I am one of over 6 million Canadian citizens who are currently being held as political prisoners. The walls of this very large prison are the borders and shorelines of Canada. There are vast amounts of land within the walls of this prison, so it would appear to other Canadians that we are free. But the travel ban has created walls that feel as real as the Berlin Wall once was. I wake up at night, my flight response activated, heart pounding, adrenalin running, terrified. During the day I listen to friends, neighbours and collegues talk about their recent trips to visit family in Canada or holidays abroad. Many are oblivious to the fact that I am one of the invisible prisoners. This disturbs me even more deeply than the midnight panic attacks.

What crime did 6 million Canadians commit? What laws did we break? Why must we be held captive within the borders of Canada? What danger do we pose to airplanes, trains, buses and boats? What harm might we inflict upon our fellow travellers? What havoc might we wreak upon other nations? Why have we been vilified, demonized and condemned?

I am one of over 6 million Canadians who have made health choices other than the government, big pharma and globalist agenda sanctioned drug injection program. I erroneously believed that the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms is a document that protects Canadian citizens from government over reach and tyranny. I innocently believed I lived in a free, democratic country. I received a very shocking wake up call, as did millions of Canadians. Millions have also lost much more than the ability to travel or leave the country. I wonder what it will take for more Canadians to receive their wake up calls.

When the travel ban was announced in August 2021, I was sitting with my mother and sister on the backyard deck at my mother’s home in Toronto. I had flown from my home on Vancouver Island to visit my family, whom I hadn’t seen in 2 years. No drug injections, QR coded vaxports or tests were required to fly. The travel ban announcement pierced me like an arrow to my heart. I collapsed to the ground, weeping. Fear, anger and hurt that I had been silently harbouring since the onset of the plandemic, spilled out. I screamed. I raged. I voiced my heretical views unabashedly. My mother and sister listened.

I expressed how vulnerable and terrified I had been feeling since the Canadian government began to demonize the “unvaxed” and millions of Canadians fell inline like petty bullies, parroting hateful propaganda. I told them how upsetting it was to listen to close relatives condemn and denounce the crazy anti-vaxxers and freedom protesters while we sipped lemonade together at a family gathering. How hurt I felt when I was not welcome in the homes of other family and friends. My sister admitted she was afraid I would die if I didn’t get the vax. I admitted I was afraid my entire family would die because they are all double vaxed. My sister and I laughed. Then we cried. Feeling our love, care and concern for each other, tender places in my heart opened. I let go and cried even more. My mother looked on with slight puzzlement and hugged me.

My mother’s memory and daily functioning are rapidly declining with the onset of Alzheimers. She was always a critical thinker. Even though she struggles to articulate her thoughts, she knows that something is not right. Since the lockdowns and social distancing began in 2020, services, in person programs and assessments for people living with Alzheimers all stopped. She lives alone. My siblings who live in Toronto are her primary support. I live 3,500 km away. It takes 5-6 days to drive to Toronto from Vancouver Island. It takes 5 hours to fly.

My flight back home departed the day after the travel ban announcement. Not knowing if I would be able to fly again anytime in the near future, my goodbyes were heavy with gravity and finality. When I arrived back in British Columbia, the dreaded vaxpass was in effect. More mandates were piling on like heavy weights. The vilification, harassment of dissidents and discrimination against the “unvaxed” increased. I rarely ventured out into cold, inhospitable, public spaces where I was not welcome. The walls of the invisible prison were closing in stronger and tighter as the cold, dark winter nights grew longer and longer.

And then, utterly surprisingly, the Freedom Convoy broke through. It was stunning. A massive wake up call, honking and rumbling across Canada. Big and bold for all to see. I felt elated and euphoric. Surely this would ignite the hearts of millions more Canadians to stand and restore freedom and democracy. I was shocked and horrified when the Prime Minister essentially declared war on citizens who oppose government tyranny, and many Canadians agreed with his policies. Then attention was redirected to foreign wars. Now unvaccinated Ukrainians are allowed to fly on connecting flights within Canada, but unvaccinated Canadian citizens are not. Read about exemptions here

It is now April 2022. My mother’s cognitive decline continues. Her driver’s licence was taken from her when she failed a recent memory assessment. Very soon she will need to move out of her beloved home and into a senior’s residential care facility. She, too, is losing her autonomy, ability to travel, as well as many of her cherished freedoms. Every time I speak to her, she asks about my plans to come to Toronto. She emails me numerous times every week, inquiring about my flight dates. I tell her I cannot book a flight because I can not board an airplane.

She can’t understand why. Neither can I.

************

Source