4 Months To Go

Well, it’s four months to go until I see my nurse practitioner to engage the path for Medical Assitance in Dying.

The sense of calm that I have enjoyed since I first decided to avail myself to M.A.i.D. grows day by day.

It’s like the feeling you get when you’re doing a double shift at work and you’re dead tired and your bones ache and you can’t wait to get home and go to bed. You know it will all be over soon.

That’s the way it is with me.

My end is coming soon.

My end will be peaceful.

No trauma, no terror.

Again, it’s four months until my application, not four months until the proceedure.

At this point in time I have no idea of when I will be able to undergo the proceedure.

According to my lawyer, the Department of Justice is close to offering up a settlement.

My fear is that Captain McRae’s teenaged accomplice will be the only one to get any form of compensation.

I can see the DOJ arguing that it can only offer compensation to the victims of Captain McRae and not the victims of Captain McRae’s teenaged accomplice.

In 1980, contrary to the evidence on hand, Base Commander Colonel Daniel Edward Munro only forwarded the charges related to the babysitter to the court martial court. All other charges against Captain McRae were dropped.

Remember that this was in 1980. There was no military prosecutor to review the charges. The Provincial Crown wasn’t consulted. It was the commanding officer of the accused that reviewed the charges. McRae’s commanding officer was base commander Colonel Daniel Edward Munro.

No one will ever know if the investigation was interferred with back in 1980.

This was one of the concerns with the Somalia Inquiry, that the chain of command could exert influence over military police investigations due to the rank hierarchy in the military and the legal requirement for military personal to obey the lawful commands of their superiors. This is what led to significant changes to the National Defence Act in 1998 with the passing of Bill C-25 “An Act to Ammend the National Defence Act”.

Also, it was a chain of command decision in 1980 to not call the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in to deal with the babysitter thereby forever fucking the victims of both pedophiles.

Apparently the DOJ is working towards payments based on a table that was used for the Indian Residential School Settlements.

The problem with this is that it’s based upon a $10,000.00 payment for every child that went to Residential School. To claim more you had to provide verified proof that other events occured at school.

When I made my complaint to the Edmonton Police Service in 2011, it was kicked over to the CFNIS. The CFNIS even admitted in their paperwork that in 1980 this matter was the jurisdiction of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police as it was civilian on civilian.

The fact that the CFNIS had in their possession the CFSIU investigation paperwork from 1980 and the courts martial transcripts from 1980 would seem to indicate that I am not the first person to come forward with complaints against the babysitter.

This operation to gaslight me was far too smooth.

If it wasn’t for Master Corporal Christian Cyr telling me very specific information and asking me very specific questions, both of which only existed in CFSIU DS 120-10-80, I would never have had any proof.

If I was a gambling man I’d say that the CFNIS has investigated complaints against Captain McRae and the babysitter numerous time since 1998.

But with the legal inability to ever charge Angus McRae for crimes against children that occured prior to 1998 due to the three year time bar in the National Defence Act, the CFNIS, the Canadian Forces Military Police Group, and the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal more than likely have a well oiled script for dealing with these complaints that always, and without exception, just don’t have enough evidence to lay charges.

Sorry, better luck next time.

The CFNIS ran a very, very smooth gaslighting operation from the word go.

The goal of the investigation was to try to convince me that (a) the abuse never occured, (b) the abuse was very minor and trivial, (c) I was lying about the abuse.

When interviewing one of the other victims of the babysitter, the CFNIS asked this victim if he would agree that “Bobbie was a societal malcontent with an axe to grind against the military”.

So, what does this have to do with the potential DOJ settlement?

Based on the information provided to the Alberta Crown, the crown determined that basically I was a liar. There was obviously no babysitter and my father said there was no babysitter. The CFNIS provided the Alberta Crown with the babysitter’s incorrect age. The exact incorrect age that existed in the 1980 CFSIU paperwork. This led Alberta Crown prosecutor Jon Weribicki to conclude that 1-1/2 years of graphic child sexual abuse at the hands of a pedophile that was twice my age and fully sexually developed was nothing more than “childhood curiosity and experimentation”.

Why would the CFNIS do this?

It wouldn’t be their choice.

This would have come down from high up the chain of command. The Vice Chief of Defence Staff has the legal authority under the National Defence Act to direct ANY CFNIS investigation.

Much like in 1980, the Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence would be terrified of the Canadian public discovering that children were not safe on military bases and that the military justice system failed untold numbers of kids.

And even worse, the Canadian Forces don’t want it known that they can’t conduct courts martial proceedings for service offences that occured prior to 1998 due to the 3-year time bar. And they can’t simply kick these matters over to the civilian courts as that option didn’t exist in 1980. In 1980 Captain McRae could only be tried by courts martial for the service offences of Gross Indecency, Indecent Assault, and Buggery. There was no way possible in 1980 to send him to the civilian system. And if the either the CFSIU or the CFNIS arrested and charged Angus McRae anytime between May of 1983 and his death in May of 2011 the CFSIU or the CFNIS wouldn’t be able to do anything with the charges as the three year time bar would apply.

Now, I doubt the the Minister of National Defence, the Chief of Defence Staff, and the Vice Chief of Defence Staff in 2011 would have ever envisioned that I would have seen this matter through as far as I have.

They probably all assumed that I would have sulked away with my tail between my legs.

The problem is that I went though too much hell with Captain Terry Totzke and Master Corporal Richard Wayne Gill in the aftermath.

However, I think I’m about to be subjected to the maxim “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished”.

I think what the DOJ will argue is that the 2011 CFNIS investigation should apply when determining how much settlement money I am offered. Meaning that I will walk away with maybe $10,000.00.

Based on the six charges that Colonel Daniel Edward Munro forwarded to the Courts Martial panel, the babysitter might walk away with $50,000.00 to $100,000.00 even though he was abusing us on his own and providing us to Captain McRae for Captain McRae to abuse in the rectory of the chapel after giving us wine.

Other victims of Captain McRae or the babysitter may fare better than I will as they weren’t called liars by the CFNIS, so if they claim that they were abused 5 or 6 times by the babysitter or McRae they might get $50,000.00 to $100,000.00 as the CFNIS wasn’t able to cast doubt on the veracity of their complaint.

And the one thing that the DOJ is refusing to even entertain compensation for is the years of conversion therapy I endured at the hands of Captain Terry Totzke in the aftermath of CFB Namao. And the DOJ is not willing to compensate for Captain Terry Totzke’s refusal to allow me to receive treatment for my severe mental illnesses due to the sexual abuse on CFB Namao.

But Bobbie, you’ve won, right?

Nope.

I haven’t won anything.

I’ve lost everything.

I’ve lost more in this life than you’ll ever realize.

I’ve lost more in this life then I’ll ever realize.

I was betrayed by my own father.

I was betrayed by the Canadian Armed Forces.

I was betrayed by the Government of Canada.

It wasn’t my choice to live in military housing on military bases.

At no point in my life did I ever agree to give up my rights as a Canadian Citizen to instead my rights as a Canadian Citizen to be cast aisde by the absolutely insane National Defence Act.

So, here I lay on my bed typing this blog entry out.

I know that the memories of the abuse and the aftermath still haunt me to this day.

As a kid I was never treated as a victim.

I was blamed for my abuse and the abuse of my brother on CFB Namao by Captain Terry Totzke and by my father.

The drepression and the anxiety eat away at me each and every day.

And this is why I really want medical assistance in dying.

It wasn’t that I had been abused once or twice and never told anyone.

It went on for a year and a half.

I was blamed for it

I was blamed for what happened to my brother.

I had to endure a dysfunctional household while this was going on.

My grandmother who raised my brother and I from 1976 until 1981 was a piss tank alcoholic.

My own father was a rage prone piss tank alcoholic in the Canadian Armed Forces.

We lived on military bases where dysfunctiona familes were a dirty secret and where everyone minded their own business no matter what they heard going on behind the walls of the PMQs.

I was so far gone that I was supposed to have been institutionalized in two different provinces.

I never received any manner of help with my major depression and severe anxiety that was a result of the sexual abuse with the exception of backhands and belts from my father to help correct my “fucking piss poor attitude”.

With medical assitance in dying I get to go away and never suffer from this shit again.

Yes, I’ll be dead. But I’ll be dead one day anyways. Why prolong the suffering?

It’s not like I’ll get the settlement cheque and then sunshine will burst forth from the heavens.

An apology won’t do fuck all, especially not at this juncture, not after having been fucked silly by the CFNIS starting in 2011.

And with my father being dead and never having to even admit what the fuck he truly knew in 1980, what he agreed to with the CFSIU and the chain of command on CFB Namao in 1980, or having to even weakly explain his statement to the CFNIS in 2011, there never will be any closure for me on this matter.

Yes, I fully understand that my father had great difficulty telling the truth. And he had a predisposition to tell people what he thought they wanted to hear. But it would have at least provided a small modicum of closure watching him squirm.

With the way my brain works I’d be focusing on this shit for the rest of my days. My untreated depression and anxiety would just continue to worsen as the days went by.

This is why I welcome death.

It puts an end to my issues.

It puts an end to my torment.

It puts an end to my mental anguish and suffering.

Pictures

Two weeks ago I went to see a photographer who took some pictures.

The last time Albert took some pictures of me was back before COVID-19

I honestly have no idea of where I would have ended up in life had I not been raised in a severely dysfunctional family.

Richard was not the type of parent to foster any type of growth.

Shut you fucking mouth. Why the fuck do you have to listen to that shit? Just go to school and take some fucking basket weaving courses and stare at the fuclking blackboard.

I learnt electronics from Richard? Not fucking likely.

I learnt automotive mechanics from Richard? Definitely a big fucking no there.

Surely Richard instilled a love of computers in you? Between 1987 and 2000 I didn’t own a computer. Never really had an interest in computers. Sure, I use the internet for my blogs, and doing research and such, but nope, no great love for computers

I was into make-up in the period of 2006 to 2011, but my dealings with the Canadian Armed Forces destroyed me emotionally and mentally. In a way I probably should have listened to Richard.

Wearing make-up died.

But my dresses never left.

Anyways, enjoy the pictures…………

This dress has a ton of fabric.
Me
Me again
Yep, me again
Guess who?
Blue
Yet another dress
Uh-oh my slip is showing…..

Photography.

I took this past Friday off from work to be photographed by a professional photographer.

I met Albert back in 2017 when he came to the hospital to document an energy savings program that phsycial plant had implemented.

He was brought in by the planner that had looked after the project.

He didn’t say anything to me at the time, but he asked the manager to contact me and to tell me that he was interested in taking some photos of me in his studio.

I went over and we did a photoshoot for a few hours.

It was interesting.

So, I decided that I’d like to have some more photographs taken seeing as how my wardrobe has become far more than second hand dresses. Also, my tattoos cover far more than what they did back in 2017.

I contacted Albert about a month ago and we set up an appointment on Friday.

I took four dresses over in addition to the dress that I was wearing.

I also took my favourtie heels.

Rode the scooter from Braid skytrain station over to Albert’s place.

Albert should start a therapy / photography service.

We talked for about 30 to 40 minutes before going into the studio. He seemed to want to flesh out why I wanted to pay to get my photographs taken.

I explained to Albert that I have a decent camera setup, and I like taking photographs of mechanical things, and odd things. I don’t like to photograph people and I don’t like people in my photographs.

I also explained that I am far too self concious and far too critical to take pictures of myself.

Albert asked me what happens when people want to take picture of me.

I told him that for some reason my brain reacts different.

For example, when I was in Iceland over the summer no matter where I went, both tourists and Icelanders were asking to take my picture.

I think the reason that I love dresses and colours and designs is they offset how absolutely dead I am on the inside.

Let’s face it, with what I’ve been through in life, I have the ultimate “resting bitch face”. People think that I’m angry. I’m not. I’m just completely dead on the inside.

As social services indicated back in 1982, I couldn’t express emotions, I couldn’t express happiness or sadness. Whenever they tried to get me to express my emotions it would usually end up in a temper tantrum. I had no idea of how to make friends. I was completely isolated. Captain Totzke and my father had no interest in getting me the help I needed at the time, so things were just left to fester.

I should have the photographs in a week’s time. Albert has to process the images. I’ll get them in RAW format, but he’ll also render JPG versions of the photos. Most of the portrait full frame shots were taken with a Medium Format digital camera.

A simple message

Do you think you know what depression looks like?
Do you think you know what depression feels like?

Here’s a message from the Norwich Football Club in Norwich, Norfolk, England.

The message deals with depression and how people can very easily miss the signs if they don’t know what they’re looking for.