemicals scared me and indicated a loss of control that I could not allow and pot, well pot made me horny and sleepy, not a good combination at any time, kind of self defeating I always thought.

There were other movements though, one of those was religion, meditation with the Beatles, various cults and a general trend to make standard religion more relevant. I became involved with the Jesus People movement, not the glassy eyed, turn over your money, drink the poison koolaide type Jesus People movement, rather kind of a Baptist, Evangelical make it groovy type movement. This entailed going to bible studies, church retreats, coffee houses where they sang alot of Cat Stevens and Godspell soundtrack songs, and we carried around these denim covered bibles the size of the tablets that came down the mountain with Moses.

At this point you are wondering what is going on, here I am saying I committed myself for at least a year to this essentially fundamentalist christian group, with all that entails, while on the weekends and holidays I am travelling three hours away and banging this blonde beauty that is madly in love with me. Well I told you that it is hard to reconcile which is a nice and self protecting way of saying it was hugely hypocritical.

These days comparable groups are seen as the clean cut do gooder, nerdy types that perhaps have grown up in an evangelical home or on the other hand those kids that feel alienated and use the groups and church to fit in to something. I on the other hand while certainly wanting to fit in like any other kid, don't think I really needed it and while I commited myself to the group, I don't recall total conformity rather alot of questioning and rejection of the illogical portions of the christian lifestye and doctrine that never really made sense to me. Besides it could be alot of fun and didn't put demands on me that I wasn't willing to accept. The other kids in the rather large and growing group contrary to the present perspective described above were in fact the cool kids, not the cheerleaders and jocks but the hippy, cool kids, older than most of us and looked up to as the ones that had the answers.

Like anything in high school it was one part substance and three parts hype and the kind of excitement of belonging to something that is new and maybe a bit rebellious. After all we just met at bible studies and disucssed doctrine like a bunch of Rabbis at a Pharasee convention, believing that our opinions mattered and that our insights were deep and earth shattering. I have to admit that my totally hypocritical position and heretic views made the arguments fun if nothing else.

In thinking back, its funny that my clique of friends didn't alienate me during this period, they more or less said well thats interesting, whats for lunch, and when my involvement faded out they just kind of accepted me back, actually pretty cool for that time and now given the nature of cliques.

Throughout school I was a solid B student, a few A's in the mix to keep the parents happy, although seen as a straight A student although I never was one, constantly asked at the end of the year why I wasn't on the honour roll, not a leader although I was seen as one and expected to be one no matter how hard I tried to dodge it. Its funny but I really didn't encourage or try to fake these virtues they just happened no matter how hard I tried to avoid them and perhaps it the true sign of an above average underachiever, the perception that you are an achiever when your not, so when the truth comes out the disappointment is greater especially if you achieved just enough to keep the perception alive.

The one thing I did do, simply because of the plan was finish my 5 years of high school in four, this was possible due to our new semester and credit system that allowed me to get the required credits to graduate by taking extra course load and a couple of summer school classes. I state this because in dispite the above the plan, the decision to be a lawyer, to stick to that Grade 6 decision and gain my father's acceptance, was still the foundation, the overiding drive moving me relentlessly forward.

So here is high school, average guy that fits in, percieved as a mover and shaker in the school, smart with high grades, a leader amongst his friends and for a period in the growing and popular hip and groovy Jesus People movement, with his future planned out and fully capable of making it work, an overachiever of the first order on the local level when actually an average guy avoiding the stresses of school by doing the nine to five thing, with average marks that he struggles at times to get, a leader that doesn't want to be and tries to avoid at all costs, a semi pious hypocrite with a double life.

High school was now over, I graduated firmly in the middle of the class, a year ahead of my friends, no graduation ceremony, no prom, I just essentially disappeared from high school.

The review of some of the things that happened in school I think give an indication of who I was, what I did and undoubtedly will shed some light on future events. They also confirms one of the earlier things I said, in that the events, the struggles and insecurities of high school, when considered in light of a life just don't matter.

Preamble

2009-07-13T15:16:00.003-04:00

The beginning of a blog, I am over fifty, this is something new so I apologize in advance for the newbie clumsiness.

Before I get to the new stuff I think its important to give you the back story, the who is he, where did he come from sort of thing.

Born the first son of a lawyer and a school teacher, the lawyer demanding and semi distant, the teacher, passive aggressive in light of the lawyers strength of personality and personal insecurity's, other than than not a bad childhood, not privileged but comfortable not a genius but smart enough to fool those that weren't. Despite being the first and only son with two younger sisters I was placed in the position of constantly trying to prove myself to my father, while forced into the job of being my mother's confidant in the face of of her frustrations caused by the fact that passive aggressive doesn't matter to someone that has an overdeveloped sense of self entitlement.

I won't go into the childhood, it was average or just below, money while not thrown around was never an issue or at least from a kid's perspective, we always had what we needed and most of what we wanted but with depression era parents nothing was easy or free. School was the usual, always one of those kids on the cusp, start the first couple of days in the average class, moved to the bottom of the advanced class, just enough gab to make the cut. Always sounded smarter than I was, able to answer the question while the gifted kid dealt with his shyness and fear.

While thinking about the previous few paragraphs I was tempted to cut to high school, that bastion of adolescent terror and hormones, but in thinking about it the basics start in Grade Six, scary that the foundation of a life starts so early but as you will see dear reader decisions made then haunt me and set me on a path that has led me to the now, the crossroads so to speak.

Ok, Grade 6, not generally considered the the birthplace of the future but in my case, in its way, the beginning of the end or optimistically the middle. You see, decisions were made in Grade 6 and events happened that shaped my path whether by coincidence or design. First off, this is when people begin to ask you what you want to be, what you want to do with your life, kind of silly I know since back then the only thing I knew for sure is that I wanted a slot car set for Christmas, nevertheless the question was asked and I answered, I wanted to be a lawyer like my Dad.

So, you say, you wanted to be like your Dad, the one individual you were trying to please, big deal, what a surprise, you were in Grade 6, you could have said fireman, astronaut, who cares, aaah my friend you would normally be right, but as I think back on in it, in the light of the present, I heard a click, like a door locking as it closes, unnoticed but an irrevocably closed door just the same. When you go to a small school in a small town with kids that you will see every school day for years to come, people remember, they assume and its easier to let them, meet their expectations and walk the road always feeling you can take the next turn off whenever it comes, laziness and acceptance is an easy road to walk, it requires nothing but a nod and a smile.

Suffice it to say an immature, easy decision set events in motion that if you put up with these ramblings long enough you will see was and is in fact the beginning. Grade 6 held other milestones that illustrate the now.

I was, much to my quiet pride voted Master Courtesy by the teachers and students, a title awarded to someone that was polite, pleasing, held doors and helped others in the school without expectation of acknowledgement or reward. Pretty heady stuff as it was announced to the school, a point of pride and achievement.

So that great day leaving school anxiously thinking of the praise that would be heaped upon me for this achievement when I arrived home I started to walk, yes back in the 60's we walked to school to those readers to young to remember. As I approached the cross walk I received the geers of some of the other kids and one in particular, Glen. Yes I do remember his last name, its sad that I do, moments like this do stick in your mind, God knows why. In any event as we crossed the road he teased and ridiculed and then he pushed me again and again taunting me. I took it and I took it, after all I was Master Courtesy, then I pushed back and told him to stop and he punched me, it hurt but nothing serious and I walked home.

I arrived home and announced to my mother that I was Master Courtesy...., fireworks, drum rolls, gasps of delight, warm affirmation or just acknowledgement, I think you know where I am going with this. Needless to say after the lukewarm response, I got angry, the more I thought the angrier I got, so I walked back to the school and there was the source of my pain playing soccer. I walked up to him and punched him in the nose as hard as I could.....

After it was determined that his nose was not broken the Principal sent me home. I went home and when my father arrived I told him about being voted Master Courtesy, then about being hit and then going back and hitting Glen. I awaited my doom, and it never came, while my honour was dismissed as a middle school gimic the later punch was treated with praise, an appropriate action when dealing with aggression. Ok, I punched a bully, big deal, but even then I knew it was wrong, these events burned in my memory, for two reasons, I lost the title of Master Courtesy and more significantly it was the first and last time I ever raised my hand in anger or stood up for myself personally. And another door closed.

So dear readers, to recap, we have a Grade 6 student that has chosen a profession of confrontation while at the same time renouncing personal conflict. The plot thickens....

Cut to high school, there was Grade 7 and 8 but they were those years of conformity and puberty, the first kiss, the first girlfriend, and the desire to fit in and get more of the same, hormones are a bitch.