Prologue

Back on February 8, 2006 when I came out with the secret that I had been a chronic hemorrhoid sufferer from the ripe old age of 19 I never imagined it would turn into an epic saga filling my life with enough material that I could write a book on What to Expect When You’re Expecting Rhoids. Nor did I realize how much support I would receive, granted my archives for 2006 are a disaster and ALL of the comments from the whole year are gone, but at the time when I realized just how many people were suffering with ass issues of their own, or for whatever reason wanted to be kept posted on my ass, I decided I would blog the entire adventure including the surgery.

I welcome you to read the posts I’m linking to in this Prologue, I will only include the main highlights here to either welcome you to the saga or refresh your memories. I particularly love the guest post that Adam did I think he captured my fear quite well.

My first bowel movement took over an hour. I chugged glass after glass of water to take my mind off the fact it was happening fresh out of bed at 7 something in the morning with absolutely no pain killers in the system. Everyone knows that I Corinna Liscumb have a mild tendency to exaggerate but this is different and I would never do that in regards to something like this, Adam sat on a stool [haha I said stool] the whole time and basically held my hand. Although I would give anything to see my facial expressions there was no fucking way I was busting out the camera even for something as memorable as that was. In case anyone is DYING to know my second pooh was much shorter but just as painful and involved yelling and the word ‘fuck’ at times.

Even years later I often think how when I woke up all the nurses were talking about my tattoos instead of say mentioning that not only was there a lot of gauze on the outside of the area BUT that there was a piece of gauze UP inside my anus that was about the size of my thumb. I was actually told about that there piece of gauze in my comments by one of my loyal readers [isn't enough to call Sarah a loyal reader, she's a friend as well, we've both been there for each other through some heavy shit over the years, she's the bomb].

Sarah knew an ass surgeon, I can’t remember exactly what she told me but it included and was not limited to a part about how *most people* when crapping out that piece of gauze pass out cold. Not like I didn’t already know it, but that confirmed to me that I’m one tough bitch.

___________________________________________________

Although I still mention my ass surgery on here I’ve never felt the need to give an update.

Until now.

Even though everything looked fine on my initial follow up visit two weeks after, by six months I knew I had a problem.  Around this time I phoned the surgeon’s office back and explained that something wasn’t right, I was told that it could take up to a year to properly heal but to call back and come in if I had any pressing concerns. On the year anniversary, nothing had changed. By this time we’d done some research and discovered that having the hemorrhoidectomy did not mean that I would never get the rhoids again. OK FUCK WHAT? It explained a lot but I was livid, I should have been told that when making the decision to have this invasive and painful surgery in the consultation. My rhoids had not actually returned but I had noticed a piece of skin wasn’t tucking up inside like the rest were and it was easily irritated by say a thong.

I made an announcement on Twitter that I was returning to work. The day Adam walked in and said he had been laid off, I was on the phone to my girlfriend before he stepped out of his boots; she has gotten me all of my previous work in film, my schedule was shifted around a bit but I did get hours. Last Monday was my first day. Sometime during that 16.5 hours it felt like my ass had popped out a rhoid. I wasn’t surprised, I assumed this day was coming and I was working on location outside for that entire day, it almost made sense with my luck that this would be the time that they would return.

On Monday night when I got in the shower with what can only be described as despair I pushed that piece of swollen skin as far up my asshole as I could. I didn’t even have any Vaseline to help soothe the area, I recently hucked our container because it was from 2005. And sure maybe expiry dates aren’t completely accurate but I thought that 2005 warranted being thrown out. I returned to work on Tuesday and worked all 16 hours of it in a lot of pain but being the only female PA who was I going to tell? It was day TWO I was scheduled in till the following Monday. I OF COURSE didn’t want to let my girlfriend OR my husband down. But I had no choice I woke up Wednesday morning with the added thrill of a plugged nose and my cough had returned. I texted my on location contact/boss and my girlfriend/boss, but I only mentioned the onset of the cold out of no where. As I mentioned to her later I didn’t feel comfortable talking about rhoids over text message at whatever hour it was in the morning. THANKFULLY I was not fired, but I was taken off the rest of schedule for that episode. I thought for sure I was toast but I must have horseshoes in that dysfunctional ass of mine too.

I wasn’t able to see my family doctor until Saturday morning which was half my fault because my brain was set on I DON’T WANT TO HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS – LA LA LA my ass doesn’t hurt so bad I can hardly sit.

I gave the doctor a quick rundown on the surgery, and my hospitalization at 19 (with a very serious case of thrombosed hemorrhoids) which began my ten year hot streak of internal and external rhoids before they were removed. I explained to him that I knew something had gone wrong with the leftover skin and prepared myself for the worst.

“What you have there is actually a yeast infection about this big [forefinger touching thumb around] causing the swelling, itching, redness”. Everything led this veteran rhoids suffer to believe they had them again. He did also confirm that the piece of skin was not a good thing and could cause me further problems down the road but that this was different. I was like “WHAT, I totally wash my ass man”, not to mention I have NEVER heard of an asshole yeast infection. He explained to me it has nothing to do with that, only not to wash my genitals with soap, I told him I hadn’t for years, I use hypoallergenic Vagisil wash. I know I have sensitive genitals, Vagisil wash is my friend. Taking this in was interesting because I don’t know the exact number of vaginal yeast infections I’ve had in my life, honestly WHO keeps track of that. It’s under five, and I’m almost 33.

This new development with my ass is both good news and bad. Good news no rhoids. Bad news FEELS like I have rhoids and right now I can’t work, I need a couple days, this stuff is supposed to work fast, which begged me to ask Adam the question(s) of “when a doctor tells you something like an ass cream works fast do you ever wonder why, like does he use it, has his wife used it, is he suffering from a yeast infected ass right now?” I guess now I’ll just keep my asshole yeast infection cream in my work bag and if it starts to act up again, take that, I have ASS CREAM.

Since Adam got laid off, we’ve both been a little down and have basically been sitting on our asses playing video games. Which doesn’t mean we aren’t looking for work, Adam has to deal through his Union and trust me, he’s been calling. We’ve had some good visitors though, had some more last night, SIL Smut and her fiancée came over to give us some gifts that SIL Saz sent us for Christmas but they were sent to SIL Smut and didn’t arrive on time and so we just got em. Plus because they are both great they made us dinner straight out of a cook book from Pouce Coupe, it was almost like we were UP north.

Because I’ve been talking about them more frequently, I will introduce them to you. SIL Saz is my older SIL though not older than me, Adam is the eldest of the three of them and I’m the oldest of all six of us if you count our spouses which to me is pretty funny because in my family I’m the youngest, youngest cousin, grandchild, only grandchild on the one side BUT my dad has six sisters and one brother so being the youngest is super cool. Back to SILS. SIL Saz you may recognize from my comments, she reads the Greeper. SIL Smut is the younger of the two and has gone through various name changes, first I started to call her SIL Deux. Deux meaning two in French, and then when I got back from Bali I changed it to SIL Dua. Dua meaning two in Indonesian. Even though I know that I meant no insult with the word Dua who the hell wants to be second and technically she was third born anyway which means if I were going to keep it accurate she’d be SIL Tiga. But before Christmas SIL Smut and fiancée came over for a Wii night, Christmas spirits type visit and I didn’t even realize until they left that she had called her Mii for the Wii Smut. I enquired, she gained even MORE has the best kid stories of the three of them points . She got another one the other day, SIL Saz left a comment which begged a story. If I told you stories they’d both kill me, but from the one story I was able to FINALLY solidify a name for Tiga born SIL Smut.

Before we had dinner last night we opened gifts. All we knew was that SIL Saz was excited. This could not ever be a bad thing. I received the best belt buckle on the face of the earth and this belt buckle here is pretty bloody hard to beat. Now I am basically The Scorpion Queen. Adam received a Pan Flute that he is already playing super sweet sounds on that are not in anyway annoying. Not annoying AT ALL. And she gave us a poo calendar a Monthly Doos the 2010 dog poop calendar. It will likely go in the bathroom. WHAT? a poo calendar? Yes, picture an Anne Geddes photo but instead of babies on the leaves there is dog shit. Brilliant.

Some of the time it isn’t like we want to sit on our asses, we’ve been trying to get for photo walks for days and the weather is refusing to cooperate. I do not have a problem going for rainy walks they are rather enjoyable but when you are trying to take photos rain and photo walks don’t mix and I keep forgetting to wear contacts and my glasses get covered in water spots. Even the night walk we’ve been trying to go on has been a no go. We managed to get out one day and I took a couple shots before it started to rain they are nothing special, I like the beehive picture I got and I really like the public art displays all over the city put on by Vancouver Biennale. The red man is one of many sitting in a big circle. When I first saw them I instantly thought of Bali because almost everyone there squats like these statues do.

This one is an older one I took of another display very close to us.

We want to go for walks so bad to catch some of the insane last minute preparation for the Olympics, the energy in this city is crazy simply crazy. I did walk by the art gallery where the Olympic count down clock is and as I walked past and saw the work they were doing on it ALL I could think of was a HUGE flowered moo moo that I wouldn’t even let my mother wear for her 100th birthday. I’m really hoping we get a chance to do a rain free day walk and night walk within the next two weeks here.

While looking for the above photo I realized that I have NOT shown you all a photo of Dr. Vegas in his BRAND SPANKIN’ knew WRESTLING SUIT [from Christmas] made for him by beyond awesome friends, what a seriously killer gift.

I changed my mind and instead of doing more favourite photos in this Bali 2009 post I thought that I would take you around the Villa and although we went out sight seeing a lot home is where the heart is and cool stuff happened there.

My parents have had this sign for ages it existed when my name was still my maiden name Liscumb. I am pretty sure I even asked my dad the exact story from the sign while I was in Bali but I was on vacation brain and I have no idea. It has been repainted since it was on the green fence that held my dad’s old horse in Prince George. The weather there did a number on it. I never lived in Prince George so we must have had it in Terrace too.

This is the view from the back of the house from the top storey patio.  That mountain there that you can barely see was very hard to capture.  I made many a mental note to get a photo when it was more visible and I forgot and never did. Things like that made the place feel more real because I was able to say to myself fuck it, you can get it on the next trip.

That patio is also where the Monday massages took place. Just had to call up the woman and let her know that there would be three of us. I got there on a Monday night so I missed that day’s massage but still got two in while there. Decent massage, little different from anything I’d experienced before, I’ve had full body massages but never had it include a full butt massage as in those hands slipped into my crack on way more than one occasion.

This is the front of the house from the steps leading from the beach to this wee gate. Before I had seen the house in person I had a really hard time guessing and even picturing how my parents told me it was set up, for some reason I had only seen photos from this angle.

Facing this way on the left is the office and a bathroom and the outside sitting area, on the right is the kitchen and the kitchen eating area.  You do most of your living there outdoors.  My dad asked me after I’d been there for a decent bit how I liked living outside. I remember saying I honestly hadn’t really noticed but loved it, probably from camping so much from such a young age and spending so much time outside as a kid it just seemed natural for me to slip right into.

I noticed while pulling the above photo for the post that a cup of MY kopi is in this photo, I had mentioned in my last Bali post – Part Tiga that none existed which I have discovered was an unintentional lie.

Selamat pagi – which means good morning, as I’m about to swig from my water bottle. I’m wearing what I slept in here so I know that it’s still morning.

I read a decent amount while I was gone, I never ever read as many books on vacation as I think I will BUT I would still bring the same amount of books plus my eBook because no matter where I am I want a variety of books to choose from which is partly what makes having an eBook so awesome, although I don’t use it much I know I will because I will eventually have to face that not cutting down on weight for trips to Bali just to be able to have a copy of a book is pretty silly. But right now I don’t feel like that.

While gone I finished Rant - Chuck Palahniuk, started and read Still Alice - Lisa Genova, Blindness – Jose Saramago, When You Are Engulfed in Flames - David Sedaris and started The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood.  I enjoyed them all, although Still Alice has me convinced that I have early onset Alzheimer’s, for real, not being an asshole. And it was sort of interesting being around a bunch of rabid anjings and kucings [dogs and cats] having just finished Palahniuk’s, Rant.

One night I went to walk into the kitchen to get a drink of water or a bir IN THE DARK and a gecko fell off something from my opening the door and hit me in the face. I screamed like a pussy of course, it scurried off my forehead and I watched it run along well away from me. That was my only negative encounter with any lizards, although they are there and they are big, not tiny wee friendly looking things like the geckos, fucking lizards and I HATE lizards. I only saw one decent size so lets say medium lizard, thank fucking gawd.

Early evening here barbecue is being used for dinner, I can see the cover is off. Super bloody awesome cool thing about this time of day is the changeover between the birds swooping all over and catching bugs to the bats coming out and fucking annihilating the bugs. People ask me about the bugs, and there were a lot of flies, spiders, red ants, moths and mosquitoes but I was there during the windy season and so therefore the bugs for the most part kept off me.  I did have a few choice bites though, couple huge ones on my ass. I have never understood what it is with bugs and biting ass, but I always seem to get the biggest bites there.  And as mentioned right at the moment when evening meets night, you don’t even notice the changeover they look almost exactly the same as the birds, but the bats come out for the hunt and really they are your best friend if you want to sit outside as I am likely doing here it is fascinating watching them, trying to catch the birds accepting that their shift is finished as the bats suddenly emerge.  This is also why I FLIPPED when I opened the kitchen door as I wasn’t immediately sure if a bat was swooping by me or if it was a gecko.

So, I’m not the best sleeper in the world, unless it is a bed fat chance that I will fall asleep in it around it on it, planes can suck it I hate them I almost NEVER get any sleep.  This day however, it was my third day there I think, I can’t have been there long because I am reading Rant I fell asleep not once but TWICE. UNHEARD OF. My dad caught me sleeping on camera so I can remind myself that I was able to get myself into a relaxed enough place for that to have happened. Adam gave me grief over falling asleep in the sun to which I quickly informed him that not only had I waited the PROPER amount of time before entering the sun after applying my sun screen, I also had a my stop watch next to my head to go off AND my parents also woke me because I told them how long I was doing my front for. SO THERE.

Basically Dr. Vegas stole my tanning googles and I’m stuck in sun glasses. Not cool little buddy, those will give me tan lines. I wore my contacts every day I was there because it was so bright that my glasses were useless. We have to make Dr. Fever some swim trunks and matching ones for Vegas because Fever is still wearing his country western cowboy hat from his days back in northern British Columbia.

CRAB IN THE POOL!

They hung out together a lot, they are brothers and both doctors – they have a lot to talk about. My mom commented on how much more worn Dr. V is than Dr. F and I was all dude, Vegas gets around, he travels, he goes to concerts, parties, weddings, he hangs with the ladies and he is with the band I don’t know what band but there’s a BAND and he’s WITH IT.

The gazebo is another awesome place to sit and read.

And watch the sun set from.

This photo falls under my favourite photos, I am photographing the lights from the fishing boats. Mine didn’t turn out, I suck in that lighting. The fishing boats are tiny seriously tiny outriggers. I will cover those in another post.

This is the only photo I took inside up stairs, that is primarily what my dad wears every day, retirement is so seriously hard as you can TELL. The windows in the far right there open to the front patio where you can watch the sunrise in the morning and watch the fishing boats come in.

These are our diggs when we go visit, my bathroom had no mirror while I was there but I didn’t mind, I can go a while and not need a mirror, for serious. If the trip hadn’t have been a surprise my dad would have put a mirror in for me but he couldn’t do little things like that, everything had to be HUSH HUSH HUSH don’t do ANYTHING to that bedroom because my mom is snoopy, really aren’t all moms though?

One morning near the end of the trip I was sitting cross legged on the bed text messaging Adam and I had JUST pressed send when my bed started to tremble and shake or more like slide back and forth, took me about as long as it did during the earth quake in Vancouver for it to dawn on me that it was in fact an earth quake. I yelled up stairs “don’t you feel that?”, it rumbled a bit more and stopped. It hit Kuta about 100 kilometers from us. Wasn’t one of the ones that caused major damage around that time in September but still, that only means the people in Kuta were lucky that day.

As I mentioned windy season, my dad has a shirt on so it was one of the cooler days, again with the kopi mug I see it, the afternoon cup o’ kopi I am now an unintentional two time liar. Oh right this is the ONE day it stormed, if you look out the doors you can see the seats from the sitting area pressed together and against the wall, the storm wasn’t long but it was EPIC. And if you look really closely you can see some water on the tile.  I wasn’t really sure about the tile when I got there because generally I do not like being barefoot anywhere and I was worried they’d be slippery. Best tiles ever, who needs shoes, that is all I have to say about those tiles and that it was a delight for the first time really in my life to be shoeless everywhere around the house.

Almost every afternoon anytime after fifteen hundred hours cocks come into my parents yard and help my dad with his gardens, they clean out the bugs, it is a sight to see. I don’t know why they go by cock there instead of rooster but they do and you can talk about cocks all day long. COCK COCK COCK. They are not like farm cocks or any cocks I’m used to, for example I DO NOT remember them being so vociferous in the Cook Islands where I did not stay at a resort, they were all over our house I have loads of film photos of them. The cocks in Bali NEVER SHUT UP.  They must really like the chicks and warring over territory.  I call this cock the cock dwarfer.

That concludes Part Empat. Catch up on the Bali 2009 series here: Part Satu, Part Dua and Part Tiga.

He told me not to be afraid of what I have to put on the page. I’ve needed to think, to be almost alone with my thoughts to make a true and permanent plant in the ground with my foot, depending on myself to make this time, the time.

After I found out that my mother was and did return to Bali I completely cut off communication with both of my parents and for the first time ever they left me alone and there was zero contact but instead of it making me feel better like I thought it would it just made me feel lonely and I realized my life didn’t work well without them in it and my depression hit another intense low.

It has been an extremely interesting couple of months.  I was as angry as I ever remember myself being very self destructive very medicated at the edge of the cliff rocking back and forth on my heels but when I finally fell I found myself free.  There have been a lot of times over the years when I thought I’ve been over it, thought I was ready to move on from the past and really leave it there, write about it but not in any angry way or from any sort of blaming perspectives just to tell a story how I remember it. With all the things I have said about my parents on this blog over the years I’ve never painted myself as the perfect daughter. I’d say I was hardly hard to handle but still having a kid is having a kid and I was no angel.

I really had to look at my unhealthy attachments with the two of them realize and really accept that what’s done is done and sure I think I deserve more than we just remember things differently but after years of trying I’ve finally put that behind me and gotten to the point of forgiveness and have fully entered the real process of mourning the loss of the ideal parents to the point of seeing things that came before me like my father’s relationship with his parents, and my mother’s with hers, where she lived in a very interesting dynamic as a child.  As well I have to accept that there is also the process of my parents having to mourn the loss of not having the ideal child. Regardless of the job they did I know they didn’t imagine a thirty-one year old pot head unemployed housewife who doesn’t even cook with no savings and large arm tattoos as the ideal kid. But right now that’s me.

I’m ready for this journey, my father and I will butt heads there is no question but just because we get upset with each other doesn’t mean I have to flip out and stop talking to them, those days are over, the lines of communication are fully open, the three of us and now four of us have been through the wringer a few times but life is too short not to come out the other side and say fuck you to the wringer.

On Monday I got an email from my mom but I didn’t read it, I read it Tuesday mid-morning and it basically said that she is going back to Bali. Back to my dad, apparently it is harder than she thought it would be to leave and forty years is a long time.

I get that, but I don’t get it.  I guess I’m just supposed to be happy that my parents aren’t getting a divorce. But I’m still ambivalent except it hurts now deep in my gut whereas before I didn’t know how I felt all I could muster was hyper to mask whatever my head thought was coming, or maybe I subconsciously knew all a long.

I feel so many things right now; I know after doing this that I am capable of great things, turns out I made ONE mistake in the three weeks of planning of the entire mission and it was very minor.

I’m just now, today starting to get upset and deal with it, I’ve started to cry once or twice but quickly stopped, I’m not ready. They are going to get counseling but I’ve heard that one before too.

She has said thank you as much as she can with words for getting her out of Bali and I am thankful as all get out that I asked Foreign Affairs to get her to sign a sheet of paper witnessed by someone from the Australian Embassy stating that she was leaving of her own accord because I know he’ll claim that getting her out of there was all my fault as well. I think that is why I’m getting upset, the stuff he said to me was so evil I passed out, as I’ve mentioned, and I still worked 24/7 I’ve never done something so selfless and I did it for someone who up until maybe a month ago would have never done anything like this for us, not in a million years.

I won’t be able to get her out again when it happens again and it will, it isn’t like I’m best friends with the dude at Foreign Affairs and can just call him up and over beers say oh by the way my mom is stuck in Bali again. He’s in Ottawa but seriously I did it for nothing all those people worked their asses off for me for nothing.

And the worst is this puts a wedge back between us, how can it not, and I will not be forced into a relationship with either of them, as a unit or separately I’m not putting myself through this again I am almost thirty two years old they had nineteen years to build a relationship with me and they didn’t so retire and have fun in Bali and LEAVE ME OUT OF YOUR SHIT.

Sometimes I have a million and fourteen thoughts running through my head but I still feel like I have writers block. That is me right now except it is a million and forty four thoughts. I don’t feel like I could write a post on ONE THING and stick to that ONE THING. Where would I start?

• Since finding out that my parents are getting divorced I have danced around in a bodysuit, dressed seriously bad, busted my mom out of Bali on a mostly covert mission starring stealth moves only, been given the best ever ‘no skanks allowed’, the long edition NOT the ‘clam slam’ robe from the airport in Denpasar Bali, ASIA to be exact. It is so huge I have been pretending I am a boxer whilst wearing it, #parentsdivorce scary YouTube video coming soon set to Eye of the Tiger, Survivor OR S&G The Boxer. I’m not SAD yet. I am mostly hyper.  It is easier to picture them apart than I thought it would be. Or it might be that my dad is sitting pretty in Bali probably ordering in Balinese whores and my mother is stuck in freezing cold Toronto with her mother. Who knows? AND I cut my hair AND I have been eating A LOT of peanut butter cookies. OH and I have been smoking joints like they are cigarettes. Note to self = must for serious stop that last part. BUT almost everyone I have told that to has said I WOULD BE TOO, so it makes it harder to stop.

• I read The Reader, Bernhard Schlink in some ridiculously fast amount of time that made me feel like a fast reader for the duration of the book, my eyes flew across the prose so beautiful that when I compare it to other novels I have loved before I am reminded of The Road, Cormac McCarthy and how it not only remains one of my favourite books but it left me wanting more, and I love a book that I can praise for many a reason, but it leaving me wanting more is probably up there with my favourite things about stories and their inescapable endings.  I am looking forward to writing more Books vs Movie posts.

• Although in all reality the computer being as broken as it is SUCKS the ONLY good thing is that the Media Player is also broken so it isn’t counting how many times I have listened to the new Neko Case album Middle Cyclone. I am seriously thinking over one hundred times by now because I don’t just know the words I know the correct words to the songs. See, I have Scrobbling enabled on Last.fm most of the time and I already have a gross disparity between Neko Case number of listens = 4,618 and Tool coming in a distant second = 1,020 and I’ve been listening to Tool since 1996, kinda freaky in a freaky way that the Neko count is actually low but that brings me to my review, which I can write very quickly for you right here in two words: FUCKING AWESOME. Waiting with a “glacier’s patience” for it paid off.  We have tickets for the June show already but I messed up and bought the tickets in American dollars and I haven’t told Adam, hey babe, sorry bout that, see you on the couch. But we would rather give the money to things set up by her people anyway.

• I was randomly thinking how I like being able to look at a photo of myself that you can see my arms in and know what year it was taken in from the tattoos. I also haven’t been able to stop thinking about getting a new tattoo; I mean this is a HUGE life change. #parentsdivorce

• I wasn’t going to mention this but I will because not only do I enjoy laughing at myself sometimes annoying my own self can have the same affect. So like, more than two point five years ago when I joined Twitter I had it running through my Facebook as my status updates right like that is nothing new people do it, but I stopped because I go through phases like NOW (give me a break please my parents are GETTING A  D.I.V.O.R.C.E, Tammy Wynette style, #parentsdivorce) where I talk a lot and didn’t want to annoy people, but now that Facebook is trying to become Twitter, I do now again have my status updates running through there because that is what they want right? They want Twitter; I’ll give em Twitter alright. Currently listening to Neko Case.

• All I will say right now is that it is really ODD to be almost 32 years old [LESS than three months away] and have parents married more than 39 years going their separate ways #parentsdivorce. We have all gone to our corners, I haven’t heard from my mom since she left for YYZ and I haven’t heard from my dad in a few weeks now.  I’m still set on marinate, information overload, over stimulation, snap dragon mode.

• Adam’s photos for what was on Twitter referred to as #mission #PRJ until he was on the way back and I let it be known that #PRJ meant #pacificrimjob can be found on his flickr. It is basically Bali from a Taxi with cool shots of kitties.

Adam gets home from Indonesia tonight; he went to get my mom last Saturday. Almost three weeks a go now my mother became too afraid of my father to even deal with him anymore and so she was stuck in the hospital in Denpasar.  She told her sister and me that she just wanted to come home. She had 24 hour security outside of her hospital room and no way out of the hospital unless a doctor said she could leave and she had to be released into family care.

It all got really messy with my father sending me emails so mean I passed out cold, placing 100% of the blame for their separation on me, to being forwarded everything he was also writing behind my back to him then trying to suck back up to me and kiss my ass for information on what my mom was doing.  He is really sick too and not handling the separation well at all but I haven’t had any time to really think about either of them from the end of a 39 year marriage perspective at all yet.

For weeks I worked with foreign affairs in Ottawa and representatives from the Australian Consulate who handle the Canadians in Indonesia they helped me get everything prepared so that she could leave and it was 24/7 work and it was not easy and I proved a lot of things to myself that I always knew were possible but to have certain things about myself validated by family members who aren’t my parents and things I always wanted to hear but never heard has been extremely bittersweet in a situation such as this.

Right now I am very angry and I’m extremely overwhelmed, by selflessly helping one person I seriously hurt another and am pretty worried about him.

All of my beliefs about marriage, everything is shattered, all of my ridiculous idealistic views, some of which I’ve lived by; nothing feels right, right now. The adrenaline that fueled me through the process that was getting my mother out of Bali is gone now and I just hurt and feel anxiety.

This is all new to me, so I don’t know how I’ll be going through it; I just know I can’t run away from it because it will be at my door step within a couple of hours. Honestly I think getting her out is just the eye of the shit storm.  That is partly why I am exiting the equation after she leaves tomorrow, my father can blame me all he wants sure it hurts, are you kidding me it kills, but I did what was asked of me, I got my mother out of Indonesia because my father was being an asshole about letting her leave but this is it I have to go my own way and deal with this just like they do, but in my own place, space and time and not as part of a triangle.

I really, really want to thank my friends, online and off who have been supportive through this and for believing in me, it has meant so much.  I don’t know how to even begin to thank the people from foreign affairs and the embassies, they didn’t just do their jobs here, they did them extremely well and for that I will be forever grateful.