Cutting, Scars and Growing Up.

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The first time I cut I think I was twelve or whatever age you are when you’re in the sixth grade. I’m not even sure where I got the idea from, but probably the media or internet. It’s one of those things you sorta just hear about, and you don’t think anything of it except wondering why people would purposely run a blade across their skin.

Between the sixth grade and last October as I encountered pain during certain moments of my life I would use cutting as an outlet. To feel something different. Sometimes it would be about feeling something different, sometimes it would be done after something I did that I believed I needed to be punished for. It was both something I chose to do to help me and to harm me. A vicious cycle of feeling and trying not to feel. I’ve been through a lot. The entire contents of this blog through its different stages displays that. Cutting however has been the only thing that I feel physically marks me as a “broken” or struggling human being.

Last October was the worst period of my life thus far and my upper right thigh has the scars to prove it. The scars prior to October are not noticeable to anyone else other than me, or never got bad enough that I had a physical scar from it. October however led me to scars that I will now have for the rest of my life. They are not something I will ever be proud of , they are not something that I will know how to explain to my children and they are not something I want particularly being noticed. However as lovely as my friends are, seeing but not saying anything I know that there are questions and thoughts that come from seeing a happy upbeat beautiful girl with scars covering a part of her body.

That said I feel the need to explain from my perspective that my scars do not define me. They don’t hinder me. In fact just by looking at them you can see that they are faded and healed and just a mark of incredibly deep pain I did not have the mental capacity to handle in a healthy way at that time. I believe moving out west was a hugely healthy decision. That I could focus on other things, I could develop hobbies and friends with perspectives from every part of the globe. I am the same upbeat happy beautiful girl that you can see on my face and when your eyes wander to my thigh where my shorts have ridden up just enough to see that there are scars that person does not change. Except maybe that there’s more to me then which new beer I’m trying or which new piece of snowboard gear I’m trying to pick out.

I don’t regret being a sensitive person. I am very aware that I feel my emotions incredibly deeply and I sense others deeply too. I love that some of my television shows make me cry and I love that my face lights up with incredible joy when something really great or even just kinda great happens. However learning to deal with the deep sadder harder emotions was and is a journey for me. Feeling them deeper meant not knowing how to handle them at times which did lead to hurting quite a few people who love/loved me. That I am also sorry for.

When you see a persons scars, read the scenario , know your relationship with that person and react accordingly. I’ve been embarrassed by people pointing them out in public and I’ve been asked by the 3 year old I nanny what they are. I’m an open person. I’m okay if you ask me about them, if you ask me about pretty much anything I’ll give you my honest answer or tell you to wait for a better time.

I currently live a pretty stress free life, even the things that are stressing me out are laughable in comparison to things outside the Whistler cultural context. (I.E my 2014/15 snowboard is nothing I can seriously stress about). I haven’t been tempted to cut in a loooonngg time. I honestly feel that I am only growing and journeying further into my ability to handle all the stuff I feel so much more than other people. I think that’s just one of the things in life that I get to grow in and learn from. That I am not embarrassed about,

I am one out of millions of people in the world that have self – mutilated and harmed. I am okay with being a person to talk to about it and I’m okay with being a survivor of such an incredibly dangerous habit. I remind myself constantly that I’m still here and right now everything is okay. There will come a time when almost nothing is okay and hopefully ill know how to handle it better because I’ve grown and journeyed through such hard things.

I’ve learned it get’s better. It truly does.

The Abstinence Diet and My “Bad” Reputation

You know when people gain a lot of weight after accomplishing a really crazy fad diet? That sort of happened to me but the diet was abstinence and the weight was male partners. I keep a running list of the guys I’ve been intimate with because I don’t want to forget there names, I am sure there is a deeply emotional reason for this but I’m a writer so I write down everything.

I’ve always been real with my readers, and honestly my list has gotten on the lengthier side. I’d like to state that the number of men I’ve had sex with doesn’t bother me personally in the slightest. I don’t think I believe in societies concepts of virginity, and women being deemed sluts and whore’s because they enjoy sex and have it part of there lives. However lately I’ve had really important people to me question my lifestyle and choices. They say this out of love , I completely believe that, but how do I continue to enjoy my life without feeling questioned by loved ones.

Yes I would love love love to be intimate with one guy , consistently and build a relationship with that person. If you know me at all you know that I’ve always craved intimacy and friendship within a monogamous relationship. However that is just not the case right now. Sometimes I go out to the bar and meet a beautiful man. Sometimes I’m just having hormones rage inside of me and call up a friend. This is the life of MANY 21 year olds. I am not special.

Society also likes to attach sexual abuse, low self esteem and a problematic childhood with the promiscuity of seemly only the female gender. I don’t think they are completely wrong but I also don’t think that I am a slut because someone decided to take advantage of innocence. I believe childhood shapes us and the way we think but I also believe I have the freedom to make choices despite what I grew up seeing on television and experiencing on the playground.

My self esteem has been on the rise for quite a while now and I do believe I deserve a person who is going to respect me, love me and do life with me for a relationship. However me having sex with whoever and whenever I want does not reflect that persons choice to have sex with me but my choice to have sex with them. They are not disrespecting me by having sex with me. We are simply just two people .. having sex.

The whole of society puts sex on this big billboard and makes it out to be this huge deeply important thing. I don’t really think that way anymore despite a terrible breakup and years of shame I associated with sex. In fact I think I thought about sex in such an unhealthy way because from birth as a female I was taught that men should work for me and if they don’t then that in fact affects how I should feel about my self.

The number of men I’ve had sex with says nothing about me, except maybe that I really enjoy having it.. which is not a bad thing. I get that these thoughts against society won’t really make much of a difference, except I will live my life in peace with the choices I am making and hopefully you will come to peace with the choices you make for your own life.

This is what I believe and this is how I live my life and I refuse to apologize for it.

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When you have a nephew you’ve never met and a guy once poo’d in your bed.{Stories of my Life out West}

Seriously. It actually happened… poo in my bed but we will get to that.

I’m not living “abroad” but i am living away from my family, 3000 km away. My sister had another baby recently and i don’t know when I’ll get to meet him.I struggle every day with the fact that I’m not there seeing the both of them learn all the things little humans learn and accomplish for the first time. The opposing side of this struggle is that i have an overwhelmingly huge desire to be my own person, and to see the world on my own terms which happens to come with the cost of missing out.

Andrew Christopher Paul Lamoureux

Andrew Christopher Paul Lamoureux

I obviously believe it’s worth it. Just in the last winter i fell in love with snowboarding. It’s something ill do every winter for the rest of my life if i possibly can. I’ve also experienced a lot of new things, met a lot of people coming from all over the world. I mean I’ve never been surrounded by more British and Australian people in my life. In these moments of meeting people i have terribly funny things happen. Whistler will literally provide me with all the material i need to be the funny grandmother with ridiculous stories… Including the boy who poo’d in my bed.

Let’s call him Jake*. Me and Jake had spoken over Facebook as whistler people do quite often through the community group page and had run into each other quite a few nights partying. One night he came back to my house, we had a very funny conversation with my roommate and her boy and then we went to ….sleep. You know in the morning when you hazily wake up and just stare , well my stare landed on my thigh which had brown stuff on it. I confusingly wiped it off and got in the shower. I did not know it was poo at this point. When i had finished Jake had gotten dressed and was on his way out. I proceeded to see him out and start cleaning up the bed. This my friends… is where i found a brown little turd.

Seriously.

Seriously.

It’s okay to laugh. Because that’s what i did after i absolutely freaked and thought it was me. But after many analysis from placement on the bed to what my own poo looks like. It definitely could not have been mine… leaving Jake the culprit.

Most of the time i don’t know what to say after i’ve told this story. This is one of the kind, comedic movie sort of stuff.. Seriously the kind of thing I’m pretty sure people can only make up in their imaginations for a good laugh. But nope. This happened. to me . and i was left to deal with human feces not of my own or of a young child, but of a grown man.

Somewhere in my life choices i gave up cleaning up Baby Andrew’s poo for Grown man Jake’s poo. Putting it that way doesn’t make my choice seem all that great but it is a hilarious story to tell everyone….

if i was a stand up comedian this story would be a nugget of Gold, pun very much intended.

Stay tuned for more ridiculous, heart wrenching and snow conquering stories.