Every Snowflake Melts

I never had any responsibilities as a kid. I wasn’t forced to eat vegetables or made to do chores or follow any rules. I didn’t play any sports or take any lessons in anything. No extracurricular activities. I just went to school and during my spare time I watched a lot of TV, played with toys alone or occasionally played outside with other kids. My mom used to clean my room for me. Up until age 12 or so, she picked out my clothes for me every morning so I didn’t have think about it. If I wanted something, then my parents (usually my dad) just bought it for me. They would get into fights because my dad just gave in to every demand for toys or junk food and my mom would attempt to instill some limits. My dad had no patience for my tantrums. One time I wanted a soft drink and my mom said no but my dad said yes and they got into this huge fight. I remember when we got home, still being in the car, the window open a crack and my mom saying, “Fine, you just take the kid then.” And then I lived with my dad and grandma for a few months. I didn’t see my mom at all during that time. I remember missing her.

“God is in the TV” – Marilyn Manson

I remember being around 5 or so and watching my grandma do the dishes and wanting to help her and she didn’t let me. I wanted to help cook too. I remember wanting to contribute and feel useful. I think that's a natural human urge, to feel like you matter and that you are competent. I think it helps with feeling of validity. I was just there. I was fed and looked after like a pet, but I wasn’t “raised” in any real sense. Eventually I just got used to watching other people do things but not being an active participant. I never acquired any skills or had any hobbies. I just watched TV or was off in my own world. I watched so much TV that it wasn’t until I was around 10 that I realized that TV was inspired by life and not the other way around. I thought the purpose of life was to mimic what happens on television. 

I didn’t like school. Besides being constantly picked on, any sort of responsibility or “work” became a negative thing in my mind. I’m not sure if this is an only-child related syndrome, but I came to believe that I was somehow special and that the world revolved around me. It didn’t help that my dad indulged my every want and need while also filling my head with delusions of winning the lottery. We would routinely drive through this super affluent neighborhood in Toronto (The Bridal Path) and talk about which house we would buy. When you’re 10 years old, you don’t know anything about the slim chances of actually winning. I also didn’t know that my dad was constantly on drugs and had a gambling problem. I thought we were special. I thought I was special. We were going to win. We talked about having a swimming pool in every room and what colours we’d paint the walls. I may have stopped believing in Santa Clause by age 7 and never believed in the Tooth Fairy, but I had my share of childhood delusions.

I never felt productive or useful as a child so I never developed a sense of self-efficacy. When I took child development courses while studying psychology, it really drove home the fact that I missed out on a lot of key components of what made up a healthy childhood. Self-efficacy was the biggest one. As far as childhoods go, I wasn't abused, I wasn't starved and I had a roof over my head. If anything, I was just very emotionally neglected. I had no discipline or structure. Among the four parenting styles, my parents were definitely the Lax/Permissive style.

“You are not special. You're not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We're all part of the same compost heap. We're are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.” -Fight Club

Day 1/365

December 31st, 2015

12/31, 10:40pm
So. I got really drunk. Did a couple lines of coke. Felt amazing. Then really wanted to die. Now I'm done and I just want to go home. I think I'm leaving soon. I hate everyone and everything.

12/31, 10:40pm
Wow. What a flip.

12/31, 10:41pm
Yeah.

I hate this fucking music. I'm so sick of this death metal garbage.

I already barfed a little in the bathroom earlier.

I just grabbed the rest of my sparkling wine and put it in my bag.

12/31, 10:42pm
Sounds like you overdid it too early.

12/31, 10:42pm
I kind of feel like leaving
I'm going to spend midnight on the fucking subway
It's fitting. My year was shit anyway

12/31, 10:43pm
Walk over to Nathan Phillips Square.
Get some fresh air.

12/31, 10:44pm
I suppose that's the plan. I guess I'll wait until we do that.
I just have no urge to be social.
I just feel like ringing in the new year alone. I hate everyone.
Garbage in, garbage out. That's literally the product of my parents.
Doing coke when you are depressed is literally the best/worst idea ever.

January 1st, 2016

1/1, 1:28am
I went to Nathan Phillips Square. It was okay. I don't know. I kind of feel like this whole NYE thing is a bunch of over-rated crap. I totally thought I had chemistry with Ryan's friend Allen. Nope.. I was just high. He had drugs. I knew he had drugs. I went up to him and asked him for drugs. We went into the bathroom and did drugs. Twice. Then we had good conversation.

I totally feel like I just relapsed into two years ago. I really felt like I had changed. I guess I haven't. Some people are just born shit and they die shit. I guess I just need to accept that and stop fighting it.

1/1, 10:27am
The walls are bending all over the place I'm so fucked up and dizzy. I feel like a splattered shit stain. I can't tell if I feel worse physically or emotionally. I don't even have the energy to cry.

1/1, 11:25am
Sounds like you need to go back to bed.

1/1, 11:26am
I'm still in bed

I can barely move.

1/1, 11:30am
I saw an article about a cat on Facebook that made me sad. Then I saw Scott's post about having to put his cat down this morning which made me even sadder. I'm so dehydrated though that tears are just oozing out of my face like syrup. But I'm starting to feel a little better.


1/1, 11:42am
It sucks. I really thought I would know better by now. But I guess I can't really count on myself to make good decisions when I'm already 2 sheets to the wind.


1/1, 12:01pm
Yep. You kinda set yourself up.


1/1, 12:16pm
Yeah I set myself up and I guess I've been in a bad headspace lately so I was extra vulnerable. I think the worst part was feeling like I actually had a connection with someone but realizing it was just drugs and booze. I've fallen into that trap in the past but I didn't think it could happen again. I thought I was smarter than that.

I just feel like I was so much healthier and better when I was in Vancouver. I was happier. Everything in my life kind of went downhill after/during the storm chasing trip. Having that to look forward to really gave me a sense of purpose. Since then it just feels like everything is on a slow decline.


1/1, 8:00pm
I spent most of the day recovering. I feel a little better now. But I've just been crying all day. Like every hour it just comes in waves. It feels like I just got dumped or something. Like something bad happened and I get these feelings of sadness, nostalgia and homesickness and grief.. But they aren't actually attached to an event. It's just the effects of a neurochemcial imbalance. Good times.

1/1, 8:06pm
A part of it is that.. But a part of it is just disappointment in myself. I really feel like I was done with that part of my life. It just makes me so upset because I worked so hard and I was proud of how far I've come and it feels like I'm just slipping back into my old habits. It was such a shitty way to end the year.

1/1, 8:13pm
Well clearly you have difficulty once you've already been drinking past a certain point. Perhaps you just need to put your foot down and limit yourself to no more than 2 drinks when you go out, no matter what. Getting drunk is your downfall. It would be better to quit entirely, but that would be very hard living with your dad, but it is possible. IF that's what you want.


1/1, 8:25pm
I know... This morning I was thinking maybe I should throw in the towel and go to some AA type of thing. But that would be so depressing. And I would have no support from my dad. He's always saying how people in support groups are stupid and weak and whatever. Also, they tie in religion which I'm not into.

I've just had too many of these "rock bottom" moments and I keep thinking, "this is the last time", but it never is. It's like an awful merry-go-round that I can't get off of. I just want a fucking normal life. A steady job and a boyfriend and a place to live. My friends had a low-key NYE with their boyfriends. I would way rather have a NYE like you did than go out and get wasted amongst the crowds of 20 year-old drunks. 

I'm tired of all this shit. 

I just want stability.


1/1, 9:34pm
So just for fun, I decided to look at my old LiveJournal from a decade ago when I was in Sydney for NYE. I remember that I didn't get drunk that night. I took a caffeine pill and just had a couple drinks and all the 20 year olds at the hostel took ecstasy and drank and I just didn't feel like getting that drunk. I remember "realizing" things and feeling mature and whatnot.. This is what I wrote.

" i realized.. that i think i've hit a turning point.. i think i've actually had my fill of partying.. i've had about 10 years of it... and now.. i think i'm done.. i think i just got everything out of my system.. i just needed an overload.. as soon as i go back home i just want to have my own place and keep it nice and clean.. i want to cook and learn how to drive... i just want to take conrtol of my life and just start being an adult.. "

Sound familiar? ....And the merry-go-round keeps going..

1/1, 9:36pm
Clearly the only thing that's changed in the last 10 years is my attention to punctuation and capitalization. I was very lazy with that LiveJournal because only about 3 people I knew actually read it.

1/1, 9:44pm
Okay so 10 years ago me, just fucking burned present me.

"its just funny because there are people even older than me who still like self-destructive partying like that.. like i'm sure there are people in their 30's still like that... hmm.. i guess thats why they are called losers.."

Ouch.

1/1, 10:04pm
Wow. That's gotta hit pretty hard. Time to start listening to your own advice perhaps.


1/1, 10:09pm
Yeah. I always kind of knew that I've been going in circles, but I didn't realize for how long. Now it's been 20 years. But even since high school I've always said that it's like I'm constantly chasing what I'm running away from.

Take It Somewhere

I feel like I've treated my life the same way I do when I have to get ready to go somewhere or finish something. I dick around until the last minute and then rush. Lately it feels like I have this giant clock above my head. Well, two clocks. One counting down to 35 and the other one counting down to 40. I feel panicked. It's like when I've left something to the last minute and now I have to really rush. I've procrastinated my entire life as a whole and now I only have about 5 years to really get my shit together.

At this point it's essentially 40 or bust. I have to cram 20 years of growth and maturity into 5 years so that I don't feel like I'm "behind" everyone else my age. If I'm still lost, broke, purposeless and single in 5 years then that’s pretty much it for me. My life will be half over by that point and I will have pressed the snooze button for too long and will have missed most of life’s key milestones. At 40, things like kids become a ‘now or never’ situation. Being entry-level at 40 means that I’ll be overlooked for younger people with faster minds, brighter smiles and tighter bodies. At 40 I won’t be able be to say, “Hey at least guys find me attractive” as a way to validate myself.

Things like not being able to plan meals or manage your finances are somewhat acceptable in your 20’s, funny but a little sad in your 30’s... but just tragic in your 40’s. At this point it’s literally do or die. If I don't end up committing suicide in my late 40's or early 50's then I will probably just die from poor health due to the physiological effects of depression (and alcoholism). Years of regret, self-loathing, and loneliness are not exactly good for you.

Since death is not optional, I might as well give the rest of my life a shot. We all end up in the same place and in the grand scheme of things, all of our lives are meaningless. In some ways life is just like a movie. You have to suspend your disbelief and buy into the bullshit to get any enjoyment out of it. We're just a bunch of horny, hairless primates struggling to find a way to put to use the excessive convolutions in our cerebral cortex. In the process, we've fucked over all the other species on the planet.. but anyway.. I digress. My point is, fuck it.. I'll bite. I'll participate in this whole life thing and try and make the most of what time I have left by contributing and becoming a productive member of society instead of avoiding everything that requires self-discipline, persistence, and commitment.

I suppose this is something that most people realize in adolescence. However, regardless of what I've done or not done in the past, all I can do at this point is move forward. I may have delayed getting ready for the party but I can still slap on some makeup and rush out the door.

I'm not behind in life. I'm just fashionably late.

The Trouble with Trouble

The trouble with distance and money and time.. The trouble with wind and shattered glass left behind

The trouble with smiles twisted through a broken lens.. The trouble with circular thoughts that won't end

Running off a cliff and not wanting to look down

The party is over
The house lights come on

Raindrops of reality burn..
Dissolving pleasure
The sun's rays sting as they pierce through the clouds

Feelings are wasted, but no real damage is done
The trouble with trouble... is that it starts out as fun

Nothing like a cold read on a hot day

I've always walked by that Utopia place on Lonsdale and saw the sign for a psychic reading and thought it would be funny to go in one of these days and get one..You know, just for shits and giggles. Well, I guess today was destined to be that day.

Shits there were not, but giggles.. Those hit me as soon as I walked in. I was bombarded by so much woo it was overwhelming. Crystals and incense and books with hilarious titles like "Medical Healing with your Mind -scientifically proven to work!". I had to walk around for about 5 minutes pretending to browse so that I can force a straight face and focus on maintaining my composure.

Once in the session, she quickly deciphered my personality by probably assessing my body language, tone of voice, and socio-economic status as well as using vague terminology like "smart", "witty", and "funny".

Apparently I "get" men (as in I relate to them) because in most of my past lives I was male. Ha! That's actually something I've always joked about.

She asked, "What signs are you usually attracted to?"

My first thought was, 'Wrong Way', 'Dead End', 'Danger'..

"My last two ex's were Cancers," I replied. She then told me that the problem with Cancers are that they are moody. "They weren't moody", I said, "At all."

Then of course she backtracked, "I think it makes a difference what year they are born." I'm sure it does.

I'm going to meet a Gemini who is slightly older than me and has a "good job" some time between "tomorrow and October". Awesome. Let me mark that one on my calendar.

I am also "good and bad with money". Makes perfect sense.

All in all she was a really nice lady and kind of funny. She is a smooth talker and good at what she does. I can see why it would be so easy to fall into the trap of believing this stuff. The human brain is wired to think magically; critical thinking does not come naturally and takes work. We've evolved to make connections between loosely associated facts and attach meaning where there is none. No matter how skeptical and logical I am, I found myself starting to read into her vague statements and had to pull myself out of the quicksand.

We unconsciously give away so much about ourselves in our body language that all someone has to do is "read" it and interpret it back to you and feed off of your validation.

She gave me her card in case I want to meet some of the people from my past lives.

I bet they are dead sexy.

I literally want to chase what I am running from

**This is something I drafted on December 10th, 2013 but never published it because I didn't think it was finished. I was going to lead into why I want to become a storm chaser and I'm quite sure I booked my storm chasing tour very soon after I wrote this. The title refers to something I've always said about my life; that it feels like I'm constantly chasing what I'm running from because I seem to be always going in circles and never getting anywhere**

Something happened when I went for a bike ride around the sea wall during that wind storm exactly 3 weeks ago on November 19th.

Besides catching a cold, I also caught another type of bug.

You see, I have a problem. According to my psychiatrist it's a "substance abuse" problem and I should probably be in rehab. I'm an addict, a junkie in the making. I love alcohol, I love cocaine (especially when mixed with alcohol) and I find myself craving it more these days.. even after hearing my father talk about how it ruined his life. I have dreams about it, and lately every time I get drunk I try and seek it out. I love anything that sends my dopamine and adrenaline through the roof.  Even innocuous things like food, Candy Crush, or just a good book will hijack my brain. If it's addictive, I like it. Somehow exercise is a harder one to pick up.. I guess it's kind of like smoking.. it takes effort at first. Listening to good music will also get those synapses firing.

I rounded a corner, past the Lionsgate bridge, and I felt the force of nature against my bike as I rode into the wind. At one point I had to get off and walk. Once I rounded another corner I saw people standing around taking pictures. The waves were washing up onto the seawall. They were huge and terrifying and beautiful. Something about their immensity and power made it almost sexual. I was so thrilled that I was almost shaking in fear and excitement. I recorded video and took some photos with my crappy iphone camera. I wished I had Zeus's GoPro strapped to my helmet.

Looking at the waves and standing so close to danger, it felt like I was staring death in the face; I guess also because I have a huge fear of the ocean. But like anything I'm afraid of, I'm also fascinated by it.

That feeling brought on by thinking you might die but then not dying made me realize that this was my cocaine.. my alcohol.. my Ritalin.

Flour Child

When you try and cut out wheat (and most other processed food) it feels like the whole world is against you. All of a sudden the images of bagels and donuts flashing across the flatscreen TVs at Tim Horton's suddenly become so sinister. Wheat is everywhere. It's in everything. 

On January 13th I decided to change the way I ate and swore off all wheat and processed food. I still drank alcohol.. but I tried to minimize it to organic wine. I still drank Gray Goose, which I know has wheat in it so I haven't been totally perfect. After a few days of brutal withdrawal symptoms -headaches, mind fog, irritability, confusion, and obsessive sandwich fantasies- I was doing well. My appetite had gone down, my cravings vanished, I wasn't coughing in the middle of the night, the psoriasis on my scalp that I've had since I was 11 started going away, I had more energy and felt more alert. My ADHD symptoms were almost non-existent. Even the hyperactivity I usually get from alcohol went away. The mechanism behind that puzzles me though. I guess if my ADHD is exasperated by wheat and then even more so by alcohol, then maybe the wheat is behind my ADHD? It would be interesting if in the future it was determined that ADHD was in fact a side effect of a wheat allergy. ADHD is genetic, but then I think so are wheat allergies. So who knows. Anyways, I digress.

I was doing well until I got my new job. We were having an IT Open House my first week there and I managed to resist the Dad's cookies on the table. However, on February 13th, exactly a month after I started this adventure, my coworker invites me to come with her down to the new First Nations center on campus to have some cake to celebrate the center's opening. My intention was just to torture myself and watch others around me eat cake, living vicariously through them. Then I thought, "Some icing should be fine". People think caving into a craving is an impulsive act... it isn't. You plan it. I usually find myself already thinking about excuses to give in. You imagine yourself doing it even before you tell yourself you've decided that you are going to give in to the craving. It's true junkie behavior. Though I also read somewhere that by the time you consciously make any decision, you've already made it before you are even aware of it. 

I grab a piece of cake, scrape off the icing and push the cake part aside. I take a bite of the icing, laced with some chocolate cake crumbs, and I get this distinct feeling of falling. For a moment I felt like I was being strapped down or trapped. Like I had gotten on a ride.. which I had of course. I had bought the ticket and got on the roller coaster. Waves of hyperactivity resonated through me as copious amounts of glucose flooded my bloodstream. By the time I got back upstairs I felt like taking a nap. I was ok though.. I felt fine and everything was under control.

Two hours later I'm at Richmond center for an appointment. I arrive early because I wanted to hang out at the Pet Habitat and play with the kittens for 20 minutes. I was looking forward to that burst of dopamine and oxytocin so much.. perhaps I was ovulating.. (fuck I really am like Mayim Bialik's character, Amy Farrah Fowler from Big Bang Theory, though thankfully I'm way more attractive). Anyways, I arrive only to find that the Pet Habitat is closed down and gone.. the big glass window dark, empty, and kittenless. 

I'm filled with a rush of despair and an intense craving for sugar. I walk to Purdy's and thankfully they have my favorite flavor, raspberry cheesecake. I hesitate for a moment... cone or cup? Wheat or not? I'm already caving to processed food... should I cave to wheat too? No. I compromise with myself and order it in a cup. The cashier puts it in a cone and proceeds to hand it to me, "sorry, I said in a cup" (don't know why the hell I'm apologizing, god I'm so Canadian), "just dump it in the cup, it's fine". Just more microscopic pieces of wheat to sneak into my body. My hands are shaking as I hand her the money; it's like when you really have to go to the bathroom on your way home and just as you put the key into the door the urgency increases tenfold because your body knows it's so close to relief. I needed that ice cream so bad. I sat down on the nearest bench and devoured it like a hungry stray cat devours a saucer of milk. Calmness and serenity. All is now right with the world. The next day I ate a Dad's chocolate chip oatmeal cookie on the last day of the open house. I ate it as slow as possible.. it was like a beautiful two minute vacation. I'm quite sure my eyes glazed over as I let the crumbs slowly dissolve in my mouth. 

Since then I've slowly started eating more refined sugar. The slippery slope got even oilier when I started eating gluten-free cookies -the wheataholic's methadone. My first bite of a gluten-free chocolate chip cookie felt like a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a crawl space for a month. It was delicious.. and I wanted more. My work has this tradition where when someone new starts they have to buy the team donuts or some kind of treat. My manager, knowing that I don't eat wheat, suggests that I bring in some gluten-free cookies. I buy two boxes and only one made it to the office. Because of the higher sugar content of gluten-free products, they are even more addictive. I've realized that my wheat addiction was compounded by my sugar addiction. 

On February 22nd I had some ice-cream cake at work. It's weird because about 10 minutes after I finished it I felt a bit dizzy and was very mildly hallucinating. I felt mentally foggy.. like when I was looking at someone I wasn't really looking at them. My focus of attention just dispersed and scattered across the room and I felt lethargic. This feeling eventually passed. 

On the 25th some cupcakes snuck their way into my body. A couple hours later I felt more lethargy and brain fog.. I also felt like my chest was tightening up and to take a proper breath required conscious effort. 

Sugar was the gateway drug that allowed wheat back into my life. This one guy's desk at work is covered with cookies and Halloween candy that's free for anyone to help themselves. "IT departments run on sugar" he says. Sadly there is some truth in that, especially for me since I am not super passionate about IT; I don't mind it but it doesn't really excite me. At the end of the day it's still just a job and little bursts of glucose help pass the time. I've been indulging in chocolates and ice-cream and candy for the last 3 weeks now. 

Today, after eating the most wheat I have ever ingested since January 12th, I felt like I was on drugs at work. I felt like I was in a bubble or like I was under water. My thoughts were like molasses. Just before my shift ended I got really flustered trying to help this guy with the photocopier. He wanted to photocopy his drivers license so that both sides ended up on one page. I knew how to do this... but when I looked at the touch-screen on the copier I just couldn't focus or think. Like I mentioned to someone earlier, it was like trying to do algebra on acid. I just felt brain damaged. The thing is, I used to feel like this quite often; I used to call them "bad ADHD days." Since I started this job I haven't had to take any stimulant medication. I haven't had to take it in a long time...except today when I got home from work. At one point during this ordeal I tried to call the service desk and talk to someone who could help me but it kept going to voicemail -now I know how users feel. When I went back to the copier, I wasn't even sure which guy it was that I was helping.. I forgot what he looked like or just never even took note of it when he first started talking to me. Eventually we found a workaround and I apologized and said I was new and had only been there for two weeks. He said "it's ok, I'll forgive you this time." At least he took it well. 

If being skinny isn't enough motivation, being able to focus and function and do well at my job should be. But like this CBC article says, the grocery store is like a battleground. Processed food is designed to be addictive. Real food is rewarding but it doesn't elicit euphoria. We eat to live; we shouldn't live to eat. Everything is about making a quick buck. At the end of the day no one gives a shit about your wellbeing... it's all about making money. The processed food industry is one giant scam.

As I sit here scratching my itchy, burning scalp.. I realize that I didn't fail. This is isn't a diet. This is a journey that will have its ups and downs and the wagon will always stop for me so that I can get back on, no matter how many times I fall off.