Context

Yes, well I would love to. I should be smart here I suppose. It is just hard to explain to people who don't get it, who don't get what it means to me. People don’t care to. Let’s see if I cannot answer your prompt:

Nuclear Family.. (see I am going to cry already.. with that, emotions, just trying to explain it properly). Mother, Father, four Children. Parents cannot stay afloat. Three kids leave without care. Without care until they realise the youngest male (me) that they always stepped on and held down was going to stay hell or high-water, and go down with his parents if he has to, in order to try saving them. He’s going to save them, or die trying, and that’s how it started in adulthood. This while the others laughed at him. They actually laughed right in my face for that.

How I do I even condense this story so it is comprehensible. I would think by now I would just have a simple definition, three on one is hard odds. Three kids undermining one. Mother clutching on.

It’s actually a rough history of being put on the tumble cycle for a couple decades or more. It might seem insane to stay in that situation, but that’s what it took. The sane thing was recognizing with each crash and burn cycle, there was continuance. It took someone to go hard as he could, collapse and then morph with all of the unbeatable dynamics, fill in the blanks, look invisible, get used, get abused, get so depressed that you just accept you are there do what is right. Hold the fort so everyone else can have a chance in life and in the end you die but it’s for the best.

I even dreamt that waking alarmed in deep sweat one night two decades ago. My boss, my mentor, my auxiliary father (one of many), he was trying to get me to leave the nest. Fly away little birdie. Go, now’s your chance. I dreamt I was a retarded little bird working as hard as I could on that nest. Trying to fix it up, mother bird was sick, save her. In the end, she passes and the others, the siblings they let loose, cruelly knocking me right out of that nest as hard as they could without care as they stole the twigs to take back to their own nests. I was on the ground, in the grass beside the house, on my little birdie staring up at the Sun as I passed with no one’s care. Cruel life, that of birds.

That wasn’t the goal in the beginning. In the beginning it was.. where was the beginning? As a child? I love this house? Was it nightmares as a child were I would go into my parent’s bedroom and wake up my father, “Dad, Dad, the money, they are stealing all the money”. That must have been hard on him at the time as I believe he was losing so much. I did that in the middle of night and he sat up with me ensuring that I was fine. He was so tired. In the dream, someone was stealing his truck that was full of cash . He showed me out the window that the truck was still there. I went back to sleep making promises to myself that I would look after this house. Where was the start? I don’t even know.

I wrote a story on my website about a certain day that I tried to take everything I was taught, everything that I knew this far into life in order to find, establish and chart my path in life. Whatever I did, it had to be right. Even by that age, I noted the simplest decisions can take you far far away without even remote thought towards such. A butterfly effect. For me it was really not that hard, my world was small. I knew what I knew. This home. I just let my answers come to me. I was to stay and do my parents right. Honour thy father, honour thy mother. I was to do my father proud. I was to pick up where he was dropping off.

I was to look after the structure of this house and raise that flag high, restore the pride. Make this house shine like it has never shined before. Pride. Mom was very happy. She just knew. Mother’s instinct. You keep it up and you might get this house she said just ecstatic that was doing work no one else would ever do. I don’t know what to say. That is really the truth of my story. I looked to my hands, I recognized that I made an honest living. I worked hard, but it was honest. That was empowering for me. It was entirely possible for me stay here, pay off this house and live happily ever after. I just had to play the cards right. I had to avoid fouling. I need the right mindset, without ever falling adrift.

If I did everything right, I could look back at 90 years old and know that I did right for my life. I could look back with no regrets. It wasn’t foolish at all. It was really the best thing I could ever do for my person. It was my purpose. My role. My dream. My Right. My Calling. Especially with the way things were. No one had care for dad. We were always lumped together. Both of us laughed at. He just tried and tried and tried. He would have freely given his life without thought for anyone of us. And unfortunately he was taken for granted and put down in many ways. My mother did care for him, it’s just complicated.

My mother, this house it was everything to her. It always has been. It was her world. As her friend said to me, she would have stayed here in this house while it all fell apart all around her. No one was going to go up on the roof to fix it but me. No was going to pay. No one was going to contribute. No one was going to stay at the expense of their own life. Their own health. Their own happiness. No one other than me. That little glitch, that little fact that I would, served as an elastic band for the others. If I am staying, there was no way I was getting more than them. Like a solar system or something. Collisions hurt.

Speed everything until recent times:

After being driven into a really hard dark black bout of near suicide were friends turned white as a ghost expecting me to be dead within a week I recover only to.. only to nearly drop dead from stress not even two years later, again with co-workers thinking I am going to drop dead right on site. I am explaining to an anti-bullying police officer during a well-being check that "he pulls on my heart", "he pulls me down"... my oldest brother that is. Someone who always undermined / sabotaged / picked on me (it’s not his fault, it’s not – I wish him no harm).

I am told "You might have saved your mother's life. Now the problem has transferred to you. You've become the problem. We don't want to deal with a problem". I don't even know how to take that. I am still confused. To me that says we do not want to do our jobs. To me that says we are disgusting people who are complete frauds, taking selfies and making ourselves look good on the public purse. To me it says we are lazy and we do not care about you. Which, is probably not a stretch from the given the course of events.

The story just goes on and on. It just goes on like a bad movie, but it should have ended right there as they had everything they had needed to prove the coercion of an elderly citizen, fraud which brought about bodily harm, and so much more. I almost dropped dead on the three weeks surrounding my 40th birthday. People thought I was actually going to drop dead right on site. Credible people, like a man selected as Officer material during the Vietnam war. That was all planned. It was actually funny to some people to do that to me and time it to hit me right on my 40^th birthday. That’s my life.

I wish I could answer this for you properly, it’s just so much. Roughly two months later I am ping-ponged through the medical system taking more and more damage while being told that they don't want to help (doctors). "We can help you, but we don't want to" I was told with a smile. Only to then find that I am made out to be the ‘threat’ to be neutralized.. a female rookie-ish ‘Officer’ has me in her sights, and she’s gonna get her bad guy, completely clueless about she’s actually doing. Pathetically clueless. The others, I think maybe there was some whistling while looking in the other direction if you know what I mean. Their intent was dispose of their problem (police).

I am told upon return from an unwanted forced heavily damaging hospital incarceration that “We (police) don’t think you should live here anymore. I am warning you, you’d better get out of this house”. Against, both my mother’s and my wishes, I am Arrested for Mischief in a hospital bed, literally thrown into the street with no notice and no where to go. This doesn’t even sound serious until you realise that I am just hanging on by a thread. I cannot afford to take on anymore damage. Pull one pin and I never recover.

I just rebuilt and saved what I saved after a terrible bout of near suicide brought about by post-psychiatric withdrawal from false fraudulent so called ‘medical’ diagnoses. It was either go drive up the canyon and off a cliff or go live homeless on Hastings Street. The story just really does not end. It is just like a really bad comedy movie filmed at my expense. It took a capable Criminal Duty Counsel not even five minutes to determine that I was RAILROADED as she pointed to the obvious evidence. To me, it is actually outright murder because there was no way I was ever going to emotionally, financially, nor logistically survive that.

I am an Artisan, a Trades-person, I work out of the house. It's almost too much to explain. This is not just a house to me either. There is no place like this on Earth to me. It is everything to my person. I have lived here since before I was even born. My mother has cried to me tears that she knows she owes me. My father before he passed away at a young 59 years of age insisted that I make sure that I get. He knew what is in store for me, and I have to thank him . That was the best thing he ever did – instruct me. I am serious, you make sure he said. He knew.

I am HIS Son.

I am My Father’s Son. Mom used to complain, you are going to be just like your Father – “ugh” she would say. I love my dad. I say that with absolutely no shame whatsover. I instantly crack into tears when I say such. When I think of such. I only wish he could know that someone says things like this for his person. He never heard it enough, if at all while he was here. We both cracked in tears, the first and perhaps only time I said it to him. We knew through each-others actions, just as my mother and I have. However, that’s another story – cause she’s under the influence, and I might even say she’s kidnapped right now. She’s over there in the enemy camp. I haven’t seen here in over two months.

The very first Court Hearing had a Media Blockage. The Crown Prosecutor could not even speak. The Judge was in complete aw, jaw on the floor, the whole bit. He said that he had to Rule in favour that I posed a legitimate threat to "them". Them being my siblings who control/influence my mother. The Judge had to do this in order to protect me, from them. So therefor I am left financially destroyed, logistically destroyed, without really any chance of doing anything but faltering and eventually ending up homeless on the street where I am to commit suicide from the intolerable injustice. It’s just been so much. Assaulted, Badgered, I cannot even begin to explain the last five years, let alone twenty-five.

I am sure that it appears pale in comparison to other peoples injustices, but when you really get into the fine details just about every detail feels like it is tenfold worse for me than the average joe next door. I don’t even know how to explain that, I just know that it is true. The Fentanyl / Meth I inhaled. I do not use drugs. The continued Assaults. I do not Assault people. Even in that it is minor. It is the Mental things. The disciplines, the mentalities, the teachings, the.. I don’t know even know anymore. For example I have never been ripped of in work. That is a source of PRIDE. Pride drives me. Well, I have been ripped of for work performed, and not paid due to all these damages. I have never failed my word on a job if I ever gave it. Guess what. I have failed now. I have never left something I am not comfortable with, I have now.

There have been SWAT Teams here. The first time, I have to wonder. If I was home when they came, would I have been shot. I seem to think so. My neighbour who phoned me, he was scared for me. He thought I was going to get hurt. It wouldn’t surprise me if they just shot me. I’d be gone. Problem solved. The killed the guy before me. Same week I think. Close anyways. I am left with no option but walk into a car and kill myself. Then I am told you stay in this position or else. Or else? Or else what? What are you are gong to do stake me and leave to dry out in the Sun? A warning to others? It’s just been so much. So much stupidity. There has been nothing gained. Nothing but false fraudulent statistics used to bolster ever more useless corrupt government programs that just self-perpetuate their own cycle.

Anyways this isn’t very convincing, but it’s worse yet. It just is. The only reason it is not coming out in my writing here, is my state of mind. I feel distant from it at the moment. I am surprised it was only a few days ago, but I felt the smartest thing I could do was commit suicide during a Court Tele-Conference. There you go. You have the Evidence. You killed me. You can write that down on paper. The bureaucracy has what it needs. Destroying my Life, my Home, my Livelihood, my Health, my Relationship with My Own Mother.. all for what? What for?

You had Members of Parliament phoning the RCMP asking for well-being checks. Ask Bill Morneau, he must know my name if he sees it written in text. Suicidal all over this Facebook page. Taking my issues out on him. I am sure that I made him feel uncomfortable more than one. Regardless of what anyone says about that man and his politics. At least he never deleted, nor blocked my person from communicating and for that, he has my respect. Regardless if someone told he’d raped over the coals for it, or if it was simply out of a lack of care. I would prefer to leave the door open that he did that, at least in part, in order to do his bit towards Freedom of Expression.

Thank you for asking, I wish this was written better. I have missed the mark with this writing. I feel so.