Here's a news flash - I'm not so private. Lynda says I must get a perverse enjoyment from exposing myself for all to see. If that's what I do, then at least I keep the exposing to words only. I'm not sure the world is ready for a pictorial centerfold spread of anything I have to offer. Those particular privates are best served by remaining as such.
I wasn't always so public. Actually, I was quite the opposite. Lynda was the first person I felt I could truly open up to and I only met her when I was in my mid 20's. Growing up, the members of my family were doers, not talkers. Mom and dad worked and did whatever it was grown ups were supposed to do. It was a mystery to us kids. My brothers, sister and I played sports, got in scraps with one another and other kids, teased one another incessantly, went to school and worked our part-time jobs. We weren't big on discussing feelings. I had no idea that many families do that sometimes or that it's a normal and healthy activity. There was something different in my relationship with Lynda. I felt that no matter what I told her, she would still feel the same about me. Perhaps it was because Lynda exposed herself to me (chuckle). I mean that purely in the sense that she shared her innermost secrets with me. It was my first real relationship. One based on trust and understanding. Thankfully, Lynda oozes understanding.
My career in the RCMP and the events that ultimately lead to me leaving the Force were the catalysts for this blog. I discovered that not only is writing therapeutic, but sharing some of the painful lessons I experienced is something that I really need to do. Giving too much of myself to the RCMP, questioning the choices of my superiors, fed up with the unhealthy competition between the RCMP and the RNC, and enduring bad decisions by several Provincial Court judges on cases of mine, all came together to create a personal fire storm. Hell, may be a better descriptor.
I didn't handle it well. Lynda was with me for the ride. These events unfolded over months, perhaps even years, and I was always able to talk to her. It helped, but I now know I needed so much more. Most life partners aren't equipped to fix such things, especially when one's dilemma is caused by things outside of the relationship.
Looking back now, given that the fog has lifted, it was a surreal ride. I'm a very average person. I would guess that most of you aren't so different from me. If depression can put its unforgiving claws into my hide, then why not you? I experienced all of the typical symptoms leading up to the point where I crashed and burned. I was as oblivious as a newborn baby. My job as a narcotics officer became difficult, so I just worked longer hours to try and get ahead of it. When exercise became difficult, I stopped playing hockey and going to the gym. Lynda and the kids, instead of being the lights of my life, became dark figures who demanded more of me than I was willing to offer. I just wanted to be left alone. I was tired, so tired.
The day finally came. I drove the ten minutes to work one morning in late March of 2008, just as I had for years. I sat in my car in the multi-tiered parking lot that overlooks the cold, brown brick of the RCMP headquarters building. I couldn't get out of the car. My mind and body finally had had enough. For the first time in a long time they acted as one. Body and mind were in self preservation mode. I had gone to the edge of the precipice, but I would not fall. Some aren't so fortunate.
I've been working my way back into life. There have been bumps along the way. I've had my share of sleepless nights, tears, long walks, morbid thoughts, what ifs, endless questioning of why me, and wondering where the heck do I go from here. The good has finally supplanted the bad. Time has a way of righting what's wrong. Time, a better understanding of life and a better understanding of myself.
Two days ago I was sitting with my psychologist, who has been with me since that day I froze in the parking lot. Second only to Lynda in knowing who I am, he said something that I've been thinking about ever since. I've been searching for a job and have had a difficult time in finding something that fits. If you've followed my stories over the past two years, you are well aware of my foray into jobs at Costco (10 days) and the provincial government (4 weeks). I'm not a quitter by nature, but I just had to get out of those jobs. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that they both have parking lots. I'll run that one by my shrink.
I digress. What my psychologist said is that I need to find a job that gives me something in return. That thing is not money, it's not opportunity, nor is it status. The things I need are to feel good about myself, to feel appreciated and to believe I'm helping. Perhaps I've always had those needs. A career as a police officer seemed to address them quite nicely, but we all know how that story ended. I'll keep searching.
Meanwhile, I'll continue to coach chess, hockey and basketball and to teach power skating. I'll tinker around at my friend's garage, look after the houses of my neighbours, plough driveways when the snow falls, and be a best friend to my dogs. I'll carry on with chauffeuring my kids and their friends to swim club, basketball practices, curling, outings to the mall and to wherever else they need to go.
Writing this story has been an enjoyable way to spend my Sunday morning. My life may not be so private, but it's good. I can think of worse ways I could have chosen to expose myself, particularly when it's November in Newfoundland. If I ever choose to take that route, at least I'll have an excuse for the shrinkage.....it's cold out. Just ask Lynda, she's got my back.
