To My Family

Being sick for years has brought its toll on my family. My mother has been there for me since I got to Nova Scotia in a complete mess. She has spent more time and effort than anyone in taking care of me. Even in the hospital after the house fire, my mother still showed up, brought me things, and went to all my board hearings. She has mentioned numerous times that there isn't any support for looking after a mentally ill family member. Any time she's sad, I'm in pain from seeing it. After all these years, and still no breakthrough in my work, it's hard.
My father, on the other hand, has helped me remotely. He works a lot, gets paid well, so with some of his money he has always helped me with my projects. Also, clothing, food, and nicotine to help me quit smoking. The list goes on and on.
I have been disabled since I was 20 years old, and it's been a rough ride for a very long time now. Pulling through all of it took my parent's help, and my sisters tried to help along the road.
To my mother and father and my sisters, I can't express how much love I feel for all of you.
This comes when I've had to make many hard decisions. You won't all agree with what I'm writing about, but I need to do it; it's part of my calling. The writing could affect you, and I'm sorry, but I'm in a unique position to help people, and I'm designed to do it. I can't hold it back any longer; I'm revealing the darkness inside of me on my website and in my literature so that people have a road map for how to escape something I believe will be more painful if they don't escape their darkness.