This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. The first few months in Calgary were all about getting as many hours at work I possibly could in order to make my rent payments and bill payments. I enjoyed the job at the pub and was getting some great experience there. After work I would go home late at night, and sit on my sleeping bag on the floor that was on top of my clothes for extra padding. I had nothing in the apartment except what I brought in which was my duffel bag with my clothing, my alarm clock, my cassette player and music. It was an unfurnished apartment but I didn't care. I was happy to have a roof over my head that I could call my own. I began to grieve my mom's death at this time. Calgary is the city that both of my brothers committed suicide in. I walked by the place where my brother Rob hung himself in his apartment. I looked up at the building and all the windows, but I don't know which apartment he was in. I walked by the shelter where my brother Howard died of a drug overdose. This brings back some sad feeling I had for my brothers, but I just deal with it. I made a new friend working at the pub. She was a few years older than me and basically took me under her wing at work because she knew I was on my own in Calgary and did not know anyone. We hit it off and were beginning to enjoy our new friendship. But all the while, after work I would go home, plunk down on my sleeping bag on the floor, and grieve the loss of my mom. At this time, I had no idea the amount of emotional, psychological scarring my parents and brother had caused me. I realised that because my mom was gone, my inner child was screaming out in agony and grief because she knew that she was never going to get what she needed from her mother. She would never be held by her mother, she would never be loved by her mother. She would never hear the things she needed to hear from her mother. I realised that this small person was me from childhood, and I was grieving the loss of what I would never receive from my mother and there wasn't any other mother who could do this for me. I began to have flashbacks and nightmares about the abuse. I had very few nightmares about the abuse before my mom died. This was all a new nightmare. The abuse that I had tucked away neatly in the drawers was starting to boil, and an inner rage began to well up within me, and I knew that abuse would explode out of those drawers at some point. I just worked and continued to grieve and try to keep the abuse from spilling over the drawers during this year, and at the same time I began to realise that I truly loved Cecil and I thought about him the whole first year in Calgary.
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