Let's Start at the Start

In the fall of 2008, a monumental change occurred in my life: through my own misgivings I had lost the devout companionship and unconditional love of someone I held near and dear to my heart. Perhaps it is a slight understated to say I had messed up, but there it is: I had messed up.

Without going into much detail, I had compromised my future. It was not only in the "well shit, now I'm single" sense, but all the plans, ideas, and dreams I had seemed awash. I didn't quite know how to repair the damages I had done to my life, her life, or the lives otherwise effected by the year that was to follow.

Until mid-December of 2009, I could not hold a job or bring myself to a state of personal pride. Being conceited was never something I took to, yet I had held my head high for most of my life, being pleased with my progressions personally and professionally, and proud of my achievements in music and social outreaches. This particular year saw very little for me to speak highly of in respect to myself. Aside from playing in two great bands, making new friends, and keeping out of trouble (i.e., remaining single), I did not have pride in my own being.

Life was proving not be "living". It was merely existence.

Throughout 2009 I lived in a sort of silent depression, taking my private time to heap upon myself the lashings of self-disgust. Several month-long bouts with alcoholism, a dependence on nicotine that could peel paint (and did, in one example), and the want of disconnection brought sadness and emptiness to my door daily.

Where I'd decided to never let this show publicly, neither to friends or family, I saw very little chance of coming out of this state. Anyone who knew me knew I enjoyed a drink, and knowing me now are well aware that I still do. The difference in these personal timeframes was that while a few drinks then was followed by several more alone at home, these days it is a measured endeavor, no matter how many KISS songs I demand on a given night.

Throughout the later half of 2009, I saw the changes as clear as day versus night. I was getting away from the self-destructive lines of binge drinking, cutting back my smoking habit to a respectable lever (however, coffee and alcohol DO require such company), and I was regaining that old feeling again.

Happily, I report that I am now on the up and up.

In all honesty, I can only say the beginnings of personal repair are in the works, as I realize there is much, much further to go. I do not believe love will ever feel to me the way it did, and am unsure that my misgivings and mistrusts to anyone I offended and hurt over the last year will ever be completely patched. My parents unconditional love and assistance throughout that period will never be forgotten and could never be quantified, but the qualifying resides somewhere between angelic and Godly. My brother, with whom my relationship has never been stronger than in the past few years, has always been the last mouth to open, but never an off word has come in my times of need. His support and influence on my life is now, and will ever remain, a pillar of my core being. The person I have hurt most, my lovely ex-girlfriend, has become a great addition to my list of friends, though I would dare say I barely deserve the reconciliation, let alone the exertion it would take for her to, let's say, tell me to fuck off.

I guess, in retrospect, those people whose relations I put in peril have been the very same people who have helped me to get back on my feet. Family, as I have come to know and expect, never turn their backs on you, usually opting instead for the other cheek. Most friends never knew of my personal plight, save for the Reader's Digest version in which I would pass it off as "its just a bad day here and there"; most thought it was business as usual and were unaware that this hint of normalcy was of a great service. The friends that did know were capable of transferring strength beyond the power of any God one could believe in, never gave up on me, and I thank them to the ends of who I am. My ex proved to be the strongest person I have ever known, not only forgiving me, but completely accepting me back into her life as a relied upon friend. This did not go without note, and would prove to be the plateau from which I would jump into the rest of my life.

To paraphrase the year nicely, I had gone from the perfect storm to smooth sailing.

All these things in mind, and with all the changes at hand, my decision to take action on my life was made. After securing a new job mid-December, I said goodbye to family, friends, band mates, a former lover, and the sights and sounds of home in New Brunswick. I packed up the necessities and headed for Hay River, Northwest Territories.

From here on in, you will be exposed to posts of journal entries, local history, scenery, and some rather personal things I would never discuss face to face with about 95-percent of you.

Greetings from Hay River; this is the diary of a hosehead.