(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)
Shortly after my birthday, I went up to the fridge to get a piece of my birthday cake. I took a healthy piece because I wasn’t planning on getting another one. When I entered Rosie’s bedroom, Rosie was standing by the doorway to the kitchenette. He looked at the piece of cake on my plate. Then he looked up at me with big eyes and an exacerbated expression of “big enough for you?”. I looked at Rosie with an equally exacerbated expression and said, “what? It’s my cake isn’t it?”. Rosie smiled and walked away from me.
I sat on the bed and ate my cake all up. I enjoyed every bite of it. At the same time I was thinking about Rosie’s words to me. “You need to eat. You need to put on weight”. I also took note that he was subliminally shaming me. I caught myself thinking, “damned if I do. Damned if I don’t”. I felt that way with my mum too.
Thinking those thoughts brought me back to the last words my mother said to me. We were all at Liv’s celebrating my youngest granddaughter’s first birthday. “You’re too skinny Clair. You look sickly”. My response to my mum was, “yes, I am aware, and yes, I am sick at the moment”. I weighed about one hundred and twenty pounds, at five feet nine inches tall. A healthy weight for my height would be approximately one hundred and forty-five pounds.
After my mum commented in front of all Liv’s guests, I went back downstairs away from my mum and dad. During the rest of the party, neither of my parents spoke to me. When they left they hugged each person, except me. My dad didn’t say two words the entire time he was there. He just sat against the wall on a chair and remained withdrawn from everyone and everything.
Unfortunately, I have trained myself to eat one meal a day. When Albert left the girls and I back in May, 1999, I ate my babies’ left overs. I rarely cooked myself a meal. My eating habits remained that way for several months. I went from weighing over hundred and sixty pounds down to one hundred and fifteen pounds. Since I was accustomed to eating small portions, anytime I felt stressed, I became nauseated. Some people binge eat when stressed. I tend to starve myself due to a lack of appetite.
The reason I was so slim was because the COVID relief fund expired and I didn’t have two pennies to rub together. The doctors I was seeing about my muscle issue hadn’t solved the problem. To this day, I am still fighting to figure out the cramping issue.
Right when COVID hit, I was working for an elementary school as a teacher’s aid. At that time I was either bussing or walking several miles to get to work. I would then be on my feet most of the day with four year olds. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays, I cleaned a commercial building. I over worked my legs. I kept ignoring my body’s signals. Money was a top priority for me. I had to prove I was not a burden and that I could contribute financially to the household.
One day whilst at school, I went to an empty classroom to start getting snack time ready for the kids. As I went to place a dish on the counter, I felt an excruciating electric shock in my right calf. As soon as I felt the electric shock my leg convulsed, causing me to fall down to the floor. Thank goodness there were no kids around to see it.
After that incident I was taken to the hospital. I stayed in the hospital for about a week. I was allowed to leave the hospital in time for Christmas Eve if I agreed to use a walker for extra support. Reason being, I was still experiencing electric shocks around a small numbed area of my leg. The numbed spot was about the size of a golf ball. When I placed my foot down to walk, my leg shook from the shocks. I described it as, “my leg feels like it is crackling inside”. Rosie was in Montreal at this time. This incident occurred in December of 2020.
After the new year I went back to the school with an expectation that I would work. My boss came over to me about thirty minutes into my shift and said, “Clair, unfortunately you cannot be here without a return to work release form. As it stands right now, you are a liability. We require your doctor’s approval before you can work”. With that I left the school.
Since I collapsed at the school after COVID became recognized, and I needed a specialist to give me a release form to work, I collected COVID relief. With that money I helped pay for mine and Liv’s monthly bills, and sent money to Rosie to help with his. I bought myself my glasses after cataract surgery. As well as some make-up for Liv and I. That’s all I used the money for. Today, the government states that I must pay all the COVID relief money back. It’s a bit of a mess and not a mess I am currently working on solving.
I didn’t explain any of those circumstances to my mother. I learned that there is no point explaining something to someone when they have a deaf ear turned towards you. I kept my stresses to myself. I am still very much of the same mind. I tend to keep my stresses to myself. You would only see my stress through my body mass. Rosie knew this and yet, he still made it clear he was not physically attracted to me. It stung every time I heard Rosie comment on my body size. He didn’t do it often. When he did, his words shot like a dart right at my heart.
After I expressed my discomfort enough about having to go upstairs to get items from the cupboard or the fridge, Rosie started to put things in the fridge downstairs. I was extremely appreciative of this. I was able to stay clear of Rosie’s mum more often.
Rosie’s mum would complain to Rosie that I was not making enough of an effort bonding with her. She wanted me to learn how to cook Hatian food. She also wanted me to work with her in the garden. I know she wanted me to. I found it challenging to be in her energy for long periods. I also admire gardens. I don’t have an interest in growing them though.
Rosie’s mum was alone often. She wanted me to be her surrogate partner. Just as she wanted Rosie to be. Since she suffered from a sense of rejection, she took my disinterest in what she was doing as disrespectful and lazy. Since I was not bringing in any money, what good am I other than an interloafer? Rosie didn’t tell me that. I knew without knowing.
What Rosie and his mum failed to recognize was the fact that I cleaned the house every Sunday when they were at church. When I wasn’t cleaning for them, I was painting Alyssa’s new room, or Jean’s room. I also helped to sand down a dining room set Rosie bought off of Market Place. If I wasn’t doing that, I was taking the kids to the pool or walking Kody. Since Rosie’s mum didn’t do any of those things, she felt I was treating her poorly.
Remember, my mum used to complain that my dad did very little with her. Rosie’s mum was a single woman all of Rosie’s forty-odd years of his life. Rosie was also her only child. She was lonely. Therefore I wasn’t seen for me. I was being seen as someone ungrateful who didn’t put in enough attentive effort. Thank goodness I didn’t see myself like that.
It’s amazing how our own projections paint a picture of someone superimposed over top of the person’s true character. Rosie’s mum saw me as yet another person who was using her for her resources, not a person who was doing her best to fit into the family unit.
I knew Rosie’s mum didn’t like me. She also made certain her community knew. She made it painfully obvious during Alyssa’s eleventh birthday in June, 2024.
LivWithClairity 
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