About

My name is Alice. It’s not the name my mother gave me, but she never knew the first thing about me anyway. 

I was born in 1984, at the Jewish hospital of Montreal, but I grew up on the south shore. My father was a boring stereotype : white, intolerant, alcoholic boomer. My mother is one of the rarest birds I’ve met, I only met one other person who shared an archetype with her, she’s a covert-narcissist. On the outside, you’d think she’s perfect; you could eat off her floors, she never says a bad thing about anyone, never swears… but she believes herself to have a higher consciousness level which allows her to know the absolute truth. I have been the victim of incredible psychological violence in the form of narcissism induced invalidation, all the while she victimized herself of my existence and painted me as the evil child she didn’t deserve.

I don’t have any memories of feeling wanted. I think maybe my mother likes babies, but the minute we started talking and walking we were treated like burdens.

As far as I can remember, I was always different. One memory comes to mind as a good example: in the first week of kindergarten, the teacher came to see me as I was playing alone in a corner and asked why I was playing alone, I said “no one wants to play with me” to which she replied “have you asked”? Already, at the tender age of 5, I had the unlovability wound. I did not feel like I had any worth or like anyone wanted me around. My upbringing would only further this sentiment. 

When I was in grade school, I spent a lot of time alone, or going from click to click, never belonging anywhere. 

At 13 years old I pulled a kitchen knife in front of a girl who had been spreading rumors about me in high school. I spent a year in Juvie. If I didn’t already didn’t feel like I belong before, it was even worse among these “cool kids”. I was just a fucking weirdo. 

This was the year I turned goth. It was all downhill from there style-wise.

When I was 16 I got pregnant. My pro-life mother convinced me to keep the baby on the account that she would always be there to help. When my son was 8 years old, she moved to another continent.. 

A few years later, I alienated my violent father who just grew more bitter, alcoholic and aggressive with age. 

I started a pole dancing school in 2007 which I ran and owned until December 2016. It did really well, but a life of unmanaged mental disorders left me with more CPTSD than a single mind can handle and I quit in 2017. I gave away my studio, complete with over 10 000$ worth of equipment to a friend because I thought I was going to kill myself. 

She never said thanks and never gave me a dime. 

I struggle with violent mood swings which makes life impossible for me to schedule. I also experience anhedonia and chronic fatigue, which results in chronic depression. 

To this day, I still experience suicidal ideation. It seems to be, for me, some sort of coping mechanism that makes me feel safe, as if my brain was saying “it’s ok, if things get too bad, we can just kill ourselves”. 

I would define myself as hyper-sensitive; the mere act of reading an upsetting article or even a comment will have my heartbeat rising uncontrollably. I used to call my emotions a monster eater of worlds.

During the years 2010 to 2020, I was hospitalized for suicide attempts four times, I checked myself in for major depression 6 additional times and I spent two extended stays in psychiatric emergency centers.

I have had several diagnoses in my life, but I don’t find it interesting to talk about them. Many people, diagnosed or not, experience one or many of the symptoms I experience. I want this blog to help everyone who can relate. 

The purpose of this blog is to heal my shame. To present myself as I am, with brutal honesty, in a world that has told me my entire life that who I am is wrong, and to inspire others to also heal their shame, to know that we are not alone in our pain and it is ok to be different.

If you or a loved one, experience a deep sense of shame at not being able to become the person you want to be, not being able to do the things you want to do;
If you or a loved one is stuck on their phones or in front of the TV incapable of peeling yourself from the couch;
If you or a loved one experiences chronic depression;
If you or a loved one has a hard time experiencing joy;
If you or a loved one feels like an alien that doesn’t belong here… 
Or if you would like to increase your understanding of these topics;

This blog is for you.