My Life on the Road — Staying Still

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Best wishes with the coming months. Hoping that the coming trials and tribulations temper a steel that others can see in you, even when you do not.


Your line about “They watch me pour shit from our honey wagon in to mingle with their horse manure. I mouth a hello as I wander through their barn in a bathrobe, flip-flops and when ever possible, a profanity-laced T-shirt.” makes me think you are the Canadian Cousin Eddie in ways most of us cannot possibly achieve.


All the best to you as you work hard on yourself, facing fears and personal tasks I can barely imagine.


I was moved by the candor of your article; the juxtaposition of the challenges between the internal vs the external world and how they’re related to place is something I appreciate. Be kind to yourself, and continue to share your words. Beyond income, I expect they offer some sort of catharsis. They help others too.


It must be a cruel conundrum: leave Canada for good and forego the health insurance you probably need for the physical health issues resulting from your mental health issues (not sure if therapy is covered); or stay and perhaps worsen those issues during the 6 months you’re in Alberta.

Stay well, and take what joy you can from nature and from your partner’s pleasure in returning to her community (which, as you say, is yours, too). Whatever you decide to do, give yourself some credit for being less prone to make the kind of poor choices you did when you were younger.


Wishing you the best moments, from fractions of a second to decades and more, in your peregrinations on this earth. Hang in there, buddy, you are an important presence to far more people than you could imagine. That you are here gives motivation and meaning to anyone you touch, in writing as well as in person. Me included.


“Down on the farm with a milk pail on my arm”


Thank you for sharing. Sending love. :two_hearts::two_hearts::two_hearts:


I’m rooting for you, @SeamusBellamy!

When I left therapy completely pissed off at my therapist, I knew it had been a good session. It sounds like you are making progress.


Yeah, this. Therapy is hard. Like re-breaking a bone in order to set it properly. But you know what? I suspect that the year of steady work will make it easier. And I hope you will keep posting these personal stories…I find them insightful, moving & funny.


I wish you all the best with your therapy, and with dealing with the way you seem to feel your life has become torn, bifurcated.
As an American who moved to Canada years ago (from Washington, DC, to Toronto to Ottawa), my experience has been radically different.

Leaving the US was hands down the best decision I ever made. I love the US, and remain a US citizen, but, man, after about 4 days down there I’m ready to return to civilization. The OP’s sense of feeling torn is well nigh incomprehensible to me, such is the gratitude I feel for being able to live in Canada—and for being able to raise my daughter here, as it really is a much nicer (and dramatically less wingnutty) country.

Living in Canada has taught me that there is much to love about the US, but that indulging this love is best done “from a safe distance.”


Nice to hear from you again, @SeamusBellamy. If you don’t mind a word on therapy, from someone who had it on-and-off for 20 years? With hindsight, those sessions that leave you feeling the worst, that you’ve dreaded the most, that you leave exhausted and tearful, feeling bruised and battered? They’re the ones that make the most difference, I found. YMMV. Anyway. All the best to you and the missus.


Your open sharing is moving and inspiring; I read your posts out loud to my partner and we both root for you.

Take it one day at a time. A day passes, a brand new day starts. It doesn’t have to brim with promise or other flowery bullshit, it just has to go its way. And you with it. When you look back, it will be a millisecond your brain will forget and forgive. :sunny:


Not sure I understand the resentment toward “the privileged”, the equestrian folks who are paying board that presumably keeps the lights on at this horse farm, and therefore making it possible for you to have a shower with good water pressure and a beautiful place to park for a bit.

FWIW, some people who ride are not affluent, and find ways to make the horse thing work because they find it incredibly therapeutic (and at least for those of us who don’t have that sweet, sweet Canadian healthcare, owning a horse can be cheaper than actual therapy).

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