December.

I've written and backspaced the first paragraph of this post probably a dozen times by now. It's hard. That's about all I can say. December is a hard month for many, for so many reasons. And it's almost over, thank the gods. I didn't think I'd make it through without a complete meltdown, but I'm lucky to have understanding friends and family, and a solid partner at my side. Even as the west coast saw it's first actual winter in several years, I managed to keep it together while everyone's world was seemingly ending, under a blanket of ice and snow. Once you get out on the roads, you can really tell who's from the east coast. We spent Christmas day helping push people out of the snow, and taking on mini winter rescue missions while on our fishing trip.

2016 flew by so fast, I didn't have a moment to panic despite how absolutely crazy, turbulent and ever-changing it has been. Pain, joy, loss, celebration. A balance of extremes. Connections and deaths so unexpected. Lessons learned that I wasn't even aware were in the program. I could have never imagined in January where I'd have ended up twelve months later. Sitting on the stairs of an unfinished basement, awaiting further instruction on how to assemble the section of duct I'm working on, with all the required takeoffs spaced appropriately to accommodate the necessary heat runs.. HVAC. Who knew I'd get into sheet metal. Not me..

Then again, most of this year took me by surprise. What else is new, I guess. Life is an adventure. Expect the unexpected, and all that.

Most of last winter was spent living with my good friend and his dog in a pickup truck in the woods. No running water, no cell service, no power but the truck battery, no heat besides the fire. I spent most of the season laid off with the occasional day of gardening, and eventually found a temporary greenhouse job at a hardware store in the city. Nights were long and cold, but thankfully never lonely.

Spring meant more work for me. My friend and I had to part ways so that I could be closer to the city. I set out with my tent, moved my gear into a storage locker, and worked nearly 7 days a week to get caught up. Between two jobs, one of them with horribly long hours, I burnt out after a few quick months. I was lucky enough to find a couch to crash, and find better work before summer rolled around.

Shortly after turning thirty-one, I met someone whose lifestyle inspired me to change my own. I finally acquired a BC driver's license, and swore off working weekends. Weekends are for adventure, for fun, for church, aka nature. I spent every weekend of the spring camping, traveling, venturing out on the water, and making new friends. My connection with that particular individual ended abruptly, and shortly thereafter, I made an unexpected journey home.

One of my closest friends, a brother so to speak, passed away suddenly in late June. The thought of his passing is still difficult to conceive. The journey home stirred my mind and my spirit on so many levels. I nearly stayed. I miss my friends, my family.. [which extends far beyond any blood-line]. Returning west was one of the most difficult decisions I had to make, but I had a feeling the coast wasn't done with me yet. For now the only cure for my anxiety lies up in the mountains, and along these river banks.

I went back to work until it broke me. My partner [who I thankfully met along the way] finally convinced me to stop working a job that was slowly killing me, and instead, work towards my freedom. We bought a vehicle so that I could find my own direction. I found some contract work that I could schedule around my existing life, and rode it out until I found something even better. Trades.

And so begins another new chapter of my life. One completely unlike any other, and I have no idea how it's gonna go. No pre-determined schedules, no guaranteed paychecks, long-term contracts, everything is day-to-day. Just playing it as it comes. This spring the challenge will be to keep steady work rolling in, find an actual place to live, and start planning for the future. Finding a plot to build a garden would be nice, it's been too long.

While I'm at it, I'll take this opportunity to call myself out one last time this year.. with my focus being scattered all over the map [literally], I've completely lost track of my own physical health. Though I have a better grasp of my mental health now than I have in a few years, my body is suffering. I finally managed this past week to ditch the cigarettes, after who knows how many attempts, and the rest of it is to come. No more crap. Don't need any more junk in my trunk, if you know what I'm saying. Time to offload those pounds I found again that I'd once worked so bloody hard to get rid of. Bring it on 2017, I'm ready.


xo

drive away home.

I wasn't your typical sixteen year old [on so many levels]. To most at that age, obtaining a license to drive is a greatly anticipated rite of passage. I didn't care to drive, and I never thought I would. After thirteen years of refusing to operate a motor vehicle, I decided I'd give it a try.

Even after getting my license, moving thousands of kilometers from home, and buying a big-ass truck, I still wasn't quite ready to be in the driver's seat. Sally [the truck] was adopted by a friend, and though I was blessed enough to enjoy many great adventures with her, it was mostly from the passenger side, holding the map.

Perhaps it's because of all this, I have such a deep appreciation for driving today. Every time I jump behind the wheel, my senses synch with Delilah. I am one with the van. Long country roads are relaxing, winding mountain passes excite me, the highway sends me into warp speed to get the hell outta town.

It's been three months, and I've put four thousand kilometers on the dial. Ninety percent of which was traveling through the mountains, or down to the river to camp and fish. The places I've been and the things that I've seen wouldn't have happened without having wheels. And there's so much more to come.

The last time I came west it was by bus, on foot, and by sticking out my thumb. Even before that, I spent so many years unhoused, and now looking back at that time I think of how it would have been so much easier if I'd had a vehicle. The van is like my second home. Perhaps even my primary one.. with a foamie in the back, some bedding, all our fishing gear, a camp stove, firewood, and a tote full of food and water, it's a tiny home on wheels. A tent made of steel and glass.

My partner asks if I'm getting sick of driving him around yet. Honestly, I'm not. And I don't think I ever will be. Perhaps it's because I spent so many years on foot and relying on crappy transit systems that I don't mind a little traffic. Yes there's idiots on the road, but it's far easier to cope with from the comfort of my own seat in my own van, where I have control over the temperature and the volume of my music instead of being crammed like a sardine on a packed train lugging 40 pounds of gear around.

Bottom line, I love to drive. Who knew? Never saw that coming.

killing me sweetly

This isn't the first time in the past few weeks I've rolled over at 3a.m. writhing in pain, in fact it's probably been nearly every day for a while now. I'm killing myself here. The fact is, my body simply can't handle the stresses I've been subjecting it to, and once again, I'm feeling the consequences tenfold. I wrote a couple weeks ago about the changes I need to make in my lifestyle to get back to a better state of health, and the only one I've had somewhat of a success with was the quitting smoking. I've maybe had nearly a pack's worth of cigarettes in the past two weeks as opposed to a pack a day. But that ain't gonna save me..

I'll admit it, sugar is my weakness. Cola too. Most specifically, Coca-Cola. I swear they still put drugs in that sh*t.. I've got to get away from it. Before absolutely none of my pants fit..

...

Yesterday was one of those days of great awakening. I got up at the crack of dawn to drive a couple hundred kilometers and put my brand new chest waders to the test. It wasn't just the waders that were tested, my strength and endurance barely made the cut. How the hell could I let myself slip like this? I was doing so well before I moved out here. I just let myself go. Gained more than half the weight back, picked up all those horrible habits I had finally done away with, neglecting my health completely.

The hike nearly killed me. My goodness was the scenery ever gorgeous. Surrounded by mountains, wild waterways, fish swimming around my feet, eagles perched by the dozens in the dead standing trees.. It was enough to take my breath away. If my lack of physical fitness didn't get to that first. And if I keep going on like this, I fear that hike will be the last of it's kind for me.

I don't want that.

I gotta get back on track. Now time. No more excuses. Yes I'm broke, I'm always broke. I'll be far more broke if I can't get me arse out of bed to go make money. I want to come home from an epic adventure and write about how amazing it was to get out there, and not have to bitch about how it nearly killed me. I want to hook a fish and actually be able to reel the thing in on my own so I can take it home and eat it instead of getting all down about it and going out for sushi instead. I want the healthy me back. I know I only had it briefly, but it was enough for me to know how I want to live my life. With a lot less [preventable] suffering.

...

So yeah, the hike. My fella warned me that it wouldn't be easy, but I wanted to go anyways. Though there were a few moments I wanted to just call it quits [not an option, of course..] I kept on moving. I didn't turn back or wimp out, I pushed through. And I'm sure glad that I did. There's something so completely humbling about being at the mercy of the rising waters, feeling the pressure and weight of the river around my body as I waded deeper to cross. One slip and you're in there, one wrong step and you're gone. I could barely contain my excitement to see the fish stir up the mud around my feet.

The sky was layered with cloudy patches, the rain came in waves. Breaks between the rain were timed perfectly for breaks in our hike. We stopped on a sand bar for a bite to eat. We could hear nothing but the sound of the water rushing past, the eagles screeching all around us, and the rain drops hitting our hoods. As I munched my timbits I daydreamed about building a tree house on the side of the mountain, facing the river, having the huge dead old tree filled with eagles as the view from my front window. I could stay out there forever.

When we finally arrived at 'the spot', the water was almost a foot higher than when we had set out. The path was nowhere to be found, so we dropped our packs on shore close to a fallen tree and cast our lines. Not six casts in, I hooked a fat silver coho. Not expecting to have a fish on so soon, I didn't have the best hold on my rod. Before I could get into a better position to reel it in, the f*cker jumped and spit my hook. Damn it! After barely a minute of fighting the thing, my wrist was killing me. Even if I had been able to keep it on the line, there's no way I would have been able to land it. Where'd my strength go?!

I stood there wading in the ice cold water until my feet went numb. I didn't want to give up. The rain came on heavy, the river kept rising, and we had to call it a day. The hike back to the van was deadly. With the water as high as it was, some of the crossings we'd used on the way out were much higher than chest level. We had to find other points to cross most of the waterways, finding ourselves to be lucky we'd left when we did. Any longer out there and we would have been stranded, or swimming quite a way with all our gear. There were many beaches on the way out that were now more than a foot under water.

The rain persisted, as did we. I noticed a little caterpillar waving in the wind atop a single blade of grass, about to be overtaken by the rising water. I snatched him up, and carried him gently in my palm for the last kilometer of the hike. For whatever reason, having this fuzzy little guy at the mercy of my path made me tread more carefully, and I was focused less on how soaked and cold I was, and more on getting us both back to shore safe and sound. It reminded me to slow down a little, and take in my surroundings. Not to panic. Just breathe.

What seemed like forever later, we finally reached the bank by the road where Delilah was parked. I scrambled up the slope, fuzzy little caterpillar still in hand, and a giant smile on my face. I made it! Despite my shit state of health, I still mustered the spirit to endure the hike. I didn't collapse in defeat at the end as I figured I might. We peeled off our gear and sat in the van with the heat cranked as the worst of the storm blew in around us.

Never again I thought. Not that I never want to do that hike again, but I never want to find myself cursing my horrible lifestyle choices for not allowing me to enjoy the nature around me the way I'd like to. This has to end now. I must regain my health. I can not be defeated, I am not weak. The choice is mine and I'm making it. This is what I came here for.

Forever Forward.

xo

Sunday..

 

Sitting in the valley down by the river, surrounded by mountains and the smell of cedar in the air, I tend not to care about the fact that I'm out a job this coming week. There's money to be made all around if I seek it, but right now all that matters is that I'm here.

This is what I came here for. This is where I love to be no matter what's happening in the 'real world'. This is the real world for me. I have arrived, I am home.

We scrambled down the rocks to find a spot to perch. Looking out to the waters, the life veins of Mother Earth, we are humbled to ask, please give us food today. The salmon are rolling in the distance. The sky is blue for the first time in 28 days.

November is steadily approaching, winter is coming up fast. Red and golden leaves switched out for bare branches. Several more weeks of grey skies, and snow up in the mountains. It's been over two years since I moved west. And still, I am always on the move...

forever forward.

change- the only constant [part.2]

The air was crisp and cool last night, the sweet delicious smell of wood burning stoves warmed my heart. I love autumn. Sweater weather makes me smile.

It's kind of hard to believe just a few weeks ago I was praying for summer to be over, then seemingly overnight my wishes were granted. It took all summer to adjust to the days getting ever hotter, toting liters of water with me to work. The weight of the water was traded in for rain gear.

The weather isn't the only change I'm getting used to. Having my own vehicle is one of the biggest changes of my life. And finally, a winter coming where I don't have to worry about where I'll be sleeping at night. My fella and I were offered a room in his family's modular home until we get back on our feet. Having a warm bed instead of a couch or tent is a sweet treat.

It's been a good few years that I've essentially been living out of a storage locker. This week I finally pulled out my belongings to store inside the house. And to make use of.. my camera gear hasn't seen the light of day in quite some time.

...

Speaking of time, I've been trying to finish this blog post for a few weeks now. I just haven't had time to sit in front of a computer to write. If I'm not working, I'm commuting to/from work, or driving my arse out of the city to camp and [attempt to] catch some fish. Suppose I shouldn't complain, 6 weeks from now I'll have 6 weeks of very little work as the season winds down. Then I have to make some decisions as to what I'll do with myself..

Back in Ontario I never could have imagined myself being a landscaper. The seasons are too harsh, the heat far too unbearable in the summer, and the cold too bitter in winter to spend nights outdoors working the snow removal shift. It's been nearly a solid 14 months I've been pulling it off out here, minus the 3 month hiatus I took at layoff where I tried my hand once again in the retail scene.

I'm beginning to see that perhaps neither scene is fully for me. I love gardening, that's for sure, and I've been doing that for cash a couple days a week since i moved out here. i'd like to keep it up, but I'm exploring other options as well. I'm finally making a decent wage with the commercial landscaping, but the work plus the elements is doing a number on me physically.

...

It's noon on a Saturday, and here I am for the first time in a long time, sitting indoors in my track pants sipping tea and relaxing my bones and joints. I haven't been this full-body sore before without it being caused by some sort of flu. And I know I'm not sick so... something has to change.

A bunch of things really. I've been talking about it for a while, but nothing will change unless I do..

Not that I haven't done it before, change up the things I need to for the benefit of my health.. and I'm running out of excuses. My job has been a big one for me. An excuse not to take fantastic care of myself, and I can definaltely feel the effects. I still smoke, or again rather.. It's hard not to in that industry. It's a good excuse to kind of take a break [or at least do something less impactful for 5 minutes], it's a reward after a tough job done, it's a social moment. And dammit, for whatever reason, I just bloody well enjoy smoking.

And then my diet.. I need calories or carbs or salt on demand in quick to consume formats, and that rarely equals out to anything healthy. Especially since fresh things are hard to keep that way in an ever fluctuating climate. The work truck gets hot when it sits in the sun. And real soggy real quick in the rainy season when she's loaded up with us and our rain soaked gear. The job plus the commute takes up far too much of my day to take a moment to eat properly, or prepare better foods and pack them in such a way to keep them edible until I need them in a day. Plus I gotta carry that sh*t around haha.. I know, I know.. excuses, excuses.

Looking back, at least I made an attempt this year. I let circumstances get the better of me and gave up quick. Here I am again, calling myself out, this time I gotta make it stick. It's about hard work and dedication at first, but after a while healthy lifestyle becomes easier, routine, reflex, even enjoyable, if you let it be. It's always step one that's hardest.

Here we go again, thank goodness for the change of scenery. Next [and most critical] step, my health. Can't take many other steps without that one.


xo

StarShip Delilah

She's mine. She needs a little love, but for 400 bucks I really can't complain. Four hundred dollars for freedom. A few days pay to be able to get out there. I got us down to the river in the morning without depending on someone else to give a ride. What an amazing feeling.

I'm still a little rusty when it comes to driving, but I'm getting better. Just need more time on the road. My partner/driving instructor has been very patient thankfully. It's been more than a couple years since I've driven on city streets and even then, I had never owned a vehicle. I didn't decide to go for my license until my 29th birthday as I was always afraid to drive. Fast forward to today, and driving is all I wanna do.

I never said I was especially good at it, but I'm safe. I effing suck at backing in to parking spaces. My next step is to do my road test so I can drive on my own. For now she's our little adventure mobile, but come next year I'd also like her to be making me some money. Having my own vehicle means that I can carry my own tools, which means that I can pick up my own contracts for gardening. Slowly but surely, I'm getting a leg up out here on the coast.

Remember that song, "I'm in love with my car"? I know she isn't anything special, but I got the feels. I smile at her every time I open the door and see her parked outside. She's slowly coming together. We finally found a tail light harness to fix the blinker, wasn't exactly the right one, but with some creative cutting and a bit of silicone we made it work. We found the perfect sized stick to hold the back hatch open, and the driver side window rolls up and down, with a little help. 

Next spring I'd like to do something about the peeling paint. And the falling ceiling fabric. I was thinking some sanding and spray bombs would be kosher for the roof and the hood, and perhaps 'hippiefy' her a little on the inside by making some sort of patchwork fabric ensemble to fix the ceiling. That's the beauty of paying next to nothing for a vehicle for me, I'm not afraid to customize or attempt to fix it on my own.

*Sigh*. So incredibly stoked to have wheels. Going fishing, shopping, this past week I had to empty out my storage locker.. and I didn't have to call anyone for vehicular assistance. Amazing. This weekend we'll be taking her a little bit further.. Sunday we're going to church. Out to the mountains, to the river to fish. The adventure continues..

change- the only constant. [part.1]

I know I've said it a million times... be careful what you wish for, it might just happen. A couple posts ago I was complaining about how my commercial landscaping gig is killing me, and that I should be looking for something else to fill up my work week. That day I'd ended up taking off to go to the doctor as the heat was overwhelming, I was having a hard time recovering after each day out in the field. The following Monday it had finally cooled off. I had come to terms with my job situation and decided that I'd stick it out, considering there's only 6 weeks out of the year that the heat is unbearable. I'd just find ways to cope and carry on.

My boss and I were raking up at the end of the day, and we were talking about our health situations. She's been dealing with some issues for a long time and had told me back when I was first hired that she was going to grow the company and hire more labourers so that she could get out of the field in the next few years. A visit to her specialist threw a wrench in her plans. The state of her health is declining so rapidly that she was advised to stop working in the field ASAP as it's doing further damage. She can't stand the idea of sitting in an office, so she decided that this is it, this year will be the last season before she sells it off. So regardless of my decision to stick it out, I'll be finding other means of making money come the end of the year.

We discussed other ways to rack up some loot. She was considering getting back out on the road to chase forest fires and collect the mushrooms that come to follow. Or pinecone collecting, recycling, anything to make money on one's own time. She was throwing all these ideas at me and telling me that I should consider doing the same thing. Otherwise I'll end up like her, breaking myself to make a bit of cash. Living paycheck to paycheck simply isn't worth the damage that this line of work does to your body over time. I've got to figure it out.. there's two more months til the end of the season then I'm on my own. Again.

This is my 6th job in two years. I know I said I was retired and all when I left Ontario, but money needs to be made. I suppose I was simply retiring from the monotony of city living, from being employed by the same company for over a decade. Retiring from the idea that one needs a long standing steady career to get by in this life. I've already been living an unconventional lifestyle for years, so I may as well come up with some unconventional ways to make money. What to do, what to do.. I'm brainstorming ideas for this coming spring.

Some people find security in the idea of having a long term career to retire from, a pension, a mortgage or a lease.. I've never felt very secure in those kinds of situations. Every time I try to conform to that sort of lifestyle, I lose my shit. I feel far more comfortable and secure in the idea of being free to go with the flow. Change with the seasons, move on to wherever I need to be. It's not always easy to keep up to a pre-determined work schedule based on someone else's time when you don't know where you'll be crashing or camping out from one day to the next, or how the weather will be and what gear you'll need ahead of time. It's time to convert the money-making part of my life to match the living situation. Permanence in transience. The only constant is change.

two year Vaniversary

Two years. Honestly, I didn't foresee myself still being here by now.. I'm not one to stay anywhere long. It's definitely been anything but boring. When I arrived here off the greyhound bus, I didn't really have much of a plan. I stayed with a good friend from back home, wandered around the city, and took off to the island to visit for a while. At that point I had no idea what I was doing or where I'd end up.

A lot of people move here from the east. A lot. Not many end up staying though.. at least of those I've known. It can be difficult to make a life for yourself if you don't really know anyone, or have any sort of resources lined up before you arrive. I was very lucky to have a place to crash right away, and every step from there has been a challenge and a blessing.

The first job i picked up quickly, I was pretty much hired the day I applied. I worked in one of Canada's biggest grocery warehouses receiving enormous trailer loads of fresh food orders. Graveyard shift. It used to be my favourite hours to work, but my internal clock no longer agrees. I worked through fall and winter, lived in an international hostel all the while, until I had to get on a bus back east to deal with the bit of mess I left behind.

The bus i'd taken back nearly rolled off a mountain pass in a snowstorm, and you better believe my whole life up until that moment flashed before my eyes. I'd decided then that my westward journey was not about to be over. Go take care of everything I'd set out to, and return as soon as I could. The average temperature was minus 20 degrees celsius the whole time I was in Ontario. It reminded my quickly what I wasn't stoked on about the climate back home.

As I was on my way back west I received a text saying a room had opened up in the slanty shanty. I was pretty stoked. As soon as I arrived I parked my luggage in my new room and started seeking out another job. Within minutes of applying online I was hired as a merchandiser for a hardware store. I told them right away no Wednesdays for me, I've got some gardening to do.

I kept it up until I found other outdoor work. By the end of summer I was rocking two landscaping jobs [with some pretty sweet views] and enjoying the slanty shanty home base. There was plenty of front porch chillin and days of cribbage to be played. Autumn came quick and so did the rain. Halloween night, the heavy rain washed away what was left of the shingles over my bedroom. I had to leave [and find a way to dry all my things out] immediately. With few options, a line of credit and a friend in a similar situation, I threw down on a pickup truck. The road became our home.

Winter was adventure time. I got to know the lower mainland and the mountains and valleys beyond from the passenger seat. The backroads map book became my friend. We found mud and snow and mountains to ascend and plenty of places to camp. One spot in particular became our mountain base camp. After several consecutive weeks of returning we had built furniture, a tipi to keep the firewood dry, and cleaned up the surrounding area. Once spring came and my employment insurance ran out, I moved back to town with my tent to get back to working full time, and left the truck to my friend. He built up the camp further and took care of it so there was always that place to go back to. Definately one of my favourite spots, and one of the few places on this end of the country that I felt I could call 'home'.

Shortly thereafter I was taken in by an Angel, and was granted some floor space to use during the work week. I still make use of that space [and enjoy her company] a couple nights a week, couch hop, and log plenty of hours at my partner's family trailer home renovating for the rest. Needless to say, I keep busy.

Regardless of the scenery, I do believe there's no way I would have stuck it out if it wasn't for all the people I'd met along the way. There's so many to be thankful for.. The two lovely ladies that I work with half the week, my crazy and amazing friends from the streets, the fella I hit the road with [and his sweet, beautiful dog], my rad as f*ck partner in crime, all the homies that come and go, and of course my good friend and brother that convinced me to come back out here in the first place. Let's not forget all my friends and fams back home looking out for me, and encouraging me not to give up.. for all and all of you, I am blessed. I wouldn't be who I am, or where I am without you.

Two years down, many lessons learned, and many more to go I'm sure.
Thanks for reading. And thanks for the company.

summerary...

So, I've been mobile again since my return from the east. It happens. That said, I really haven't had a minute to sit down at a computer, thus I'm [finally] attempting to write from my phone. Seems to be working so far..

That week of flight took me right out of the grind for a much needed moment, even though it was to say a sad goodbye. I found a moment to say an awakening hello to my-self. I was forced to consider what it is I really want from this life, and what I'm willing to do to make it happen.

I've never had an easy time making decisions, mostly because I'm never exactly sure of what it is that I want. Finally, after almost 13 years bombing around this country aimlessly, I'm starting to figure myself out.

As far as calling someplace home, I've been trying to settle into that idea for years. At least I've got it narrowed down to my province of choice. I'd been procrastinating since I came out here about switching over my provincial identification, and I finally made the move a couple months ago. Had I not, I likely would have panicked at the time of my good friend's passing and rushed [regrettably] back to my hometown. As much as I do miss everyone, and wish I could be closer to home, I know I'd miss it out here too much, and spend my nights lying awake wondering what I could have done with myself if I'd just stuck it out.

Which brings me to my next big self-learning realization.. what to do for a living. I learned a few times over since I've been here that I'm long done with the big box warehouse and retail scene. Even in a garden center it just didn't work for me. I finished out the season last year doing mostly commercial landscaping, and though I wasn't fully keen on it at the time, I figured it's better than what I was doing. But I didn't get called back this year, so I had a little more time to think things through. I picked up more residential gardening work which is what I love doing, but it's only a couple days a week. I found another commercial landscaping company to fill the remaining three days, but the work plus the weather is killing me.

I'm glad I picked up more gardening in my down time. It gave me an opportunity to make it my priority, having other jobs working around my schedule instead of fighting to get them to work around mine. Slowly but surely, I'm taking control of my future career situation. Taking my time and learning along the way. Now if I could just figure out what to do for work the rest of my week that doesn't kill me, keeps me afloat financially, and doesn't take up every day of my time. I'm done working weekends, that's my time for me.

Enough about work. That's pretty much what I've been up to all summer. Funny I spent all winter out there venturing around, and vacation season busting ass. I need a balance. I'm going to sink if I don't figure it out soon. It's important that I get my health back in order. Reduce stress. Enjoy life. All the things. I'm thankful to have met someone this summer who keeps me in check. We enjoy the little bits of time we have together and work away the rest.

That's about all I got for now. I'm still here, making it through somehow. I have arrived, I am home.

time to fly.

 
eleven hours from now i'll be at the airport. i wasn't really expecting to be going home any time soon. the circumstances i'm still having a hard time believing. the loss of such an amazing friend, father, brother to so many.. and husband to an equally amazing, loving wife. the two of them are one of a kind. i guess it was his time to fly. so i'm flying home to say goodbye.


or see ya later..

i'm at a loss for words really. what can i say? there's not enough words, or the right ones.. he was a gentle hearted fella with a warrior spirit. his love for life and his kids and his wife was always apparent and abundant. more than just a give you the shirt off his back kinda guy, the help you move with his minivan in a heartbeat kinda man [even if he could barely move himself].. he truly was a brother and a good friend to many hearts.

i'm often reminded of a conversation we had a good many years ago. i was telling him about how frequent and crazy vivid my deja vu experiences are. and how on the odd occasion i'd know something already that i could have never known before that deja vu moment. i asked him what it meant. i knew he'd have the kind of answer i was looking for.


he: so basically, those moments are significant somehow. a sort of sign that you're on the right path.
me: even when shit's fucked up?
he: *chuckles* even when shit's fucked up. i hate to say the old cliche, 'everything happens for a reason' but..
me: everything happens in it's time.
he: exactly.


i had a really strange and fleeting deja vu moment while talking with a friend about the garden and when i realized it, i recited the above conversation. i found out about an hour later he was gone.

so many incredible people have been taken from us in the past short span. it's hard to try and find the reason, or believe it was their time. but we are bluntly reminded not to take our days for granted. to love and live like any one of 'em could be our last. celebrate the small things. don't sweat the big ones. smile. have cake for breakfast every once in a while. enjoy all the good stuff this crazy life is made of.

rest easy papa Clay. we're gonna miss you man. we already do.
lots of love.

xo

thank you to everyone who has extended a hand to get me home. thank you to all the kind folks who have sent funds to help support his family and take care of things in this time of incredible loss. your kindness is a blessing.

Wednesdays

i love Wednesdays. it's hard work. playing in the dirt. the sun. planting, pruning, snacking, laughing.. making some decent loot. it's using every muscle in my body. lift, bend, dig, climb, haul. it's epic views. the smell of the ocean twenty feet from the shore. the rain up on the side of the mountain. since i moved to BC, it's been my favourite day of the week.

it's been my only constant. everything else has changed several times over. i've had four other jobs, lived in several places [or no place at all], had many friends come [close] and go [far, far away], experienced varying levels of health and sickness, love and loss, been ballin' and broke [especially the latter].. Wednesday was the one thing i could count on no matter the circumstance.

i want more. more garden time. more working for someone local and independent who actually gives a shit, rather than being a number in a box. something more fulfilling. something i can be proud of when i leave for the day. more hard work that feels like play. more outside with better pay.

i'm on the hunt.

the grass doesn't care what you dress like. the weeds give zero shits if you're having a bad day. head down, music on, and work the hours away. the arborscapes absorb my anger. the sweat always hides my tears. and when i have something to smile about, the flowers melt away my fears.

i need this for my sanity.

that and.. if i don't make something happen real soon, me arse be back out on the street. i have some leads. just gotta keep my shit together to make it happen. it's hard to get out of bed sometimes. to leave the house.. now that i'm in one. it's hard to maintain a balance. to not become anxious when it's time to walk out the door. to be confident the world won't crush me. or my mind or my heart..

but it's Wednesday tomorrow. my favourite day of the week. rain or shine. the soil calls me.


xo

no stress

pshh yeah right. i'm trying. realllly really trying not to stress. it's literally what's eating me. i've been on my own more or less since high school and i've always been really conscious of my financial situation and staying employed, even when i travel. i'm now in the worst financial state i've ever been in, and i can't really work full-time right now.

i broke the bank, and i broke meself. i can stretch the rest of my income from the spring to get me through til the end of this month, which works perfectly as i need the time to heal. but i pretty much need to find work immediately in July to keep a roof over my head, my shit in storage, and my credit in good standing. oh yeah, and like.. eat and stuff. and i'm having a hard time getting it out of my head so i can just relax and do what i gotta do.

i'm not typically one to worry too hard about a place to live, don't usually have one for long when i get one, evade leases like the plague. for right now though, in order to ensure i have a proper chance at getting my health back in order, i need this. i know it isn't going to last forever and i have no idea how long til it ends but i have to stop over thinking. it is what it is right now. i have a kitchen and running water and electricity that i can make use of in all the ways i need to to getr done.

spent the morning spending what little i have left right now collecting some the tools. i busted out the hand crank juice press and made a delicious mix of veg and fruit juice. probably the most satisfying thing i've sipped in a couple years. i forgot how much i loved this shit. healthy and delicious is a thing! went and grabbed a cheap immersion blender for all the soups, a big ass bucket to grow some sunflowers in, and some mason jars to seal in the freshness. i'm just about set for a relaxing, cleansing month of gardening, patio farming, juicing and healing my wholeness.

yeah i said that.

ultimately i'd like to continue this trend moving forward. i'm kinda done busting ass long hours just to get by. i'd rather just work enough to keep my shit in order, for someone who actually cares, and then spend a lot more time working for myself, and taking care of myself so i can take care of my loved ones and get shit done.

i'd like to make more headway into the lifestyle i've been dancing around all my life. i'm transient, i don't need much, and i love to grow things. next mission: tiny home [on wheels], space to grow, and time to live it. it's really all i need, and all i've ever wanted. oh and someone rad to live it with. that's a thing.

just live. stress free.



i can do this. i gotta write it out to psych myself up, and share it to commit. thanks everyone who reads this shit and kicks my arse into gear. if it wasn't for you cheering me on and checking in i wouldn't be here. literally. imma sit here with my green medicine, and worry about nothing else but the veggie soup stock i got rockin on the stove. work can wait. money can wait. the world can wait. me first. sorry not sorry.


xo

repairing the vessel

ahhh that was a depressing visit to the doc. i'm in a little worse shape than i thought, but overall i'm confident i can fix this. to summarize, i need to give my system a boost and a really good cleaning before my innards decide to stop working completely. gotta cut out all the bullshit for at least a month to let myself recover. stress included.

lucky for me i kinda dropped out on that garden center job. i still have the gardening and hopefully enough incoming from the last couple weeks to float me until July. six days a week burnt me out in 3 months after being laid off [and stressing hard about it] for almost two months prior. i think the experience as a whole since last december threw me into survival mode for so long it wore me out completely. there's no way, right at this moment, i could go back to living out of a pickup truck and working labour jobs every day of the week, and busting ass in the woods that one day i have off. it'd kill me for sure. i need a minute.

sleep is key. i need to do more of it. the sketchy scheduling at the garden center threw me off. some days i'd start at 6am, others i wouldn't get off till ten at night. followed by a long hard day in the sun/rain/whatever landscaping. i need this time of working part time to recover my health so that i can ready myself to make some loot and enjoy what i've got. i'm no good to nobody if i'm dyin' or losing my mind. my full time job for the next 30 days is to get better. or get a damn good start on it at least. i know it's gonna take time, and a full out permanent change to keep me good for a while. i kinda want to stick around n see what happens so.. i'll do my best.

i have to stop worrying. anxiety is my enemy. i have to not worry for a minute that i won't find enough work to cover my ass when i'm ready. i have to not worry about the impermanence of my living situation and embrace the fact that i have what i have right now, and do what i can. i have stop worrying about things i can't change. i have a lot to be thankful for. and look forward to. and enjoy right now. there's no sense in this wrinkle in my forehead.


...

i dug out the old health n fitness blog. it needed to see the light of day again. i had to call myself out.... again. i did so back in december '14 when i realized i was slipping. and i did nothing to fix it. in fact i made it worse. go me. i rock at life. well i did once and i want to again so this be the mission.

got the hand crank juice press ready for the morning. can't locate the extra bits for my blender, and imma have to grab a few things hopefully cheap to get the ball rolling. i'll need a thermal lunch container of sorts to keep ma shiz cold and fresh, a case of mason jars, and a few jugs and bowls for prep. good thing i've done this a few times. sigh.



i choose to live.


xo

sorry. thanks, too..

i don't even know where to start.

to all you amazing people who have been putting up with my ass while i fell to bits the last couple years, giving zero shits.. i'm sorry. and thanks. you know what for, you know who you are. i fucked up huge, i let myself slip.. emotionally, mentally, physically, financially.. i've been in pretty rough shape. well up to me neck in what-the-fucks. i'm sorry for losing my head. i'm still working on getting it back. sorry to the friends and fams i kinda stopped talking to, i felt i had nothing good to say. sorry for pissing and moaning about the inevitable given my choices. thanks for listening. sorry i've been a real fucking tool the past little while. thanks for loving me anyways.

now about that getting back to the better me. or moving forward rather..
i have one hell of a long path to wander.
but i'm on my way.

i know letting go is a big part of this. letting go of people on several levels, places, things... all the things. oh and the feels too. it ain't easy. especially when those people hold big chunks of your heart. especially when those places are/were the worldly homes of those people. especially when those things belong(ed) to them. and fuck the feels. there's that one thing i have no idea how i should feel about.. the truck. miss Sally.

when i used that there trust for the first time in a while, mixed with a little credit (no, a lot).. things got messy. go team. on one hand i know it was stupid to register my vehicle in someone else's name. i had given it away right then and there. on the other hand even if i didn't, i wouldn't be able to take it back just the same. i do have a heart, obviously. this way i have no choice. i let it go. what else can i do? same as the friendship with the person driving her. and the credit that bought her.. an all around unfortunate set of losses. i fucked up. or did i? guess i'll never know.

i had a hard time with my mother's ashes. i know it's just ash but.. i liked having that physical representation of carrying her. as i did all my life. i wanted to take her to the sea shore below the mountains and set her to the wind this past mother's day. two years that weekend. i lost my shit when i couldn't get at her ashes. i lost my shit even harder when i got my things back and found they were gone. i was off in the head for a bit over that one.

and the slanty shanty too. i miss that house. it was the first place i called 'home' here on this transplanting to the west coast. i squatted there a few times before i finally got a room of my own. unfortunately the friend who lived in there previously had passed on shortly after giving me the place. and that was a hard pill to swallow. so was being forced to leave, when it finally became [beyond] uninhabitable. a couple seasons of camping out and the odd couch it took before i could accept the possibility of a place to call mine. here i am, still sort of adjusting.

speaking of which, thanks to the lovely lady who took me in. an angel, in the flesh. for real. she truly lives up to her name. by supposed random coincidence, she saved the day. and i am so incredibly grateful. i have a home base. still do a lot of camping, by choice instead of necessity. kinda nicer that way.

anyhoo.. i owe a pretty big apology to myself too. dah.. i worked sooo freakin hard to get my health back before i moved out west. it's been on a steady down hill slide since shortly after i got here. i became complacent, i got lazy. i stopped giving a shit, really. i'm pretty sure i found about thirty of the eighty pounds i lost, my kidneys ache constantly and my digestive system refuses to move in the right direction at times. it's time to pay better attention to what i'm putting in me, and take better care of myself. again.

somewhere along the line i stopped believing i was worth it. more like i'm just passing time instead of serving a purpose so i just kinda said fuck it. i felt not so worthy of good things, good feelings... not like me i know. i'm sorry to me for feeling that way. time to pull up me socks and get on with it. i still have a panic attack every now and then, slightly less symptomatic of the PTSD the past month or so, most likely due to far less environmental triggers. having a home base helps immensely, even if it's just a shared flat. i feel like i can finally start to get back on my feet. and i'm taking full advantage of what i've got. i will find my health again. i will get my sexy back. i will not only survive this shit, i will thrive. i will not give up.

i'm thankful for this second [or fifth or sixth] chance at making it out here. in a lot of ways i'm not doing all too well, but in the most important ways right now, i'm doing a lot better. shit gets rough but i'm still in love with life. it never ceases to trip me right the hell out, and bless me with the presence of some crazy rad people. hella sweet views too. and i am eternally blessed to finally find some balance... or rather have the balance find me. thank you. so much.



xo

careful wishes...

i can't even count how many times i've said it the past couple years...
careful what you wish for. it's like manifesting shit right outta the universe, so be careful how you word it, or of your intent.. something like that. anyways..

it was my birthday a couple few weeks ago. i received a generous giftcard in the mail to grab up some food and supplies for the weekend in the bush, and it was insisted that i grab a cake. candles a must too. birthday wishes, it's a thing.

so i did. the day was almost over, one hour til midnight before we finally sparked it up. i was procrastinating. what do i wish? what would i change?

i wished for a do-over. not completely, i never regret a thing, just.. some sort of fresh start knowing what i know. begin again from the beginning with the acquired wisdom of the past couple years out west.

suddenly, everything changed.

and i am truly blessed.

because we camp.

the first week in the truck was a little rough. we had to work out a routine pretty quick. with working nearly every day and several appointments we had to figure out how to organize the truck based on daily needs, and find places to park depending on how much time we had. a couple months in and we've pretty much nailed down a spot for every night of the week, our favorite being the weekend site up in the mountains. 

the area that we camp in is a long forested stretch along a popular fishing river. there's several spots to park and camp for the night, most usually inhabited by avid fishermen or rowdy teenagers. after spending our first weekend scouring the area, we found the perfect spot to call home. or so we thought.

it was pretty early in the season when we set up camp there the first time. it had appeared that the area was last used to burn garbage and shoot things, and that no one had been back for a long time. we decided to claim the spot and clean it up. it's far enough from the river that we wouldn't be in anyone's way intending to fish, and close enough to the road that we can back in at night. the view of the mountains is breathtaking, and the stars are plenty. 

the first few weeks we would leave for a while and return with our site untouched. we figured we had made a good selection seeing as no one else was using it, and made our base camp a little more permanent. we built a tipi for firewood to keep it dry, and a couple pieces of furniture. one weekend we had returned late at night in the rain to find that the pit was still hot, and all our firewood had been burned. it wasn't such a big deal except that we were kind of dependant on that stack to keep us warm for the evening, but the rest of our hard work was left untouched. 

the following weeks to come, we had slightly different welcomings. one weekend we had come up and the wood was gone including all the posts we had cut to build with, the furniture was smashed and there was garbage everywhere. lucky for them we never found out who it was. the kicker was a few weeks ago when we arrived to find our camp inhabited. 

fair enough, it's not really our land technically, so we pulled in just to see what was up. turned out to be one drunken asshole and his girlfriend. the place was trashed again, all our recollected shelter supports were cut and burned, along with several of the young living trees that had been recently planted. we intended to let them stay as long as they kept it clean and respected our camp and the forest.. turned out not to be the case. we told the guy we'd be back early the next day and would appreciate if he didn't burn any more of our work. he agreed that he'd leave as soon as they woke up.  

when we finally got back into our camp, it took the entire weekend to repair the damage and clean the place up. idiot managed to run over the fire pit (and one of our built stools) as he was leaving, so we had our work cut out for us. luckily my truck mate and I have a habit of making shit better. this time we left a note for the next people. it more or less asked whoever used the camp to respect the forest, not to litter, and kindly not to burn the shelter posts.

we figured it could go either way from there. people could show up and treat the area well, or people could come and tear it all down. we pondered on the drive up the following week on how it was gonna be. when we arrived, we discovered something completely unexpected. there was a sign. we could see it from the truck as we noticed the camp was left untouched. as we walked up to it we took guesses at what it might be regarding. possibly another 'no shooting' sign as the last one had gone missing. maybe some officials of some sort asking us to move along. we were wrong, in the right way.  

it was a sign welcoming visitors to the valley. "User Maintained Site". huh.. 'this area has been cleaned up by local volunteers'. and then advisories on keeping the place clean. our presence was wecolmed. later that sunday evening the fella who put up the sign paid us a visit. the local conservation authority dude himself. he was fully stoked on our presence and what we did to clean up and maintain the site. he said we keep out less desirable visitors that they often have to come and ask to leave or ticket. then we chatted an hour about local wildlife and the weather and the joy of being out in it.

that was one hell of a moment. 

home is where the truck is.

is it strange that i feel more at home in a pickup truck than I ever have in a house? is it so wrong that i'd rather camp out under the stars than be cooped up in an inner city hotel? nah. i don't think so.

that said, i'll be hella stoked once I finally do have a house, i'd rather build one myself though. on a flatbed trailer. i am a transient being after all. i find it hard to sit still. 

another month, and finally some sun. after several weeks of constant rain, feeling the heat is a relief on the bones and mind alike. the temperature will be in the high twenties [celsius] inland this weekend, and I can't wait to soak it up. 

working six days a week certainly contrasts how I spent most of the winter. spring brings life and lots of work to be done. hibernation time is long gone. I'm hoping the next few months will allow me to catch up financially so that next winter can be a restful time with a lot less anxiety. speaking of, I think the medication is working. 

...

it sometimes brings me to tears to remember how i ended up here. it's almost been two years since my mother passed. had she not, i'd still be tethered to the homelands in constant worry for her. i sometimes feel guilty for that sense of relief. i miss her like crazy and it kills me that i can't just pick up the phone and call her when shit gets weird, but i'm thankful that she's no longer suffering. i'm grateful to know she's at peace. i can still feel her with me at times, calling me out on my shit, making sure i'm always doing my best in whatever messed up situation i find myself in, and reminding me to love, unconditional.

...even if that love isn't well received. or understood. or believed. it's there and it's undying, and that's what matters. i have a hard time expressing myself. even when my heart is exploding with all the love in the world for someone, i can't always find the right way to make it known. in friendships, relationships, with family.. having suppressed my feelings for far too many years just to keep myself sane, I have forgotten how to get it out. but I'm trying. 

...

anyhoo.. yeah I forgot to hit publish last week. boy do I ever have a tale to tell. the adventure continues...

out there

as the sun set for the night, I did a walk around the campsite collecting twigs to add to the coals for light. one by one the stars appeared as the sky cleared up between the mountains. stoking the flames I hadn't noticed how dark it was until I walked back to the truck, awestruck by the beautiful night sky. the longer I stood there the more I could see... I swear I could make out the fuzzy shapes far away galaxies.

last night was the coldest, and yet the most enjoyable. I started training for my new job, but it's only a couple days a week for now until I'm in my position. that lends us a night or two a week to camp out a little further away from town. this spot was our favorite so far, just off a dead end road close to a provincial park. no traffic, no light pollution, no sounds but the river and the frogs.

it hasn't been incredibly easy, i'll be honest. though my ptsd is getting easier to deal with, there's still moments of great anxiety. overall, the situation has given my mind something to focus on minute by minute to keep me occupied. my truck mate on the other hand has quite a few challenges of his own. his mental strength helps to keep me together, but his physical pain makes it hard on him to be comfortable most of the time. we do our best for one another to make the most of a seemingly shitty situation. having Stella as our furry companion is a blessing for all. 

after the first week, we're starting to nail down a system. not having a set schedule yet, and all the appointments we have makes each day it's own challenge and adventure. every step of the day from breakfast to rest takes strategic planning, good timing and a little luck to bring it all together. sometimes it's a parking lot, sometimes we can make full camp, collect wood and water and wander around. 

...

I had my first hot shower today for a few, and i'm sitting on a couch as I write. we're borrowing some facilities for the next couple hours until we head out again for the night. I can't even explain in words how amazing that shower felt, or how comforting it was to put on my sweater fresh out of the dryer, or how much of a relief on my hips it is to be sitting on this big comfy chesterfield instead of a lawn chair or the cold steel box of the truck. it doesn't seem like much, but these little breaks are essential for morale. 

this post is scattered as my mind. I don't have much time left here, but I wanted to write down what I could while I have wifi and a minute to charge my phone. I'm hoping the rain will stop during daylight today to give me a chance to further organize and dry out the damp bedding. between condensation and a few minor leaks, staying dry is our biggest challenge. all the things in garbage bags and tarps.

that's about all I can squeeze out for now. and the dryer is cuing me to move along. the adventure continues...

truck life

it ain't all that bad. i bought a truck a few months back fully anticipating having no place to be, and i'm glad. as of today, the place i've been couch surfing is no longer an available option, so we're preparing [Sally] to be lived in. we already kinda do for how much time we spend on the road, it'll be a pretty easy transition. the camping gear is out of storage and tucked away in a tote under the canopy, with the tool box and emergency kit. my truck mate and I took the vacuum to her to get all the cedar needles and dog fur  [which i'm sure will accumulate again in no time] and organized the cab for maximum sleeping space. 

perfect timing too. i start my new garden centre job this week, apparently it's against my karma somehow to have a job and a roof over my head at the same time. i have to laugh.. at least i'll have a locker at work to keep a few things i need. 

finally got the blogger app to work on my phone too. no more excuses not to write i suppose. besides finding free wifi. it's around.

our Sunday drive, or church as i like to call it, turned into a two day boot into the Rockies. the journey served both as a spiritual and therapeutic retreat to prepare for the upcoming challenges of living in a truck, whilst maintaining an active role in society, and my mental health.. i wrote a bit about that in my last post [which i'd link if i could, but mobile app].

i do feel significantly less anxious, and sleeping a little better than before which will surely help me through. for whatever reason i tend to find a sense of comfort having fewer attachments at the moment. i know when the time comes to live in a more standard dwelling, i'll have a greater appreciation for it, as i usually do after spending several months floating around. March will be month five. 

it'll be interesting to see how this week goes. i don't anticipate the temperature dropping to freezing too many more times this season, even so, every last scrap of bedding is currently being laundered to line the nest. that's about all I've got to say for now.. time to hit the road.

disconnected.

 still failing at writing. still essentially 'home[less]', and mostly jobless too. this has been one of the most trying winters of my life. don't get me wrong, i've been far worse off as far as my living situation goes, but what's going on upstairs has been taking it's toll. i'm disconnected.


...

three days later, all i have written is that paragraph. few sentences rather.. it ain't easy putting things into words these days. i struggle on all levels to express myself. it's about fkin time i do something about it. and so here i am, talking about it. calling myself out. acknowledging the fact that this time around, i need a little help.

where do i even start.. at the start i suppose. i've always had a bit of a hard time as a being in this plane of existence, for lack of a better summation. i know i'm not alone on this. some are driven to perpetual states of mental or emotional instability, some choose to exit this plane, some become stronger people for it. i've mostly slotted in to the latter category. there's been some pretty dark days, years even.. but i always managed to bounce back better than before. on my own most times, luckily at some of the worst times supported by a few pretty rad friends.

given all the shit i've been through in my life, both situational and self inflicted, it's a bloody wonder sometimes how i've managed to survive this long with my sanity still mostly intact. i've always had systems in place, rituals, tools.. whatever you want to call them.. methods of dealing with various symptoms of PTSD. i built up said 'toolbox' piece by piece, teaching myself how to deal with bouts of anxiety, guilt, memory issues, nightmares, a bunch of other mental and emotional crap, and all the physical dis-ease that came along with it. somewhere along the line i must have left that toolbox open, tripped over it, and kicked it down the stairs.

it's happened a couple times. this time it's a struggle to find the energy to pick it all up again. i've been disconnected so long it's hard to think back to where this episode began. i have a pretty good idea. i know i've mentioned it before, how i never really gave myself a moment to mourn. it's been almost two years now since my mother followed through on her choice to leave this plane. i guess it never really came up. i buried that shit so deep i never thought it would reach the surface.

i'm pretty sure that's why i chose the path i did from that day on. i always felt responsible for her. i'd run to the ends of the country for a while, but i always returned back home. i left my toolbox in her corner closet for safe keeping. i kept myself alive even on those days i really didn't want to because i had to stay strong for her. my little brother too, but for her i was her rock. for so so long, i was the only one that would brave the wilds of her mindscape, that could bare her presence to give her the unconditional love she needed ever so much. for so long, with [and without] her, i was alone.

her following through on that decision was in part her way of saying 'you're free now'. that was always one of her things. she felt that she was keeping me there against my will. she had guilt. i know the feeling. the days and months following her passing i was numb. there was the initial shock, anger, distress regarding the situation, but i stifled it and locked it all away. which meant locking away all of my feelings, my ability to fully apply myself to friendships, relationships, share any part of my life with what family i do have.. and so here i am. a good few thousand kilometers away from everyone and everything i know. the couple friends i do have here i've managed to distance myself from and i wish i hadn't.time to gather those tools and rebuild.

i've always managed to recover regardless of my situation, one of the biggest recoveries i'd made was while backpacking across the country with no fixed address. things are a little different now, and as i've grown older i have realized that one of the most critical things i need in my corner is a home base. i've been floating for almost four months now in winter no less, and i'm positive this has had the most major impact on my lack of ability to gather myself. i need a place with lock and key, a bed in which to sleep, a kitchen to maintain my physical well-being, and access to running water when i need it, cause you know.. hygiene. it's a thing, especially when making a solid attempt at being a functioning member of society.

i spend a considerable amount of time and mental energy focusing on my next move of the day, and harbouring the will to do so. how am i going to feed myself, where will i sleep, am i doing everything i can to still be supportive to my loved ones, that sort of thing. at the end of the day it leaves me with not a whole hell of a lot of energy to focus on more personal matters, to be creative, to be myself. and if i can't be myself, i'm no good to anyone. i can't expand on my horizons or psych myself up to be open to new things if i don't have that established routine. there's no space for random awesomeness, and no time or mental power to think.

 ...

there was a brief time there back in october where i remembered who i was. i was my-self. dropped all the defences, allowed myself to feel something. i ran into someone who i'd never thought i would find in this crazy world that could see through all the shit there in that moment, and in that moment i had hope. i'm in there somewhere. the me that i like to be, that everyone loves to see.. the passionate, compassionate, outgoing crusader of love. the moment was brief. i miss that me.

this week i made a decision to seek medical help. i've tried for so long on my own to get by and get through each day without being medicated, besides a little help from my favourite plant. even that can't curb the anxiety the way it used to. given the family history and enough mental, emotional and physical trauma to sink a bloody battleship, i'm running short on options and hoping this one can provide me with some level of relief until i can rebuild on my own.

that's about all i have to say right now, and it took me forever to get it out. thank you so much to the ones out there who have been supportive and understanding, it really means the world to me and i probably wouldn't be around if it wasn't for you.. y'all know who you are. just know that i'm not giving up, i don't do that shit. i just need a minute.