'One of us had to die': A Hardass Love story

Editor's note: This guest column contains content that some readers may find disturbing.

It was either the company or myself, but one of us had to die. I could not consciously live in two prisons at the same time, especially with what I just found.

As some of you know, my former company, Kasteel Construction and Coatings Inc. (KCC) is dead. I chose to file for insolvency Oct. 17, 2023, shortly after our Northern wildfire evacuations. I hurt many people in many ways with this decision.

As some of you may know through 2022 and 2023, I personally experienced significant successive unexpected traumatic triggers; several present-day brutal events eliciting devastating reactions from my past events.

And as some of you may also know, starting from the age of 13 in Yellowknife, I was sexually molested and psychologically hunted for years by a close trusted family friend. This started after lung cancer killed my 44-year-old father. This family friend was a friend and leader in our community church and a local health leader. He was a second dad to me.

This ‘man’ toyed with me at his leisure. His caring and comforting actions changing significantly when no one else was around. His hidden cat-and-mouse game an invisible trap. Things went very dark very quickly thanks to this devil cleverly disguised as an angel.

He molested my mind. He raped my soul.

He was so powerful in so many ways. I trusted him. He was he, so how could this be wrong even though it eventually started feeling wrong?

I was just a kid who just lost his dad, his hero, his protector. I was just a kid looking for love, security, a hug. Instead, this man’s hugs led to unzipping my pants.

Understand this: the molestation of the body versus the molestation of the mind and of the soul are two very, very different things. A fractured bone rather than a fractured mind/heart/soul is a simplicity I could only wish for. I suffer silently with something you cannot X-ray while others walk around acknowledging and signing someone’s arm or leg cast with no discomfort at all. And I’m the messed up one?

I will not live a fake life. I will not fake anything for this is what he taught me. When aware, I will exterminate his evil traits whilst carefully extracting whatever constructive lessons and tools I can from it.

Bitterness and hatred are known cheap enemies. Love, accountability, and fun are my powerful friends.

So, as I continue slogging along a path to heal and to being healthy, what does that even mean? In looking up the American Psychological Association (APA) definition of health, I found this: 'The condition of one’s mind, body, and spirit, the idea being freedom from illness, injury, pain, and distress.'

And trauma? The APA definition: '... any disturbing experience that results in significant fear, helplessness, dissociation, confusion, or other disruptive feelings intense enough to have long lasting negative effect on a person’s attitudes, behaviour, and other aspects of functioning. Traumatic events often challenge an individual’s view of the world as a just, safe and predictable place.'

Yes, I am a mess. And yes, I am screwed up.

I was always personally or professionally exhausting myself to help others, yet I starved. I sentenced myself to this because I was unworthy of food. This, another destructive subconscious teaching from him. Another sadistic blind conditioning.

‘My soul is exhausted.’

The feverish first words uttered to my assigned psychiatrist during a stay at a psychiatric ward in hospital in Alberta from Sept. 2 to 28, 2023. I asked for help after fighting with suicidal thoughts again. These thoughts caused by massive and repetitive subconscious triggers. My nervous system was stuck in heightened mode from ‘him,’ and with massive triggers added on, all this and more caused me to subconsciously shift into higher and higher and faster and faster gears.

I couldn’t see myself, yet I could somewhat. More inner conflict and confusion. The full health and trauma definitions thrown in a blender on high speed. That’s me, plus a hell of a lot more.

As I discover more of me, I grieve more of me. I then process more of me. Silent suffering: a lifelong master’s degree unto its own.

Blame is a sickness and a complete waste. Negativity kills. This stuff is his evil.

So, in this New Year when things may look bleak at times, I humbly offer this:

• It all starts with you
• You are worth it, you matter
• Slow things down to see, shut the mouth/fingers to hear
• Power is inside, just park the ego to access it
• Be gentle with you, yet kick yourself in the butt when required
• Change hurts, it’s uncomfortable. That’s what growth is
• Stay true to your instincts and your inner compass, no matter how hard
• Baby steps are still steps, but still progress
• Simplify. Calm things where you can
• Wisdom is waiting in the quiet

“Trevor, you’re no good to anyone dead.” Words from the psychiatrist at the hospital.

Get ready. More ‘Hardass Love’ writings are on the way. And Goliath better get out of the way, or he’s going down. Big time.

God bless you, everyone, and happy New Year!