And so it came to pass . . .
I finished filing twelve years of income taxes! Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!
Every year, just after the 21st Century started, I intended to file my taxes. Every year I picked up tax forms and guidebooks. And every year my good intentions gave way to depression, and long periods of time where I would sit and stare off into space.
My mother died. My father died. My ex-wife went out of her way to restrict my access to our children. I fell deeper and deeper into a black hole. I sank so deep that I was going to commit suicide. I changed my mind when I found out that committing suicide could cause my death.
I kept putting my tax papers in plastic bags and the thought of doing them hung over my head.
In September, 2011, I put all my worldly possessions in storage and began my nomadic existence. My worldly goods included several large plastic bags of tax papers. The thought of having to sort through the bags to separate twelve years of tax papers made me wish that elves would show up and do my taxes for me. Or, I wished I could wave a magic wand and my taxes would be done.
Finally this past spring, I decided to dig myself out of the hole I had fallen into. I decided that no one could save me, but me. I filed 2014 taxes and started slowly working backwards. I took responsibility, and was ready to accept the consequences.
Alarms went off at the Canada Revenue Agency (CRA) when they received my 2014 tax return. I received many letters from two different CRA departments demanding tax returns for earlier years. (Oh, the poor trees!) I was planning to take my time filing all my returns, but the CRA’s letters lit a fire under my butt. (The people I dealt with at the CRA were quite helpful. I have praise for them and no complaints.)
For the past six months I sorted through bags of mixed-up tax papers filing taxes from 2013 back to 2003. I would go to my storage locker everyday, pick up a bag of tax stuff, take it to the library sort it all out. I had to pack it all up when the library closed and return it to my storage locker. Then I would repeat the same process the next day. There were times when I wanted to quit, but I kept at it.
Yesterday, Saturday October 3, I filed my last return. I did it all by myself! I dug myself out of the hole. I am stronger emotionally for it. Never again will I allow depressing thoughts to paralyze me so. Never again no matter what happens. I did not kill myself, and I have no addiction issues. I survived! I can survive anything—even if someone cuts off my head. (If someone cuts off my head, then I can always get a job with the government.)
I am damn proud of myself, damn proud!