The Long Roads….

There are so many of them in life it seems…  Roads that never really seem to end…  Roads that feel like they’re uphill all the way…  Roads that feel lonely, that seem to isolate you, that feel like they’re full of potholes and dangers….

Roads that test you for all that you’re worth.

I’m currently travelling one of those roads right now…  And man, this road has been one son of a bitch to walk.

Many night and days it has left me crying lately…  bawling…  because I just don’t know what to do anymore.

What road am I on?

The job hunt.

The hunt has been on for a while now.  But it really got cranked into high gear about three or four weeks ago.  Since that time I have littered this city with resumes, I have gone on countless (actually that’s a fucking lie, I’ve counted every one) interviews…  and its all boiled down to the same thing:
“Great resume but…”

Sometimes I can feel that but hanging over my head, as well as the reason behind the but…
“Oh wow, you used to be in the military.”

Other times you can only guess at the but, but the but is still there…  the elephant in the room.

Yes…  I used to be in the military.  You know what, yeah, I was…  That means I have great work ethic; I will work myself to the bone for you because that’s what I know how to do; I will also follow your instructions instead of trying to find my own way through crap and reinvent the wheel…

And I’ll be so eternally grateful for the chance to prove myself to you that you’ll never have to worry about me slacking off or not giving 110 percent every day.

But you’re right…  But I have a military background.

Some friends have suggested altering my resume; removing that…  But that feels like it flies in the face of everything that I’m trying to teach my daughter…  Everything I’m trying to teach her about being proud and being who you are.

But maybe that’s the only way to get beyond where I am now and into something more stable…  something that will provide us a stable income.

But then I remember…  I remember taking her little hand on Remembrance Day…  taking her down to the Cenotaph…  carefully explaining to her about Remembrance Day.   I remember the look on her face as she remembered my one dear brother and his sing-song voice:
Everything he said sounded like he was singing mommy.
Yeah dude… it did.  He had a great voice.
I remember the look on her face as we put poppies on the picture of us and then placed it at the Cenotaph.  I remember the care with which she placed that picture and those poppies, the care that she took with other poppies she found on the ground…

And then I remember the older gentleman that walked up to ensure the wreaths were all in their place and everything was in order.  He stopped for a moment, went back to his car, got her a bracelet.  He put it on her little arm and stroked her cheek…  I don’t know his story but I’m sure he has one to be so touched by one little girl placing poppies.

And then I think about denying part of my story; erasing it from my resume…

Because sometimes you have to do what you have to do to get ahead.2014-11-11 15.47.17 2014-11-11 21.41.05


Pensions, Paperwork, And Paying Your Dues….

There was a story posted on the CBC site a while back.  It gets posted about every eight to twelve months.  It’s always the same story, it’s just usually worded differently or focuses on a different major issue within the larger issue.

Every time the story hits, it hits hard and fast for two or three days.  During that time, there is public outrage, there are people screaming for change.

And then the story dies.  The outrage stops.  The screaming for change stops.

But the pain and suffering doesn’t.

Here’s the story:

When people hear these stories, they’re shocked:
How can the government be doing this to our soldiers?  How can this be allowed to happen?  They protect our country, they should get anything and everything that they need.

Then the blame starts:
It’s Harper’s fault.  It’s _____ fault.  It’s_____ fault.

And then the thoughts start:
What can we do to stop this?  What can we do to help?  What can we do to make this right?

And then the story passes and the silence starts.  And people forget.  And nothing gets done.

What I’d like to ask of you right now, right at THIS SECOND.  Think.  Think about your family.  Is there a pension in your family unit?  Something that will take you to retirement? Are there benefits to cover things like medications?  Do you feel secure in talking to your doctors, your boss, your ANYBODY about what is going on with you good times and bad?

Okay, now picture this:  You are the main breadwinner, the one with the pension that makes you feel secure about your later years.  You have the benefits that cover your health needs.

You feel like you’ve got life by the balls.

You fracture your leg.  Surgery is needed.  Time to recover is needed.  You’re finding all of this out through a haze of medications to help with the pain.  All you can think about is: ‘Man, things are gonna be a bit different until I’m back on my feet and back to work’.

You assume you have the luxury of that time to get well and heal.

And then your boss walks into your room.  Your boss sees that you are in pain and heavily medicated.  Your boss sees that you need time to heal.

But he does the unthinkable.

He hands you two sets of documents and says sign one set.

He give the quick explanation of what those documents mean.  Basically they boil down to go back to work right now without time to recover, or lose your job and take all of the time you need.

Imagine that decision.

Imagine then that you’re told:
‘Don’t worry, everything you’ve worked so hard for will be protected if you decide to quit you job and take your time.  Your money will be safe, your benefits.  We’ll help you.’

Well shit, this doesn’t sound so bad.  So you sign.

Only to find out later that all of that was a lie.  Nothing was safe.  Your money, gone.  Your benefits, gone.  And your life has been turned upside down.

That’s a small portion of what our Members here in Canada have faced.  And I know for a fact it occurs in the US as well.  We are not the only country doing this.

And this is not the first time this has happened.  After every major conflict, THIS HAPPENS.

So you can’t blame Harper.  You can’t blame the Conservatives.  You can’t blame the Liberals.  You can’t blame Obama.  You can’t blame Bush….

This has been going on for a long time.  After EVERY MAJOR CONFLICT.

You have to be wondering a few things; I’m sure top on that list is:
“Why don’t they speak out?  Hold a protest?  Fight for what’s theirs.”

Okay, well, the hard facts are, we do.  We fight every day.  Every day.  But we have to do it carefully because I’ll be quite honest with you, all it takes is a few careless strokes of a pen by a Psychiatrist or a Physician to have you put in for psychiatric evaluation.  Once that happens, you lose everything AGAIN.  You are revictimized AGAIN.  Everything is at stake if you make one wrong move.


So we try to handle things quietly.  We try to follow the rules to the best of our ability.  We try to choose what is best for us in those rules; ignoring some, heeding others.  But we try to fight for what’s ours.

All the time we’re fighting we’re being handed prescriptions for medications that don’t make sense or, that if we decide to take them, can completely alter our lives.  Or we’re being handed paperwork.  Or lies.  Or bullshit.

So now, on some level, you have to be wondering:
‘What can I do?’

Help.  Stand up.  Keep up that screaming and yelling for change that goes on when the headline first hits the paper.  Fuck. Cut the article out and hang it on your bathroom mirror so that you can be angry every morning and every night.  Call your MPs and your MPPs.  Touch base with the Legions, the local Veteran’s Associations.  Find out how you can help.  If everyone starts helping, the Members will no longer be handling this burden alone.

Alone is a horrible way to handle any burden; especially when you’re scared.  Especially when you feel like you’re trapped in a maze with no possible escape.

Especially when you’ve just had horrible things said to you by the organization that is supposed to be there to HELP you.

“Sir, this seems like an excessive list of medications.  I’m sorry, I can’t justify taking any of these.”
“You’re addicted to one drug already, what’s it matter?”
“I have a life to live.  I have a daughter to raise.  I have things to lose.  That’s what it matters.”
“Yeah well, if you won’t take the pills I’m telling you you need to take, we can’t help you with anything that you are asking.  Our regulations state–”

*Two people stand up and face off over the desk*

“With all due respect sir, you’re a fucking asshole.  I just came to ask for help with my dental bills for the damage that your pills are causing to my teeth.  I deserve that.”
“You my dear are a loose cannon and need a lot more medication and help than you are willing to admit.  Until you see that and start taking your medications, we can’t help you.”

I’m sure he was calling me some pretty vicious names after I stormed out of his office.

Patterns And Routines….

LIfe is full of patterns….  Patterns and routines…  

Some of them are great.

Others you’d like to run from as fast as you can.

I’m noticing a lot of patterns and routines in my life the last little while that really, I’m not very content with.  

It’s time for change.

Or time for a break…  Time to recharge the batteries.

I’d love to just pack Wee up in the car and just go for a few days… A week…  And just not give a damn…  Just…  Not…  Care.

It would be so nice…  

Just to put everything into the Fuckit Bucket and regroup….  Recharge…  Start fresh.

Break some of those routines that have become almost painful….  

Find the reason for the patterns that I don’t like and change those things so that the patterns stop happening…. 

And perhaps help quiet the demons that have been strolling quite a lot lately.

I will make this happen..  

I have to make this happen….

Because change needs to happen.