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Little Black Book of Eventually Read Secrets
Good Bye Big City (2015-2017 Recap)
Its December 9th. I know I just posted an entry, but I figured I'd follow it up with something that I feel is happier. A bit more upbeat. A bit more...something else? [*The more I typed, the more I realized that this isn't actually a super happy entry till the end. This is more of a recap of our lives here from 2013 to now. So get ready for this to get derailed real quick! Haha]

On December 12th, I finally say Good Bye to this city that I've grown to hate so much. I say Farewell to this house that, although it was my son's first home, it was a house of heart ache and mostly-bad memories.

And on December 12th, I finally get to go back to where it all began. I get to go home.

In 2013 I moved to the big city. Things weren't great. My fiance at the time and I had disconnected, yet were planning our wedding. He lost his job in Timmins, a job that was...supposed to be everything. It paid 25/hour, full benefits, we had a truck, a house, we got engaged...we had everything. And in a year, we lost everything. Including ourselves. We were stuck in a proverbial hell.

So, we moved to the big city, with hopes of starting over somewhere new. Didn't realize it would only take us further from where we needed to be. My fiance went to school, and I continued planning the wedding--out about 10 grand now. But we made as many changes as we could, and we continued on. Our relationship only managed to fall apart more. But, by 2014, we eventually got married. And, honestly, it was the happiest day of my life at the time. Everything was perfect. But when we got home, we kinda got hit in the face with reality; no job, Aaron dropped out of school, and we were living in 900 square feet with my parents, 2 dogs, and 2 cats. My physical health plateaued for a time as I had access to a gym. But my mental health tanked. So did my husband's.

At the end of 2014, we (My parents included) made the decision to move just to the outer districts of the big city. To yet another big city called Brampton. Into a town house. And boy, I sure was excited. So much space, a fenced in backyard, our bedroom was twice as big as the one in the condo. We had a basement, Aaron got a job. We had everything.

Cue the next 3 years of hell we would endure. Early 2015, me and Aaron fell apart, I engaged in a emotional affair with a close friend, divorce was dragged onto the table, got drunk often, abused my medication, almost destroyed myself. Aaron and I separated. Aaron moved back to our home town, North Bay. He went back to school for addictions counselling.

Then, just as I thought our journey together was over, I got pregnant. Whoops! Haha...I often joke about how that saved our marriage. But in reality, it really did. I didn't want to get pregnant. I wasn't ready. My marriage was hitting the rocks hard. My life was falling apart. But then, Thomas came along. I ended my affair, repaired things with Aaron. And I entered into 2 months of depression, 4 months of absolute bliss, followed by 2 months of, "Oh god get this baby out of me."

Didn't make it full term. About a month before full term, I started having contractions. I ignored them, continued doing stupid things like lifting heavy boxes, running long errands, painting walls. Just being an over all idiot. I was in labor for a week before my water broke preterm at 3 in the morning, May 13th 2016.

The first year with Thomas was difficult. Heartbreaking. It changed me into a completely different person. I've said before, and I'll say it again; You don't know true heartache until you have a sick child. Thomas was a preemie, and every preemie come with their fair share of health problems. We were lucky, but all stretches of the imagination. I was 1 week shy of 'full term', 37 weeks. But I was 4 weeks early from his due date. Tom was a preemie. But he was a big preemie...And it feels funny saying that now. He was 6 pounds 9 ounces. At that time, I was relieved. That was big! Even the doctor's told me; he's a big preemie. But now...He's 27 pounds. A healthy baby? Should be about 8 pounds 6 ounces. It took Thomas 5 weeks before he started fitting into newborn clothing. But we endured through the hardship. Two packages of preemie diapers, 4 weeks of absolute hell as a single mum with PPD and struggling to breast feed. When he due date finally came, things started getting better. He started putting on weight, he found his rooting reflex and started nursing, I reconnected and Aaron finally moved back in to help me.

But that wasn't the end of our troubles. It was honestly just the beginning. In July, Thomas had a seizure and went limp in my arms. We rushed him to the hospital where we stayed for almost a week while they ran all sorts of tests on him. I have memories of me and Aaron standing at the window at sun rise, looking over the parking lot while holding Thomas, and wondering if we could ever accept this view into the possibility of our life. We had been in and out of the hospital what felt like every week since he was born. He had problems, like I said. But 3 more seizures later, and suddenly he was fine again. By September, he was deemed healthy. No more head scans and poking and proding. Just blood tests and scary results every 6 months.

But we managed. We walked out of Sick Kids happy, knowing our baby was going to live and be fine. Things should've gotten better. But it didn't. Me and Aaron fought constantly after Thomas was born. The fights got so intense sometimes, there's still chips of wood missing from the floor where he threw his mug; a piece of ceramic still in the wall. We fought about stupid things. We were so unhappy, so stressed...Then I got into a car accident, 2 weeks before Christmas. T-Boned in an intersection by some a*****e running the red. I won't detail that here, you can read it a few entries back titled, "A Gray Car". All I remember is the sound of metal on metal, ringing in my ears, my mom bouncing off the steering wheel, screaming, nothing, and smoke. I walked away physically fine. No bruises, no cuts, my back stayed in place. I even had my phone in my hand when I came too, and my glasses on my face. Mentally and emotionally, I was ******** up beyond believe.

And my mom? She was dying. We just didn't know it yet.

The accident cause severe swelling everywhere on her. She was home, she didn't have to stay at the hospital, but she wasn't there. Every day new bruises would show up, darker and more uglier than the last. Christmas came and went. We got the tree up two days before christmas, the lights up christmas eve. And then nothing. Mom was...around. But what we didn't know is that the accident knocked lose a blood clot somewhere in her body, and it was travelling to her heart. If you knew this back then...You could see it. Every day, we were losing her. A little bit at a time. She was constantly falling asleep. Her breathing was wheezy at first, then became fast, then started to get shallow. You'd be talking to her, and you could see her eyes practically glaze over....She'd wake up sometimes, and she couldn't even really say who you were at first. Something was wrong. We just were slow on the uptake.

I was seeing a therapist from when I had PPD. I was struggling with the trauma of the accident. But I got better over time on my own. I went from screaming when a piece of ice slid off the roof, to sobbing when we hit a pot hole, to digging nails into leather at intersections. Now I'm mostly okay, and been almost exactly a year later. Sometimes I just can't breathe when we go through an intersection. But that's only because I've got the disadvantage of my mental disorder working against me. Anyways.

Christmas came and went. New years came and went. I spent the countdown standing over Thomas' crib, watching him sleep, crying and thanking god 2016 was finally over. "Please let 2017 be better".

Sorry to disappoint, but it wasn't. If anything, it was just as bad, minus a few things. Me and Aaron were in steady decline, I was getting more lost by the day. The man I had the previous affair with came back into my life which just complicated things. May came, and it was probably the worst month I've ever really had. Went to Florida, and aside from a few things, it was absolutely awful. I was out of control with my depression and anxiety and over all just...everything. Mum was dying--we were actually incredibly lucky she didn't actually die on the trip. She was pretty damn near it. Wasted a lot of money on a useless trip that was just miserable and full of fighting and disorganization. Not to mention I took Thomas and left Aaron at home for the trip, and me and Aaron didn't talk at all. Not even on our anniversary. When I came home, we patched things a little. But a lot was left unsaid. By the end of May, there was one night where I was sitting on the couch and I looked over to mom in her chair, and her lips were blue. She was barely breathing. That was it. The next day, May 29th, was an appointment for Thomas at the hospital, and I convinced her to go to emerge. She wasn't going to, until she went to see our doctor at her walk in, and they barely let her leave without calling an ambulance to rush her. We got her to the hospital, I went on to my appointment, when I came down, mom was on oxygen and just getting worse. Later that night, she was admitted, and we found out that her oxygen was just over 50. If we didn't get her on oxygen, the doctor's told her with absolute certainty that she would've died that night in her sleep.

She was in the hospital for 2 weeks. First week was like a coma for her. She can't remember much. She was pretty well unconscious for most of it. Second week she got better. I struggled at home pretty hard. I tried to keep the house together in her absence, but it wasn't good. You can read about that a few entries back. I was in a dark place. And that continued over the summer. I started abusing my medications again. By the end of June, I finally saw a psychiatrist, and was put on 5 different medications to try and save me. And of course, as with all meds related to depression, it sank me first before it finally started working. Me and Aaron didn't really sleep in the same bed anymore as he took a night job, so I was alone alot. I hurt myself. A lot. I resented being a mother and just wished I could die. In August, the man that hit us in the accident walked away because the cop was too lazy to help us. This only fed into my intense hatred for this city. Its full of over privileged assholes who have no value of life in any one person. I want to rant about it...But I just hate it here...

Come October, things started to look up. My medication started to work finally. That man and I parted ways, and I started pulling things back together. The fog in my head that convinced me I was insane started to lift, and I started getting better. I was happy again. I was a mother again. A wife. Me and Aaron got better, too...Though he ended up moving out again. Headed back to North Bay after he got a job that pays good. Got a house with my bestfriend, and now they're just waiting on me. November was just a long month of nothing really.

And now, here we are. December. My moving date originally was January, then I moved it to December 27th. And finally, I've moved it to December 12th.

I'm tired of this city. I'm tired of the memories here. North Bay...It was my home for 16 years. Its where I met Aaron, and we fell in love. We got our first apartment together. We moved in together. We have really good memories in North Bay. I have some bad...But I have a lot of good there. A lot of friends. Family.

So I'm finally moving back home. I'm ready to unite my little family under one roof, and rejoin my husband in our long awaited, new found independence. Out on our own again, with our baby. And away from this hell hole of a city. This house had a lot of firsts. Thomas' whole first year and a half was here. But North Bay is where we belong. We never should've left.

Good bye Big City. I'm ready to go home.

Azure Starwish
Community Member
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