Nowhere to turn
I want to keep this short but I don't know that I can or will. I feel like my situation is so gosh darn unique that if I gave pertinent details I might as well sign my name to this confession. I know the odds of somebody I know seeing this is quite thin, but I feel like with my luck, that would happen. My baby daddy would print it out, give it to the judge and basically strip me naked for a public flogging for the disabilities I didn't ask for and hardships I can do little about. I was born with sickle cell disease. I became deaf when I was 12. I have a cochlear implant, but it didn't change the 3 years I was totally deaf, completely isolated from the world. I'm uncommonly beautiful and smart and before it happened, I was, or at least felt I was, a popular, well liked, and generally adored human being. 3 years trapped in your head when your 12 years old, having a completely opposite experience than anything you'd ever known, trying to make sense of it all, and wondering how God could let something so awful happen with no warning and no apparent cause... To YOU of all people, who'd never done anything to hurt anyone. Fast forward to so-called adulthood just 5 years later. Off to the fancy college I dreamed of all my life. Making no amendment to that dream regardless of how different my life really was at that point... Preferring to believe everything was as it ever was. Many years trying and failing at higher education, and finding work, and then finally getting myself knocked up at 27, and becoming a single mom... I guess I cracked. Ended up in and out of 72 hour mental health holds, and then diagnosed bipolar at 31. I took the meds, did ok for awhile... Then once I felt "better," I decided they made a mistake, and even if they hadn't... I could no longer live with those extra 35 pounds. I stopped taking my meds, spiraling more and more out of control. Convinced myself my life was so s***** cause I was "chosen," and proceeded to create a public blog in which I presented evidence of why I thought I was the 2nd coming off of Christ. Hahaha. Then I convinced myself I was in love with and destined to be with this loser ex-con on parole... largely because he had a Jewish sounding last name that matched the narrative I was piecing together in my corrupted mind. I can't even get into how much worse things got from there, but my baby daddy took away my son. Who was and is the only thing that keeps me from killing myself. I've stayed on my meds 3 years, finally been seperated from that loser for 2 years, thinking I'm ready to reposition myself and somehow get a greater involvement in my son's life. Ready to take the leap to move 400 miles away to where he's lived the past 3 years. God, it's only been a year that I've had "unsupervised" visits, but he's already 10, he'll be a teenager in a blink and won't want or need me in his life. I can't, I just can't miss these years. I waited and dreamed and prayed for the day all the hard parts would be over. The promised land of what I thought the Golden age of parenthood. Like 3rd-6th grade... and his dad swoops in just as I'm on the cusp... When he's nearly 7 and takes it all away. It hurts so much, I just want to be there. So, I opened the case back up here. Told them I'd be making my move to get where my son is. We went to court this week, and it's just SO Much! I'm all alone, no one to lean upon, and I'm falling apart even as it's NEVER been more important to hold it together. Everyone is watching. My son's dad is like that awful kid holding the magnifying glass on the sunny day... and I'm the ant being burned alive for his amusement. The court and judge are the awful kids he's called over to marvel at the massacre and "ooh and ahh" at the fat j*** showcasing what he thinks is the cleverest and awesome thing he's ever done, or ever will do. And, huh... I guess it's up to me to scramble and escape with my very life.