my Tuesday

All morning there were thunderstorms. I have gotten up quite early but went back to bed. Felt good to get up late and well-rested.

I had a photo session to do at 2. This was not quite a glamour shoot. I had to take pictures of a woman's plastic surgery scars. She had a face lift a couple years ago and the scarring was so bad it turned out looking like fat worms all around her ears. It sure makes you wonder if having the surgery was worth the risk.. but she is going to go under the knife again to get this repaired. After her next surgery they will bombard her with radiation to prevent the overscarring that happened the first time.

She also made me take pictures of her mouth to show the plastic surgeon as she doesn't like the fine lines that are starting to show up there, so I guess her last experience didn't make her too wary.

She's a pretty woman and she's getting older and I can see how this distresses her. Will I be like her in 10 years? Freaking out because I'm getting older. I certainly don't look like I'm 18 anymore and nothing looks as good as it did back then. Surely we don't have to look young to be loved. I always thought what was most important was how someone made you feel.. more than what they looked like. It was always more important what was going on between their 2 ears than anything else.

Later, I went out to visit the duck pond. With everything that happened this summer, I hadn't been there once. Although the weather in the morning was dreary, the afternoon brought with it warmth and sunshine.. a beautiful day.

Meandering duck:



Reposing gull:



As for me, well... I'm trying to keep a positive attitude. I have moments, but then I put myself in check and pull myself together. There are moments that I feel very lost , as if I will never find my true self.. and other moments, where I feel happy and see a glimmer of who I'm meant to be. The same person I was before but happier, stronger, more confident... the same, just better. Right now the road seems full of faux-pas, trials and tribulations. I hope to believe the road will eventually be smoother.

week of rehearsals

Mentally, I'm trying to keep positive and I want to thank all of you that left such kind and encouraging comments on my blog entries. It really does help to know that people care. Going to rehearsals has helped me too. Even though it's lots of work, it's just so good to be around people that I like and I feel like me. We are a touchy -feely kind of troupe.. so when we meet each night, there are no handshakes.. it's hugs and kisses all around. It feels so good to be held and fills you up with love.
Here's to (((((all of you))))) :-)

It has been quite a week. I've been to practice everyday and although I'm supposed to
sit down and rest when I'm tired.. I guess I'm a bit proud and just keep on going. I feel fine, although yesterday with 2 practices in one day, 1:30 to 4:30 and then 6:30 to 10:00, I felt pooped. We had this dance sequence to do and sing at the same time and we had to do it over, and over, and over and you guessed it, over again. I wish someone would have been here to rub my feet.. they felt like they might fall off. One consolation.. everyone was tired, so anemic or not, I didn't fare off worse than anyone else.

It still was a lot of fun. Today I have one more practice. It was supposed to be 2 like yesterday, but I think everyone has had a long week and the last rehearsal has been cancelled.

A few pics taken yesterday:

Matthieu just waiting for rehearsals to start:


Here is a picture from ActIII, Philippe, who plays Captain Proton is being held prisoner with the other video heros on Bob the terrible's Pirate ship:
As you can see.. the ship for the moment is only masking tape on the ground:


Here is Stéfane, the director and Bruno, the writer:


A well deserved break:
Cute side-story note. See the guy sitting on the stage edge in shorts? That's Luc. Notice his legs. He's a volunteer firefighter in his sparetime. When I first met him several years ago, I was at his house waiting for Danielle, his wife, when he got home from a fire. He was as he is today in shorts. He had some soot on his legs and was going to take a shower. I looked at his legs and saw how he had no hair at all.. and came to the conclusion that they were singed off. They thought that was rather funny. Seems he just doesn't have hair on his legs at all!


Eve: To pronounce it in French you must say it as if you were saying Every but cut off the ERY and you will have it perfectly. She's 18, a violinist and so pretty:



Philippe explaining about sound resonance to Cynthia:


Marcel plays the robot.. Here you can see him adding oil to his joints:


Well, that's it for now.. I should have a shower and breakfast! Hope you enjoy the pictures.. I know they aren't very fancy.. no costumes, no decors and mostly off-scene.. but I still felt like sharing.

practice

I thought I'd show you some pics I took during our rehearsals. I'm pretty tired after these 3 rehearsals... so I won't go into great detail.. but thought you might enjoy these.

To put this in context a bit.. the people you see here are characters in a video game. These are from a hero/quest type game.
This scene with the bard, the sire, the magician and the charming thief as they are all scrunched together as they hear a noise.. the noise is the very loud snoring of a messenger that has fallen asleep in the woods.



Here you see a bit of relaxing during our break:



From a different time frame.. here is the hero of a video game from the future. You see here Captain Proton.. and the bald headed robot and the Narrator.. she calculates the points that Captain Proton has made and how many monsters he has beaten etc.,



Here you see Captain Proton and the robot.. preparing to save the planet and the citizens of the future.



Advancing and still surveying for monsters and enemies.



Captain Proton with his Pretty Lieutenant.. she obviously thinks he's pretty "hawt" and he thinks so too.. :-D :


and Stéfane St-Jean, our director:


that's all for tonight.. I need some sleep. I'll post more pics this week.

no place to go but up

Last time I posted I talked about how I wasn't going to let myself be hurt anymore. How I was going to be strong and happy. I had wasted 2 months torturing myself. I was ready to get on with it and be happy and get back in shape and feel good. What I hadn't realized was that the last 2 months had actually taken a much worse toll on me than I ever had realized.

About 2 weeks ago, I decided I'm not going to let this happen to me anymore, I'm going out every night and take a walk and try to get back into shape. I was never an athlete but I was used to going up and down 4 flights of stairs a few times an evening and then sing for 2 hours without a problem but I was feeling so tired and figured not going out for 2 months had me pretty out of shape and a bit of walking and I would be up to par again.

The first night I went out I was glad it was dark out as I was ashamed to tell anyone that I had to stop 5 times to take my breath because I couldn't go any farther. I was like I couldn't open my ribcage. I was shocked but thought, well, tomorrow it will be better and reasoned everything with how tired I was and how much lack of sleep I had this summer etc.,

I went out for several nights.. each night it was the same thing. Once I actually got it done in 4 but then the next night I was back to where I started. I cried ... right there at the bottom of the hill.. in the dark where nobody could see me. What was happening? I really needed rest.

I slept a bit more and even took a nap in the day time thinking i'm just really overtired. I kept telling myself.. give yourself a little time, doesn't take long to go downhill but slowly and surely I would get better and be ok. I really tried to have a positive attitude. Then on Monday and Tuesday I just felt very drained. I just went from one room to the next and found my heart was pounding. On Wednesday night, I was trying to relax and watch a movie but my heart was pounding like it wanted to leap right out of my chest and my throat. My left arm started to feel paralyzed.. what the heck was happening. I got really scared and went to the hospital. I thought for sure I was having a heart attack.

When I got to the hospital they took an ECG and then the doctor listened to me heart. He asked about the last time I had seen a doctor and I told him in the spring and he was very upset and said you have a huge heart murmur and they nobody has done anything about it.. He was starting to get angry because apparently it was pretty bad. He kept listening to it and making me squeeze my fists together.. or push to make a hard stomach. He told me they would be keeping me over night with the monitors and first thing in the morning I would be seeing a cardiologist.

Well, 20 minutes later he was back because he had just received my blood tests. Apparently I was running low on juice. I only had 40% of the blood in my body that I should have. Meaning I had 60% of the blood in my body that I had lost. My heart was going nuts because it was acting like a pump that didn't have enough liquid. have a Within the hour and for the next 12 I received a blood transfusion. 4 units of blood.. or 2 quarts approx. A normal body has about 5. I was running on 2.

When the blood tranfusion was over, I then had to have tests to see where I was bleeding from. They give you something very disgusting to drink to flush out your plumbing. It's not quite drano but not sure it tastes any better.

They then scheduled me for a colonoscopy and a endoscopy. One after the other.
Both of these entail entering your body with cameras and doing a strip search. They started with the colonoscopy. I've told other this because I found it funny.. You get to watch on a monitor. You at first see the operating room and then oops.. the camera turns around and there you see a nice round butt.. and I couldn't help thinking.. hey.. that's me.. We never really get to see the view back there.. :-D
Anyways.. seems the plumbing is just fine.. it's as if the pipes were installed yesterday. Even the doc seemed impressed. As lovely as they are .. we'll leave them on the inside and not show photos here. ;-)

Then it was on to the endoscopy. Oh.. it's really rough getting a tube jammed down your throat. My gagging reflex was in full force and it was horrible. It did go down the second time around and it only took him a few seconds to see what was going on. I had bled from my stomach probably for a couple of months. Not aggressive bleeding. Very slow and minimal but continually. Somehow all the stress and angst and torture I put myself through.. I had irritated my stomach walls to the point of them slowly bleeding. We are not talking huge drops here.. and that's why I never knew. My stomach was all up in knots and sore but I thought it was my nerves and my anguish and it was but it had actually physically hurt me.

My husband left me and what little self-esteem I had left I stomped on and tortured myself to the point of almost dying. When I finally decided to take care of myself and get back in shape it was already much too late. My body was already in distress and just couldn't take it.. it was too much exertion. I'm lucky to be alive.

What a wake up call... When you hit rock bottom, there is no place to go
but up and that's my intention.


Although I now am at about 80% ... it feels amazing.. better than I've felt in 2 months. I still have to be careful though because I'm still anemic but slowly and surely I should get better.

My rehearsals started back on Saturday, but I was still in the hospital. There were 2 practices on Saturday and 2 on Sunday. I'll go for the first time tonight. I'll do my best and when I get tired, I'll take a little rest. It's going to be good to get back to doing something I love with people I really enjoy. From what I hear so far, they are having a blast, so hopefully my new posts in the future will be of more joyful and fun things in my life.

Last Wednesday, I started a drawing for an illo contest I wanted to enter called "Survival". Unfortunately, I hadn't had time to finish it and when I got home the submit was already over. So.. I'll show it to you here. The iris is the flower of Quebec... I used it to represent me. Although I have felt strangled and very hurt, and it's been a huge struggle, I will get through this.

an update

Yes, it's been awhile since the last update. There have been days that I feel like I've taken two steps forward and then other's where I take one step back. All in all, what is important, I guess, is that I'm progressing, slowly but surely. I guess I was hoping that it would just progress, but surely the back and forth is what makes us human.

When I look back over the last 2 months, I see how hurt I've been. When something like this happens, it's like the other person has died, leaving you alone but then he's not dead and he's out there happy and has basically dumped you.

In the beginning I really felt like I must be a terrible person for him to not want me anymore and although I do have occasional instances when I still feel this way, most of the time I see thing differently.

I've learned it is not really about me. It's about him. How he feels about himself, how he needs something extra to make him feel like a man. He's grown a beard and let his hair grow. He doesn't even look like himself anymore.

I've realized that he is quite detached from his feelings and anyone else's feelings as a matter of fact. Everytime I see him it's because he wants something else. Needs something he has left behind. 3 times now, he has come with her in the car. Last time I told him to have a little respect and not bring her here.. that I'm not ready for that. He doesn't understand that it's painful for me to see my replacement sitting in our car in front of my house. He just answered.. "Bien, voyons- donc"! as if to say "Oh, com'on now.. be reasonable".

Reasonable? I'd been more than reasonable during all our marriage. I look back and see how much I bent over backwards trying to make him happy. If someone was making consessions, it was always me. He liked his clothes folded a certain way, sure.. I'll fold them like your mommy folded them! He liked things set up a certain way, no problem.. I'll do it your way.

I'm not much of a nag and didn't like to plead to get something done. If I could do it myself I would. He worked hard and I thought he deserved a break when he got home. I only worked part-time and had time to do extra things.

He never really liked to talk about his feelings.. or even knew how to express how he felt. I tried many times, it would always end up with him leaving the room and not wanting to discuss anything. Whenever we watched a movie that would have scenes where something that would happen would affect you emotionally.. and may even make you cry, he would start with the jokes. He never cried, I have not seen him cry once. I asked him once what would he cry for, and he answered me that he would cry when I died.. hmphf... well, not anymore I guess.

We had problems in the bedroom. He didn't have stamina and didn't want to talk about it much less seek help. We lived together before getting married and even though he was not a great lover, I didn't really have much experience and thought we would both learn and get better with time. In the very beginning, when we first got married, I thought maybe he was gay. When I asked him he was furious. He was tired and that was that.. and why did I need that much affection anyways? I was hurt but then thought .. geez, if I were married to a man and he had an accident or something, would I just leave him? no.. I learned to compromise. I gave him what he wanted, when he wanted it and held back when he needed me to and tried not to let him feel less of a man.

There is a French expression: "Jamais mieux servi que par soi-même!". It means never better served than by yourself. When I needed to I satisfied myself. It didn't replace the loving and touching from another human. I lacked that, I still lack that.

All through our marriage, I was always faithful, even though I had met great guys that were kind and caring and were interested in me. I never once turned.

I had always done things with my hands. I like creating things. Since the last 7-8 years though, I started going out and doing things that made me happy. I started singing with other people both modern and classcial music. I had no training but I enjoyed it. When I first started, I remember being very timid. I sat in front all quiet, all by myself and hardly even moved the air.

Slowly I tried to be more confident. I wanted the world to see the person I was inside. I was caring and funny and enjoyed people. I was quirky and loved art and creating art. I would push myself to be not afraid. To get up and speak in front of a crowd. I remember the very first time. We were doing a production and we were wearing some type of peasant clothes.. and they wanted us to wrap material around our waist several times. It was awful, cumbersome and uncomfortable.. most of all, the girls hated it. I hated it, it made us look like we were all expecting twins within the week.

At our "couturière", we had to go onstage while the director and the conceptor of the costumes watched us while we paraded back and forth beneath the lights on stage. Several of the girls had already passed and not a word was said. When I got on stage.. there was a glaring light in my eyes and they said, so .. like it? I remember feeling my heart pump in my chest and the feeling of being extremely nervous and I answered them telling how I didn't like it and thought it was not a good idea since we would be under such hot lights for more than 2 hours. They looked at each other and had the tiniest of conferences and said, you know, you are right! .. and we didn't have to wear them. I was so proud of myself. I hadn't put anyone down, but got my point across. I grew that day.

And I kept growing. I tried to do things that allowed me to become a strong person.

More and more I wanted to be myself and not have to walk on eggshells to make Syvlain happy. I wouldn't be mean but I stood up for myself. I think this bothered him. I was no longer subordinate.

This pains me to say but I guess it will put my point across. Often at night he would be too tired. In the mornings he was not too tired, but in a hurry. Of course, that meant he wanted to take care of himself and not have to care about me. He had started to would just rub himself on me and that was enough. It was enough for him, he wasn't overstimulated and it was fast. I hated it .. it made me softly cry when he left the room. I felt like a piece of meat. I remember late last fall, I finally said, no.. stop it! I don't want to be touched that way, I'm here too you know.

So, I guess I pretty much let him walk all over me. When I met him I was extremely shy and didn't have a lot of confidence in myself. So, if I have blame to take in this marriage, that is it. I let him have his way, and I spoiled him and pretty much gave him whatever he wanted but then I started to want more. I started to want to not be happy just for him, but be happy for me.

I had stuffed my feelings for so long.. that I was sometimes overwhelmed when I finally started to let myself feel again. I look back in this blog and smile to read how explain how I had kept my feeling as if in a little jar .. protecting myself from being hurt. When I finally let them out, I didn't want to stuff them back in again. I had done that too many times, this time I wasn't going to push myself back into that unfeeling place anymore. I was scared, I was vulnerable but I also felt strong. What changed in our marriage? I changed, I became a strong person. He didn't change. He didn't want to change and didn't appreciate my standing up for myself.

He would always say that I was too sensitive... but I've learned that I'm still sensitive.. but that you can be sensitive and strong too.

I used to think that being he was strong. Strong because he didn't cry.. didn't connect with his feelings. Well.. he wasn't strong at all, he was to weak to face his feelings and still too weak. When he talks to me, it's like we were never together. He doesn't see the hurt at all.

How many things I felt bad about... I wasn't the typical wife. I didn't make the same salary that he did. I was worth less. In reality, that's not true. This house was mine before I met him. He lived here and didn't have to pay a mortgage. Our furniture, mine. The piano, mine. Our bedroom set, mine. I walk around and the walls are covered with my paintings. The bedcover, I made. The curtains, I made. The smells of food whafting through the air, I created. I picked the raspberries for homemade pie. So..yes, he put up money to heat the house and made sure we had food on the table, but I also did my part. I also contributed to bills, to household items, fluffy towels, good sheets.. xmas gifts and any luxuries.I made our house a home. So I have nothing to feel guilty about. I may have made less money, but I did do my part.

I remember the first few days he left.. I walked around and cried.. his shoes were gone, his jacket was gone, personal effects. Then for almost 2 months I didn't sleep in my bed. I couldn't. It has only been a week now that I've slept in it. I've opened his empty drawers and put some of my clothes in them. It's a taking back of my space. It's a taking back of my air, trying to let myself feel like I still belong here.

Some small things have been liberating. The other night I sat at the piano. I am not a good piano player, but I enjoy it. It was past midnight and i started to play and just let myself be immersed.. and then I thought how free that felt. To be able to do something the moment you wanted without having to wonder if I was encroaching on someone's else space.

Many people have come to my aid. Most of them, people on line. Some just ask if I'm alright and check up on me. Some have offered their own stories and encourage me to
be brave and be happy. One person in particular actually tells me that I'm pretty terrific and makes me feel like I'm special. I allow these words to touch me .. to rock me and comfort me. They allow me to be brave, to be strong and to see goodness in the future, to believe that I'll be alright and perhaps one day be even better than I ever was.