The post that has absolutely nothing to do with running or a healthy lifestyle

• I don't usually do two posts in a row, but I'm having a shitty day.  You know, the kind where you feel like crying for no reason and where you feel you have no one to talk to that will understand? That's me right now.
• This morning I was driving through Six Nations Reserve to get to Brantford (where I had a work meeting).  Whenever I drive to Brantford, I swing onto Six Nations to get cheap gas.  It's totally worth it.  Gas in Hamilton was 125.6/liter today.  I paid .96/liter on Six Nations.  I spent time afterwards just driving around. I felt peaceful for the first time in a long time. Six Nations is a Mohawk reserve. I'm Ojibwa, from Serpent River in Cutler Ontario. I've been to my reserve once. To meet my birth mother in April 2010. My visit to Cutler was a stressful one because of the circumstances. 
• I am a lost soul. I never fit into the "white" world where I was raised, and I always felt left out of the Native world where I should have belonged.  My adoptive parents loved me.  My mother loved me, my father still does.  It made no difference to them what I was.  My paternal grandmother was not happy that my parents adopted Native children (my sister and I).  And although we were not ostracized from our family, it was blatantly obvious that we were different from the fair haired, light skinned members of our adopted clan. Since my mother's death, I have had ZERO contact with her side of the family. I have reached out a few times, only to be ignored. Not one of my mother's relatives came to Julien's baptism. They would have been there if my mother was still alive. She would have accepted nothing less.
• I love people. People of any race, nationality, creed or sexual orientation. You name it, I love them! I work with disadvantaged youth who come from very diverse cultural backgrounds, and have numerous traits that society may deem unfavorable. I treat them all the same and work as equally hard for one as I do for the other. I advocate for them with 100% conviction.  That's just how I roll.  I abhor discrimination and oppression and have zero tolerance for people who make derogatory comments about others.  It makes me shut down.
• If I hear one more person complain about how immigrants are taking Christmas away from Canada, I am going to scream.  It's immigrants who brought Christmas to Canada in the first place.  I can assure you that before European settlement, Christmas was not celebrated on this continent.  Christianity was brought to the First Nations people in a very abusive and oppressive manner.  If you have never heard of residential schools, I suggest you hit the link.  I am not writing this to offend and I apologize if someone reading this is offended.  I have nothing against any religion.  I am simply stating that you have the right to be Christian in Canada, as well as the right to be Muslim, Sikh, Hindu, Buddhist, Jewish...whatever religion or non-religion you believe in.  Canada is not a Christian country in my opinion.  First Nations people practice sacred ceremonies/beliefs that do not fall under the umbrella of religion.  That being said, I was raised a Catholic and am raising my son a Catholic.  
• My most hated racist name? Paki.  I mean, any racist name causes me to cringe, but I absolutely hate hearing someone say Paki. When I was a child I was called a Paki all the time.  I am not from Pakistan. I would never refer to a person from Pakistan as a Paki.  I am...what am I? Am I Native, Aboriginal, Native Canadian, Indian, First Nations, Saulteaux, Chippewa, Bungi, Anishinabe, Ojibwe or simply Ojibwa? I'm not sure what the politically correct name is for me. My government says I am an Indian.  It says so on my Indian status card. But sadly, I don't even know what to refer to myself as.
• Although I felt peaceful while on Six Nations, I started to feel anxious as I drove back to Hamilton. I always think of my birth mother anytime I am near anything that has to do with the Native culture. There were so many things left unsaid between us, and I'll never get to tell her things I wanted to say, or ask her the questions I wanted answered. I just need to let that go.
• Today I needed my mother. I needed to talk to her.  No one loves you as much as your mother does. I love someone beyond reason, but no one loves me like that anymore. I was very close to my mother. She was not perfect. Far from it. But we had a special bond. It was me she asked for on her death bed and I was alone with her when she took her last breath. Second to Julien's birth, it was the most important moment in my life. And one that I can never get out of my memory. I wish I could because hers was not a peaceful death.  I lied to my father, my brothers and my sister and told them that she died in her sleep. She was semi-conscious when she died and struggled horribly for her last breath. I wanted to ease their pain and have held that secret inside me for over 10 years.
• I'm not sure why I wrote this post. I may very well hit publish, then take it down.  All I know is that I needed to write this for me because my heart is heavy and I'm not sure why I feel this way today.