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    Toxic Man
    Toxic Man
    Toxic Man
    Ebook63 pages49 minutes

    Toxic Man

    By Alexie Linn

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    About this ebook

    Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.
    Soren Kierkegaard

    “Toxic? That's very broad, Joan. What made him toxic?” Joan and I were having our book meeting before I went to work on her rough manuscript.

    “Oh, my goodness, Alexie! There's so much to choose from with Gary.” I could see Joan's wheels turning to sort her client's maladies. Eventually she spoke.

    “What forced his grief journey to contact me was the chemo that killed the cancer. Now he's toxic from the chemo – heavy metal poisoning that they told him they can't do anything about. Or it might have been the loss of his job – he's a research lab chemist.” She rested her chin on her hand while she went down memory lane before she continued.

    “Egads, or was it the HIV his partner's incapacitated from? Gary's the sole support and caregiver. Top it all off with Gary being bipolar. Hmm, Alexie, you tell me what made him toxic.”

    I shook my head, “That's an overwhelming list, Joan. What could you possibly do for this man?”

    “Well, I was able to refer him and to discuss a couple of things before the body was found under the railroad trestle. He'd turned on me a few times before we got through that first meeting – I recognized bipolar at work. After that first meeting we went to phone coaching – safer all around.”

    I considered what she'd just shared with me and kind of wanted to know more, “Not to pry, Joan, but you seem quite experienced with bipolar – is this the first time you thought it was worthy of a book?”

    Joan looked like I'd caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. “Maybe. Or, maybe how I know so much is too hard for me to talk about.” Joan's foot tapped and her fingers drummed while she pondered how much of her soul she wanted to bare...

    She spoke quietly, “Who wants to admit they were dumb enough to believe the belittling and berating lies for so many years? To keep trying to please and prevent the tirades and attacks – without success; to believe he could control himself and never do it again?”

    I forced myself to listen intently while she chewed through her memories, deciding whether to let me in to more of her previous life.

    “When I hear of a mate – especially a wife – who killed her husband in a bipolar situation, I understand completely. The only difference between me and that person is that I didn't act on the picture in my head. I shut down my emotions so that I felt nothing. I was in neutral or deep sadness – nowhere else.” Joan was quiet for a minute, or so...lost in sad memories. I was beginning to wish I could erase my intrusive question.

    Then, suddenly, she looked right at me with a smile on her face. Tears bubbled out of her eyes, “But I became a widow through natural causes, and life began. My grief was not from loss – I know he's in a much better place – but from the abrupt and permanent changes in everyday life. My own journey through the program was a complicated one – waking up emotions – turning into a puddle of relief... learning to feel joy, anger, and every other emotion in the humanoid spectrum...”

    I began to wonder if the dam would ever slow again. What have I done?

    And now I live by Mama's words of, 'No one will ever do that to you again'. By the time I got my second chance at life, those words were ingrained into my psyche – and no one has – including that poor man who is toxic in so many ways.”

    Joan hopped up to leave, “And I have places to go and things to do, Alexie. I'll leave you to what you do the best – correct me.”

    I shuffled the papers on my desk, dealing with my own emotions, “Very good, Joan. Thank you for sharing that horrific chapter of your life with me – I probably would have told me to mind my own business.

    But, yes, forward... march!”

    Joan left me with Toxic Man – A Trilogy. I thought about all the others who – I hope –survived their own toxic partner and wondered if there are more positi

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAlexie Linn
    Release dateMar 5, 2015
    ISBN9781310166853
    Toxic Man
    Author

    Alexie Linn

    Alexie Linn was born, raised, and stuck in Whatcom County, Washington - that's the drippy side - until she escaped ca.1995 to the desert southwest -- Arizona. After her feet returned to normal human feet - as opposed to heavily webbed duck feet, she decided to stay near dry heat - except in August when the mild Pacific Northwest is simply marvelous most of the time. She holds certificates in writing, life coaching, nutritional therapy, and counseling - to name just a few. She loves to learn, to help people do what they want to do, and to call an RV her home, as long as it's parked out in the 'sticks'. Writing is her favorite thing to do at 3 AM while reading is her favorite thing to do at 3 PM. Alexie writes from a genetic need, much life experience, and an extremely active imagination.

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      Book preview

      Toxic Man - Alexie Linn

      Good Grief! The Series Volume 3

      Toxic Man

      7 Days – 7 Steps

      Grief Recovery Fast-Tracked in Joan's Unorthodox, Simply Successful Style

      by Alexie Linn

      Published by MA Deeter Company

      https://www.alexielinn.com

      All people and events in this work of fiction are wholly contrived from the imagination of the author.

      Copyright 2014 MA Deeter Company

      All Rights Reserved

      Edited by Marcella Cowens

      Cover design by MA Deeter

      Cover image from Shutterstock.com

      Author image by Frederick Eschbach

      'Don't Look Back' by Mary Engelbreight

      This book is dedicated to each and every one who has lived in an abusive relationship – whether you knew it or not. It will get better, one way or another.

      And in support of that issue, 25 cents of each sale of this book is donated to the healing of the abused. Learn more at www.alexielinn.com and thank you for empowering good grief.

      Chapter 1

      My cell phone rang, interrupting my all important (sometimes worst enemy) pondering the options of making my place more secure when I'm absent 7 months of the year. I had 3 lists going, but put my pencil down to pick-up my phone, survey the unfamiliar number displayed, and push answer call.

      Hello, I said cautiously, holding the phone so I could push end call quickly if it was a robo-call.

      I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE! It was an extremely distraught high pitched masculine voice, apparently sobbing – definitely not a robo-call.

      Hello, I said again in my best detached tone. This is Joan. Who are you trying to call?

      The sobbing slowed some.

      I'm looking for Joan Freed, the voice hiccuped. Are you Joan Freed?

      Yes, I am, I responded. How may I help you?

      My name is Gary, he said. "I'm told you're one of the best life coaches and nutritional therapists around and you don't charge.

      Is that true?"

      Ahem, I cleared my throat.

      I'll admit to being one of the most far out life coaches because my office is not in the confines of a building and I focus on one client's jump-start healing at a time.

      I took a breath while I thought, "I'll also admit to working by donation because the majority of people who need my expertise are in financial stress as well.

      However! I climbed onto my soapbox, My services are as valuable as the people I coach.

      I accept what's offered in payment and, fortunately, have never been offered a chicken." I climbed off my soapbox and listened to see if my ploy worked.

      A slight ha, ha came out of the phone. A small success in diversionary terms, but nothing to write home – or a book – about.

      Will you help me, Joan? Gary asked.

      Maybe. If I think I can. I'll meet with you. We'll decide then if we should continue, I said. Does that sound doable to you, Gary?

      Yes, he said through an obvious lump in his throat. Today? Will you come here?

      I felt my heels digging in at 1) going to the big city, and 2) meeting a complete stranger at his house – his turf, where he will be the boss. Hmm – no.

      I can meet you at the fishing bridge at Desert Breeze Park in Chandler in 2 hours? Will that work for you? I asked.

      Yes. I know where that is. I can be there. How will I know you? he asked.

      I'll find you, I said. Do you have a red hat?

      No, but I have a red bandanna.

      How about a walking stick or a cane?

      Yes, I have a walking stick.

      Tie the bandanna onto the walking stick, I instructed. I'll see you about 11 am at the fishing bridge in Desert Breeze Park. Okay?

      Yes, ma'am, he said, and thank you.

      We broke the connection.

      I chose Desert Breeze Park for several reasons:

      I know where it is – close to my end of entering the chaos of a city.

      There are always people around.

      I could park my truck in the shade to keep it

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