Journey Into The Light

Born November 20th of 1986 in the big city of Calgary Alberta, I was brought into this world by a great mother who worked 3 jobs to make ends meet and a less than qualified father who happened to be a drug addicted and extremely abusive man toward myself, my brother but mostly my mother. At the very start of this crazy life I was predisposed to a life that could be considered " colorful at best". For as long as I can remember I have always been a quiet and obedient lad who never enjoyed getting into any trouble, I had always tried to fly under the radar, so to speak, and draw as little attention to myself as possible because of a fear of disappointing others. I was a good boy and never wanted to cause any harm, I only wanted to make friends and be a good person by helping out as much as possible whenever the occasion would present itself. My entire life I was always a hard worker believing in this simple notion, " An honest day's work for an honest day's pay". The one good piece of advice I had picked up from my father who also prided himself on being a hard worker. My first memory of being a hard worker and suffering a brutal injury way too early in life was when I had went to visit my father and help him move to a new house. Since my mother and father had split up before I was born, I never got to see him much. To put a number to the amount of visits, it would have to be around 3-4 visits per year. Even though I hardly knew the man, I looked up to him and listened because that's the kind of person I am. A do as you're told kind of lad. This particular visit, My father had to move across the city a ways, From Renfrew to Tuxedo. A short 15 minute drive from what I remember. During the move we had gotten to the point where all the little stuff was moved and all that was left was a large blue suede couch which had 3 seat cushions and a reclining backrest on each end making this couch what felt like 400 pounds but was probably more in the range of 220 to 250 lbs. For a young fella of only 11 years old, that seemed like a little too heavy for me to be carrying up and down the stairs of a basement suete and over a concrete ledge of roughly 18 inches high. It was this very ledge that had given me the life changing injury and had set the stage for a very painful and depressive upbringing. As I was carrying one side of this couch, I was struggling quite a bit because I did not have the required muscle to do the job. But stubborn as I was I did not want to disappoint my father who was razzing me the entire duration of the move which is harassing me about being weak and telling me i need to work harder. I wanted him to stop the harassing and prove to him that I could the job and I remember stepping onto this ledge with my left leg having the full weight of this couch on the one tiny leg of mine when I heard and felt a "pop-pop" in my lower back, Instantly my leg had lost feeling. I had told my father what had happened but he did not take it seriously and continued razzing me. I knew something was not right but I kicked the thought out of my head and continued to work. The pop in my back was 2 discs herniating and I had felt it for the next 10 years without any pain relief no matter how much I had complained to the doctors. I was always told that I was too young to have back problems and was never taken seriously. Truth is, I spent every day after that in severe pain, crying as I got out of my desk in school silently. In my mind I kept telling myself I was being a wussy like my father had done that day. The doctors finally took me seriously when I had begged and pleaded to send me for an MRI when I was in my early 20's. The result of that MRI was that I now had proof that I had been living with something called "Congenital Spinal Stenosis" which to my understanding meant that I had a smaller than average spinal canal where all the nerves were running along my spine. This condition had made the pain much worse than an average person with the same injury because of the nerves already being squeezed prior to any swelling. When the 2 discs herniated, it went untreated into adulthood and never healed properly. When the issues were discovered the doctors all of a sudden had painkillers for me, and the good ones. Not the baby aspirin that most people get, I was getting Percocet, oxycontin and fentanyl patches. These heavy painkillers truthfully ruined my life in the sense that I had become addicted to them and always doubled up and sometimes even tripled my dosage to relieve the pain, also abusing them on a regular basis to bring artificial joy to my life with a euphoric sense of wellbeing and a touch of a comfortable nod which had me taking frequent naps whenever I sat still for any short length of time. But I am jumping ahead In the timeline so back to pre-teenage years I go. It was very hard on me living in constant and severe pain, I was also made fun of a lot because of the way I had walked due to the injury. Always moaning and groaning every time I got up created the illusion that I was a complaining weakling that could not do anything that normal kids could do. Older people and other children alike always looked down on me and assumed I was useless rather than seeing a seriously injured and strong willed child that I actually was. everything I was feeling inside with my emotions and self esteem mixed with the constant feeling of unacceptance in the world around me had taken me down a dark path. I had begun fantasizing about my own death and contemplating my own mortality on a daily basis. I was becoming suicidal because of my feeling of never seeing an end to my pain and misery. If there was a God he obviously did not care much about me. I always seemed to get the short end of the stick with everything. Never getting a break and never winning anything. I had no friends and i had totally become so withdrawn from the world and my family. I dressed in dark colors and began to express myself in ways that would show the world that I had no interest in it nor did i have a friendly look . The look i had was of person that had taken too much in life and could explode at any time. you know, typical punk/goth look. and it worked, i was no longer being teased or even approached by people for the most part. even though deep down i was just a nice guy that would do anything for a friend. My friends from that time and this one would definitely agree as well. However, sometimes there would be a "less than intelligent person" with the intent on flexing nuts would attempt to fight me or make me look bad in some way in an attempt to make them appear stronger or smarter. whatever the reasons they had, I rarely worked out for them. I was never a fighter by any means nor did I act like i was. however, when it came down to proving myself a man and standing my ground, someone usually got hurt and most likely paid a visit to the hospital and the police as well. I hated that. I was always having to defend myself somehow, some way just to survive it seemed. I became known as a basket case or a psychopath because I was rarely made to look like a wimp or a fool to the people testing me. There are many examples of this in the following pages and chapters, none of them giving me a sense of pride. In fact I usually felt so bad that I would break down crying because i felt bad for hurting someone else even though I was usually dragged into doing that. One example of me having to " Man Up" as my father would say, I was walking down the street in bridgeland Calgary when all of a sudden some kid from my school who ad a twin brother and liked to team up with him and try to take on kids less cool than they where had me in their sights. At that moment I had no idea what they were doing spraying random people in the face with a water gun that had some pressure to it. I witnessed these 2 kids harassing people walking down the sidewalk and laughing hysterically while they sprayed these people at point blank range never stopping to spray each other and play in the way a normal water fight should be. I thought to myself, "whatever, it's only water", so I continued walking my path. Sure enough these kids spotted me and began their assault, laughing wildly as they did it. I stopped walking and opened my arms giving them a clear shot and taking almost the whole remaining fluid they had in their gun straight to my face. little did I know, it was human urine. Until of course I got a few houses down from them. Instantly I saw red when I smelled the stale aroma of piss on my clothes.I thinking about how much actually got in my mouth and eyes when I spotted a large broken shard of a stone on the side of the road. Quickly I picked up the shard and turned to face the kid and I took aim. With the speed and accuracy of a professional baseball player, I whipped the stone right at that kid's head slicing his ear nearly in half. Instantly the kid dropped to his knees squealing. Holding his head in his hands and bleeding profusely from his ear, all I could do is turn and keep walking as I was so angry and I knew it would not be long before I would be getting a visit from the kid's parents and or a police officer. When I arrived at home, I calmly confessed my actions to my father. To my surprise he was actually proud of me for sticking up for myself. I remember how good I felt and the jokes my father was making to calm me further. That was until 2 police officers and the kid's mother came pounding at the door. In that very moment, my fathers proud and exhilarated mood turned into a look of disgust and a "don't even look at me" as the 2 police grabbed my arm and cuffed me from the back. I remember the tightness of the cuffs and the officers stern demeanor. I was led down my apartment stairs and into the backseat of the police car. I was then read my rights by one of the officers and processed by the other on a computer that was located in the front seat of the squad car. I was so scared at the time because it was my first time being arrested. The officers had informed me that I was being charged with " aggravated assault with a weapon causing bodily harm and then took me to the station downtown to be finger printed. I now had a court date and an angry father to face. I was nearly in tears but held it in like a man. After arriving back at home I had learned from my father that the child who was struck was in fact a hemophiliac and his mother was extremely scared for her child because of the risk of him bleeding to death from the injury. I had assumed the worst at that point. I had expected to be imprisoned upon arrival on my court date. I was young and did not know what was to be expected, I just thought the worst and it ate me so bad in the following weeks. At this point I was basically disowned by my father and he kicked me out of his house. I suppose he was trying to teach me a lesson by doing this, or perhaps he just wanted the house to himself so he could get drunk on vodka and smoke c***k as he normally did. This time It was summer time so thankfully it wasn't cold out otherwise I would have probably frozen to death by the time he was good enough to let me in. I spend the following days awaiting my court date hanging around homeless people i befriended. One homeless man I befriended was Dale. Dale was a 60 year old fella who fell on tough times and lost everything in a bankruptcy. he was an extremely sad old man that did not do any hard drugs, only smoked m*******a and had the occasional beer behind the 7-11 convenience store in the area. Dale was very good to me and felt he had to protect me. The streets in calgary were no joke especially for a 13-14 year old kid. during this time, i was actually living with my father but spent all my time with dale or at my grandmothers in the north end. I hated living with my father so any chance i had to get away, i took it. My grandmother was a quadriplegic and needed constant care so i spent a lot of time helping her with her daily needs. When she did not need me i was out looking for dale. He was like a real father to me it seemed. To say the truth, I honestly loved him like a father, he did what a father should do for me. Everything that my real father failed to do like teach me how to stand up for myself and survive on the streets. He also taught me to hang sideways on a sign post with my feet sticking out the side like a flag being blown from the pole by the wind. I don't know what happened to dale though, he just disappeared one day after a argument i witnessed involving a native american gang banger inder the langevin bridge down town by the cecil hotel. what i saw was this native american guy with a blue denim jacket with patches on it and cut off sleeves. This man had asked dale for a cigarette, dale had told the man that he only had a small box of cigarette butts but offered some anyway. the native man had then tried to take everything in the box being greedy. Dale disagreed with the man's actions and proceeded to argue. I can remember the man looking at me then staring at Dale with malice and hatred over these cigarette butts. Dale asked me kindly to go home as that was no place for a youngster like me. I complied and returned home to my father and did not see Dale again until 2 days later, I found him underneath the same bridge with his face bandaged up especially around the chin, ears and nose. I remember asking what happened and he could not say much as he was in pain but he did peel off some of his bandage exposing his nose and what I saw was horrible. his nose was literally stitched back into his face. there was only a small section of skin that was holding his nose to his face. I felt sick to my stomach. That native guy came back and hurt Dale real bad over cigarette butts! I never did see Dale again after that day. he just vanished. I spent hours looking for him after school most days but never had any luck. something inside me tells me he's gone. and I'll never see him again. it makes me so sad because he was like a father to me. and I will never forget him or the lessons he taught me. Eventually I stopped looking for Dale and got the court thing settled. when I showed up for court I did not have money for a lawyer and had to go with a free public defender. The Lawyer was a younger mid 30's male, clean cut and seemed like a really nice guy from what I can remember. he took my case and got me off the hook with only an 8 pm curfew for 6 months. He basically just stood up for me and asked the judge what he would do if someone were to spray piss in his mouth! The Judge did not take long to answer the question replying " if it were me, I would have probably done worse". He then went on explaining his disgust for the transfer of bodily fluids being disgusting and he totally sided with me. I was so happy because here I was ready to go to jail and then being given a slap on the wrist so to speak and being let go. I still feel bad for the kid that got it though. but I can be safe in assuming he never did that again too anyone l, or at least I hope he didn't. I ended up being suspended from that school because the principal did not like me much. I never did figure out why, his excuse was that I was too violent for his school. I thought it was silly because I'm not violent in any way. I only defend myself as I've been taught to. Eventually I ended up moving back in with my mother in a small town called Bassano. by the time I moved back I was a changed boy I wore a Black trenchcoat and rocked a 6 inch tall spiked mohawk with 2 lip piercings bing 1/2 inch sharp steel spikes at both sides of my bottom lip. I painted my fingernails black and listened to heavy metal. Needless to say, I stuck out like a sore thumb in a small farm town of ranchers and farmers. It was here in this town that I really began to experience life. I had made friends, lost them spent a lot of time trying to kill myself. Facing all this depression and nobody to turn to I began self harming and using all kinds of drugs and then washing them all down with alcohol. As I continued with this self destructive behavior, I saw a lot of crazy things at parties. Because I felt I had to be messed up to escape this big black cloud. As I grew into a young man, the partying had gotten much worse and depression turned into suicidal ways of thinking. Everything in my life at this time was so unbearably negative that I wanted out. Strange paranormal things were happening to me that I could not explain. The feeling of not belonging anywhere did not help me much either. I began using excessive amounts of drugs and alcohol and not caring because it felt better than living a life I did not ask for and also it made people like me more especially when I was buying. But when I was not partying my phone hardly ever rang, it seemed that I had no friends at all and it was very hard on me. I always knew there was a higher power in this universe, something bigger than myself. I just could not put a face or a name to it nor could I understand why my life was a living hell and what I did to deserve it. During these years God really began showing himself in my life. at least this is when I noticed him. there are so many instances where the good Lord has interacted with my life. in the following pages there is a story about God giving me exactly what I needed at exactly the right time and it is so far fetched and unbelievable but this stuff cannot be made up, everything has happened and many things up until now have happened that undoubtedly proves God's existence to me. Usually when God is involved, the number 3 is there somewhere, every time too. and I think it is because of the holy Trinity! God is 3. Father, son and the holy spirit. Jesus was crucified at 3 pm. The car he bought me costs $3000 and so on.... the following is the story about the car God had purchased for me. THE DONKEY Most of my life I was not mentally stable, I admit that I had a lot of suicidal thoughts. This time in my life I had way more than usual. I found myself in psychiatric hospitals on numerous occasions, but this one specific time I had sunk so low that I tried to hang myself with a bed sheet inside my room at the hospital. I was in this hospital located in central Alberta for about a month then transferred to another for a few weeks. Just before I was transferred, I had spoken with my mother on the phone and she informed me of something miraculous that had happened but refused to tell me until I was better and back home, she eventually caved and told me though. She mentioned that a woman she had never met before nor did I. This woman been ng from Texas which is on the other side of the united states, came into her place of work and the woman mentioned that God had told her that she needed to help me. The woman bought a $3000.00 used car which was a Subaru Outback and white in color. It was nothing extravagant just a plain car that ran well. While handing my mother a blank bill of sale along with the keys to the car, the woman also gave my mother a glass ornament with the tree of life inside it. The timing could not have been any better because it was exactly what I needed to get back to work and try to return to a normal life. I was shocked by this and did not believe it to be real. I got home and tried to go back to normal but once again found myself drinking and doing more drugs, not doing well in life at all. I had this gift car that I had decided to name "The Donkey" since Jesus rode into Nazareth on a plain donkey. I thought that name suited it best. As things in my life continually got worse, I eventually found myself drinking and driving down country back roads acting crazy and cussing at God. I was so angry that I was driving dangerously and I took a sharp right corner on that Icy back road around 80 kilometers per hour and went into a skid. While attempting to regain control of the car and failing, I slid down into a very steep embankment and slammed the car into a larger than usual power pole. The car hit right behind my head on the driver side and on impact, my head went through the driver window. Most of the glass in the car exploded which sounded like a gunshot going off. Nothing in the car was in its original place except the cross I had hanging from the rear-view mirror. I could very well have died if I impacted the door instead of behind my head. Most people would count their blessings after something like that, but oh no! not me! I continued doing the wrong things still in and out of hospitals. My life was headed nowhere and I mean really quick! I worked odd jobs and continued with my self-destructive ways. In turn, my life only brought more suffering and pain. The black cloud was growing and I was drowning in it. FORT Mac Eventually I had found myself working at an oilfield construction type job in northern Alberta, I remember having a very hard time at this job with my co-workers. I never really fit in with people so needless to say, I was harassed a lot. I was so stressed out and began having auditory hallucinations of my father yelling in my left ear and the company I was employed by ended up putting me on a night shift. For about a month or so, I worked alone for the most part. Nights were a bit easier to handle because I only had to deal with a couple people throughout my night. However, I was still under a lot of stress and began having strange headaches that seemed to float around my head and made my hair feel like it was growing. One night I got into my work truck and was about to leave the office parking lot and for some reason there was a Christian radio station playing on the radio with uplifting music. As I was listening to this radio station, I heard God talk to me. God said these 3 things; Everything will be ok, you will feel so much better when the drugs leave your body, and finally he said I will see you soon. I knew in my heart that those words were meant for me but could not understand the words about drugs leaving my body since I had not touched any in at least a month. I kept that radio station playing all night and it almost felt like every worker in the plant had stopped working and were sitting in their lunch rooms until I was ready to begin. It was so calming and made me feel almost kingly even though I was nobody special. Once I was ready to start my night, I made my way to meet up with a fella who worked with another company who I had to collaborate with. We were sitting at a table talking and somehow our conversation turned to another subject other than work. He told me that if I imagine myself walking down a road and running into a barricade just to stop and go over the barricade only to find myself running into another barricade and life being harder than it previously was. He went on with the same concept a couple more times, he then said bluntly with a smile, "If you run into a barricade......It's only because you are not supposed to go that way....so turn around!". He and I laughed about it for a few minutes before we left to complete our work for the night. I continued to listen to that station all night while in my work truck. The next day when I got to work, I tried searching for that station again and could not find it. It seemed to not even exist; all I could find was static when I turned my radio to where it was set the night before. During my time at this job, I had an uncontrollable urge to start writing a book about all my life experiences. I worked hard on it when I had the free time but I was still very much stressed out and being hasty with my writing. My mind was so rattled that I began stretching the truth in some of these stories and it definitely showed in my writing. It was so full of blame and negativity. I kept writing for a while but eventually stopped and I lost the USB drive which I kept my story on later on in life. I know now that losing it was for the best. I stayed another couple weeks at that job then was sent home for medical reasons. I took the medical layoff offered and returned to my house in the city nearby. Weeks went by and I was staying away from drugs and alcohol in an attempt to get my mind straight. While I was at home one night sleeping on the couch in my basement suite, I woke up around 3:00 am almost completely paralyzed. It felt as if something was sitting on my chest holding my arms down at my sides. For some reason I knew that I had to make the sign of the cross on my chest so I fought with my right arm as hard as I could to make the sign and Literally saw bright white light come through the window which was at the other end of the couch and shine right on the floor beside me. Instantly I could move again and this happened just as quickly the light had vanished. I was a little bit shook up and confused and thought I was losing my mind. I spoke with my doctor and psychologist about this and also about god talking to me through the radio station that didn't exist, I was told that these were only hallucinations. For a while I believed that and continued to take my medications and continue to make many attempts at bettering myself but eventually giving up and returning to my old ways. This in turn, led me back to the town I hated the most and it was time to start over and try again. Time went on and I moved between cities and towns working different jobs met some good people and not so good people along the way.