Rene

In the summer of 1992, I met Rene. My friend, David, introduced us one night at 3 Cheers.. (a bar in Calgary) I really didn't like him when I first met him. I thought he talked too much which is funny because after getting to know him, he was actually pretty quiet. A couple weeks later, I saw him out again and got to talking with him and we exchanged numbers. We started spending alot of time together and I really liked him although, even then, I saw some red flags. I still lived with Darlene at this time and so the 3 of us would spend alot of time together. We mostly did alot of drinking and eating out..... so the weight slowly kept creeping up on me. I never weighed myself back then because what I didn't know, didn't hurt me and i preferred to live in denial. And besides, we were having way too much fun to worry about things like my health. Rene had a temper and if he got mad at you, he would go for days, or even weeks, without talking to you. He worked for his brother at the family travel agency when I first met him. One day his brother said something that Rene didn't like, so he walked out and didn't go back. I remember asking why he didn't just call his brother and talk about what happened but he said just to never mind, I didn't know what I was talking about so I stayed out of it. One night i was at his apartment and I was going to spend the night, and i made a comment about how cute his freckles were, and that they were even on his lips. (he had freckles on his face and arms and i thought they were so cute) He immediately pushed me away, got up off the couch, pointed to the door and told me to "Get the hell out"! I was shocked and confused and asked him what was wrong but he wouldn't answer me. He locked himself in his room and wouldn't speak to  me. After about 20 minutes of trying to get him to talk to me, i gave up, got my stuff, and drove back home. I was so embarrassed showing up at home, and i didn't want Darlene to think bad things about him so i tried to make something up but she didn't believe me. Things like this were starting to happen more often than not and Darlene was getting fed up with it. I always made excuses for him... he was stressed cause he wasn't working, he wasn't getting along with his brother, etc etc.... I think I knew deep down that those were simply that.. excuses... but because i was so insecure and lets face it, used to verbal abuse, i just accepted it all. I really didn't know any better. 

We were together for about 3-4 months when he moved in with Darlene and I. I'm not sure how much longer after that, we decided to move away from Calgary. We couldn't seem to get away from the partying lifestyle living there, so we thought BC would be a nice change for us. The hardest thing I ever did was move away from Darlene. She was the only person that really understood me and I knew it was going to be sad without her. Rene told his Mom that we were moving away and she was sad but I think she was happy that maybe he was going to get away from all the drinking and make a new start at his life. We thought that we would move to Whistler.(Rene loved to ski and I loved BC so we thought that would be a good choice.) We stopped in Vernon to visit my Nana and spend some time with my longtime friend, Michelle and she convinced us to stay. We stayed with Michelle for a short time while we looked for a place of our own. We found a basement suite and moved in shortly after. I think we were there for about 5 months, when I came home one day to an eviction notice on our door. The landlord, who lived up stairs, had written that she was tired of our fighting and thought it was time we found somewhere else to live. It was true.... we did fight alot.... I dont think the alcohol helped matters much either so things always would escalate worse than they really should have. We moved to an apartment across town and nothing really changed. I think I was addicted to the whole process...... We would get along really well, then I would say or do something to upset him, he would get mad and either not speak to me for days or let me know how bad of a girlfriend I was, how I didnt understand him, how I would never find anyone that loved me like he did, the fight would escalate, I would apologize and things would be good again... for a short time. I remember one night having the police coming to our door and me having to call a friend in the middle of the night to come get me. We ended up buying a house and got married in 1998. Now dont get me wrong, I loved him very much and I know that he loved me. He had some demons of his own that he didnt know how to deal with and he didnt like to talk about things so they just remained bottled up inside. 

We ate out alot because Rene was a very picky eater, and lets face it, I wasn't a very good cook. The things I did know how to cook, he didn't like to eat. One night i thought i would surprise him with dinner and made pork chops with mushroom soup on top with some rice. He came home from work, i served him his dinner, he took 1 bite, spit it back out on the plate and said it tasted like puke. I was so hurt and i got mad at him, so he threw his plate with his food still on it, across the kitchen and then told me to clean up his mess as he walked back out the door and drove away. I was heartbroken. If only I could just do things right and not keep screwing everything up. 

In November of 1998, we gave birth to our daughter Taylor,. She was so beautiful and perfect. All I wanted to do was be a good Mom and not repeat past mistakes from my childhood. Obviously, being pregnant, I wasn't drinking, and that continued on after Taylor was born. I had alot of anxiety because i was trying so hard to be a good Mom. I think Taylor sensed that from me, and so she was a very fussy baby. I got a bit depressed after she was born and i felt so down all the time. She had her days and nights mixed up so i was up alot at night and then would try to sleep in the day but I felt like i needed to get things done at home while Rene was at work, so I didn't get much sleep in those first few months. At that point, my weight was at an all time high. It was a cold winter that year, and so I used the cold as an excuse to stay inside and not go for walks with Taylor in her stroller. I would crave McDonald's and I would go thru the drive thru at least twice a week and go back home to eat it where no one would see me. If people didn't see me eat it, then it must not have happened, right? 

Rene and I continued to have our ups and downs... another visit from the police to our house, a few nights staying at a friends house, but we always seemed to make it thru. One of the turning points for me was when Taylor was 6 months old and Rene had gone out one night to play pool with the boys and came home at 6am the next morning. I was sitting on the couch feeding Taylor and I didn't say much. I could tell he was still feeling the effects of the night before so i didn't want to start a fight right then. He was in the mood to fight though so he kept asking me what my problem was and wouldn't let it go. I explained that I had been up most of the night worried sick about where he was (remember, cell phones weren't really a necessity at this time)  and that I had no way to get in touch with him to make sure he was ok, nor did I know who he was with. He got mad and called me some profanities but i refused to give in this time and join the fight, especially because I had Taylor in my arms. He continued on and walked into the kitchen to walk out the door and I remember telling him to "kiss my ass"..... From the kitchen, I heard him chuckle and say...." I dont really have that kind of time, considering the size of your ass." I was heartbroken and hurt. I placed Taylor gently into her baby swing, strapped her in, walked into the kitchen, and punched him right in the face. I don't know what came over me..... All the years of my Dad (whom I loved so much) telling me how bad I was, fat I was, a failure I was.... and then to have my husband (who I also loved so much) basically say the same things to me... I just blacked out! We went to counselling shortly after that and it really seemed to help. Not only did we deal with our marriage problems, but I was able to go by myself and talk about alot of my childhood issues that I carried with me into our marriage. Rene was adopted and so he had some issues of his own that he was dealing with and he was really doing great at working on those.

(Now please dont get me wrong.... It wasn't all bad. We had alot of fun together and he loved Taylor with all his heart and was so good with her. I loved him with all my heart and thought we would be together forever. His family was so loving and kind to me, and they still are. This, of course, is only part of the story and I can only write so much at a time. As I write this blog, my mind seems to jump from event to event in no certain sequence and so please forgive me if it all seems so negative to start out.... Everything that has happened in my life has shaped me into the person that I am today and so I am grateful for every moment in my life... Good and bad. )

I will never forget that day in August of 2002. We had decided to paint our house blue. We spent alot of time on Kal lake on our boat (a 1971 boat, none the less, but we enjoyed every minute of it... when it would start, that is.. LOL) There is a house on the lake that was painted a dark blue with cream trim and I absolutely loved it, so one day Rene informed me that even though we didnt have a house on the lake, he was going to paint our house to match the one that I loved so much. The house was painted and he was working on the trim. He was in the driveway and I was standing there with him and we were having the best talk. (I wish I could remember what we were talking about now)... All of a sudden he started babbling and not making any sense. I thought he was being funny, so i laughed and asked him what he was saying. He stumbled towards me with a look of fear on his face and I asked him if he was ok. He wasnt mumbling anymore but i noticed the left side of his face was a bit droopy and he was drooling a tiny bit. As he walked up the back stairs to go into the kitchen, i asked him if he was ok. He looked at me and said.... "call the ambulance."