The Prodigal Son

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

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.

Preamble

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.