Tour Loko’s final 36 hours: Las Vegas. Just a couple nights of rest, relaxation and catching up on some reading. Ricky just placed another log on the fire and Gene poured some more hot water in the potpourri bowl. Nights like these remind us that quiet time is important. -JM
In the words of nickholmes … before every moment, there is a moment.
I’ve felt like shit since June. It’s been one infection or cold or flu after another. I know I’m more susceptible than most - you’d think having a super powered immune system would prevent that but it pretty much works in the opposite way. A couple of weeks ago I had some shocking news from my gynaecologist - he thinks some drugs I’ve been on in the past has basically destroyed my eggs so there is a good likelihood that I’m in fertile. That hit me like a ton of bricks. To top it off during the breast exam there were some suspicious nodules and a lump that he wasn’t happy about - so he sent me for a diagnostic mammogram and an ultrasound. Before going I talked to a co-worker who told me she had the same tests, same clinic and the radiologist told her before she left that everything was normal. In fact everyone I’ve talked to had this same experience. I went in today with the expectation of experiencing the same. I got nothing. They wouldn’t tell me anything - only that my doctor would follow up with me soon. I could see the technician making notations on a breast map. I hate waiting and I keep poking at the spots where I can feel something and now my breast hurts. I really thought that they would tell me something today and I feel ridiculous for wanting to cry but it’s getting harder to hold back the tears.
May 21, 2007
Today I gave a realtively new friend a beautifully wrapped box of door knobs.
I was at this friends’ house on Friday. I had been hesitant about going because as luck would have it, the house is only a few doors down from my grandma’s old house. I’d go on about how weird it is, but I’m in a place to fully accept that coincidences aren’t random and there is something I need to get from this.
I checked out the backyard right away and realized I could see through the chain link fence to what used to be my grandma’s yard. It was dark and in the way night, a flood of memories and a little wine plays tricks on your vision I was certain I could see the shed that used to hide in the back corner of her yard. Even more certain that I could hear what was happeing inside the rusting walls that were torn down long ago.
From there I went to the front and walked down the sidewalk to face 1501 Forest Street. I stood, unmoving until I stopped seeing what used to be there and could take in the changes. I told a story about when I was small, there was a woman, a nurse, who lived almost across the street. I would swim in her pool in the summers. She still lives there, I learned.
I didn’t manage to stay inside my friend’s house long. It was a test of sorts - I’ve been looking for a new place to live and I was offered to share the house until I could pull my long term plans together. Walking into the kitchen and through to the living room I was walking back in time. The trim, the doors, the door knobs were all the same - as I imagine they are in most houses in this area of that age. I was transported. Over and over in my head was the door. Not breathing, afraid to move, waiting to see if the door knob would turn.
I had the most awesome run I’ve had in a very long time. Yes, it was on a treadmill - don’t judge me all you running snobs, I have to start back somewhere. AND the great thing about a treadmill is that I can just go until I want to puke and I don’t have to make it back to my starting point. It also lets me have pretend races with the people on the treadmills around me. Love it!
Thank you Dr. Lawson. You are my favourite person today!
Wish You Were Here
…maybe you will tell me all about it when you’re in the mood to lose your way with words….
May 18, 2007
The process is horrible.
Just so you all know - if anyone finds themselves in the same position, or is approached by someone in the same position wondering if it’s worth pursuing criminal charges in a historical sexual abuse case…the process is horrible.
It has nothing to do with benefiting the vicitm. In fact, right now, I’m not even considered the victim. I’m a witness. Not even a complainant at this point. Just a witness.
And so far from what I can tell, I’m the one under investigation. There has been no charge laid. A big difference between the police and SIU. The few people I know who are police are stunned that there has been no charge yet. In the policing world - our locals anyway - are mandated to lay a charge when a statement has been made - unless there is clear evidence that the complaint is false, they HAVE to lay a charge. Not SIU. Their mandate is to increase public confidence in the police. Big difference between the two.
I thought going into this that it was going to unburden me, I felt at the beginning that I had given it away somehow. It’s turned into a much bigger burden than before, because now I have to justify. Why haven’t I talked about all of the gory details to people I’ve confided in? Why did I make a criminal injuries claim for one offender, but not the other? Why didn’t I come forward sooner? Why have I talked about it to so many people, but in such vague terms?
I haven’t gone into fine detail with every disclosure because it hurts to. Because it makes other people uncomfortable as well as mysef and because when I do people see me differently.
I’ve made only one criminal injuries claim (so far) because the process is humiliating and exhausting and I don’t know if it’s worth the work yet.
I didn’t come forward sooner because I wasn’t able to. I didn’t come forward sooner because I was afraid of the process - and I was right to be.
I don’t have any other answers - stop asking me the same fucking questions.
What I want to know why the investigation hasn’t turned to my uncle. Why when given names of officers that have been close to **** who are actually aware or involved in other assaults with him - have the investigators not even written their names down as a possible person to interview? When the officer I spoke with originally said that he wasn’t surprised by anything I was saying but couldn’t continue the interview because he had just played golf with **** a short time ago - why has he not been interviewed by the SIU to clarify ”why” he’s not surprised?
And if he’s not surprised why does he still have a fucking job keeping our city “safe”???
The process is horrible. If anyone ever asks.
May 12, 2007
I went back to the houses - my grandmas house where almost all of my abuse happened and to the house I grew up in where for the most part I felt safe until my grandfather ruined that on Christmas….thats another story I won’t get into now.
That birch tree in front of my grandma’s house - it’s gone.
There’s a stub where it used to be and a new tree in it’s place. A much prettier one at that - part of me feels sad though. I wanted to go back to look at the scars on the trunk - I thought it would be interesting to see my height at the time - where my hands could reach in relation to now.
Maybe it’s best it’s gone…part of me wonders if all the scars killed it, another part says all things come to an end and in it’s place is something far more beautiful.
May 10, 2007
I met with one of the investigators today. I thought it was going to be maybe 20 minutes, so I asked her to come to where I work - we could slip in the board room. It turned into almost 2 hours.
We went through a list I made of all the people I can remember that I told about the abuse over the years - and the circumstances. It turns out there are alot that I can remember - I wonder if they will remember too?
For some reason CPIC needs the address of the house I was living in at the time and the address of my grandmother’s house, since that’s where it abuse happened. (maybe Dan can shed some light on what CPIC is exactly because I really don’t know - I thought it was a some kind of registry that keeps people’s criminal records)
Anyway - I don’t know those addresses - I know where the houses are, but I can’t remember the addresses - which means I have to physically go to the houses to get the addresses. I’ve been trying to build up enough ooomph to do that tonight and I just can’t bring myself to go. It’s funny because I used to keep an eye on the open house section in the newspaper always thinking that if I could i would go through my grandma’s house. A few years ago I got tired of waiting and I went to the house, knocked on the door and asked the person who was living there if I could take a walk through - of course I told him that I spent a lot of time there when I was growing up. It amazed me to see how different some things were, and how some things hadn’t changed - like the way the closet door in the master bedroom creaked and how uneven the floor in the spare bedroom was. It amazes me even more that anyone would open their house to a stranger to walk through. The anomolies of a small town.
I know that I don’t have to go inside this time, but even still it feels like what I imagine a war zone to feel like and I just don’t want to be there. There’s a birch tree in the front yard that I hate - it’s a ridiculous thing for me to hate a tree, but I remember standing in the front yard for what felt like hours not wanting to go into the house as the sun was going down and peeling the bark off. It would drive my grandpa crazy because he thought it would kill the tree, I think I did it on purpose. What always got to me was that no matter how many layers I peeled off, the tree never died, it would grow these kinds of scars where I had removed bark, but it just kept on living. I think over the years I’ve felt like that tree. Maybe it won’t be so bad to go back and take a visit.
I learned today which hospital ***** is in. He just had part of his bladder removed and he’s under going treatment for prostate cancer. He hasn’t been served notice that he is under investigation - the local PD wants to wait until he’s out of hospital. The investigator has assured me that no matter what happens with his health, the investigation will go on.
I wonder if the stress of it will kill him.
I wonder if I’ll feel guilty if it does.
May 8, 2007
I haven’t said much lately about the investigation because theree really hasn’t been much to say.
I’m meeting with the investigators on thursday. They called me tonight to give me an update and to let me know that there was a very slow start to the investigation because they were having trouble locating my uncle. Turns out he’s in the hospital in ****** - prostate cancer. Regardless they’ve said that the investigation is in full force now and I need to sign some consents so that they can talk to my counsellors and therapists of the past and present. I have to make a list of everyone of told even minor detail to over the years.
That’s all for now - despite being triggered easily I’m relatively calm and had such an awesome day today in T.O. - I’ve got some great people in my life. I’m pretty lucky.
More as I know it
for the things that take up too much space inside me but look profound because I put it on a blog
