So, today I must do the needful… dishes, laundry, vacuum a bit, pantry organization and then, when I am satisfied with the condition of the house… I must write a letter... What do you put in a letter for your son who you have not seen in 12 years? A person I know so little about. I have not seen him since he was five. He turns 17 Monday but I wait until the last day every year, freaking out about what to say, or rather.. not to say. He will be an adult for all sense an purpose so soon... One year? Holy shit.
A day that I told myself would take (what seemed like) a lifetime to come. After that fateful, awful, day in court that I gave in and submitted to their demands. After the constant harassment, false police reports, stalking and lies. I regretfully signed him over. Not because I wanted to, but because my lawyer said I should and no family had my back.
Not to mention the deceitful court system… I had to have "lesbian" stricken from the record so many times I was blue in the face. I was physically not well and after all of the psychological things my husband had put me through, despicable things I have never, and likely will never disclose… I gave up.
So many things awry that I could hardly even identify every crime played upon me as the stagnated person I was when I was with him. Years later, as an informed but bruised if not hindered adult after the war was over I could see so much clearer. I recognize the abuse for what it always was, most certainly in the beginning when I was still hardly understanding how the world worked. I never saw it coming… The warning signs or manipulation of a man who left me miseducated, defeated and worn, barren without my only child.
I was was ignorant, ill educated and vastly unequipped to deal with the grotesque psychological warfare that he waged on me, I was too immature and uninformed. I certainly didn't understand the law, the court system seemed like a web of traps.. I had no leg to stand on. I didn't understand how he could have had so many bank accounts, phone numbers or condoms I knee nothing about, for that matter… sad as that may be. I was more hurt than guarded and certainly more injured than ready for a legal battle for my child.
This all transpired because I had decided that our relationship was unhealthy, and I wanted a divorce, after years of infidelity, confusion and the seemingly purposeful misleading I felt used and I wanted out. That relationship was certainly NOT healthy, with the older, and far wiser, man willing to sacrifice my health or even life… to yield him a child. Sadly the idea of him being so wonderful was so ingrained that even today I sometimes wonder if he would be proud if me.… sick as it may be.
At the time, I blamed myself for a barrage of things that I now see so clearly as not my own errors to claim. Yet, even still, my baggage and pain to carry regardless of clarity. I was a easy, needy target for that man and he was all too eager to pay the way for me. Honest men look for suitable, educated WOMEN… not little girls. Though I was smart, don't get me wrong, I was quick, I was still a child at 15 when he found me, no no matter how I'd rather spin it to save my own disgrace… or his honour.
I was an impoverished and malnourished child with severe daddy issues. I was all too eager to please, still in a shadowed haze of post sexual abuse ingrained upon me in my very early years by several unrespectable, disgusting men, all of whom I had trusted. I had a distorted vision of love and he knew that, he saw it and he ran with it in every way possible.
So, I digress, coming back around to the birthday, the letter and Damon… I was unable to deal with more LIFE of constant courtrooms of forcing any beautiful gifted child to suffer. Too akin to the doom I suffered from the custody battles of my parents, rape allegations and molestation court which began when I was just 6. I hate courtrooms so much…
So, last night I could not quiet my mind. It was moving a million miles a min... the who's and why's plague me often but this time of year I am riddled with them. Considering how I have honestly lived my whole life eating the displaced blame of the so many elder people who were around me… wondering why or who would want that for their child? I know didn't. I felt If removing me… meant that it would stop the nonsense (because, otherwise, despite myself, his family seemed like compassionate people) who was I to steal his childhood selfishly?
Now, the doubt of these many years of guilt, wonder, pain and tears and hoping that I made the right choice… could come to light at any moment. The idea both daunting and exciting, I suppose... fear is a good word for it.
So, what now??? Ya know, What can I say other than Happy Birthday, I miss you..
Perhaps one day, At the moment of truth… (dependingon his age) That I stepped back to save him from what I perceived as needless suffering because I wanted him to live a better life than I did… even if it meant he hated me? Do I lie to save the face of his father in his eyes 👀 ? Likely yes.
Ever still…
I cannot stop thinking… will it happen soon? I think.. maybe already has… in the ghosting of me. I don't know if he is alive, where he is or if Howard told him lies about me, or about us. I assumed he would have to or admit that man who was 9 years the senior to a smitten 15 year old wayward girl stole her only child in such a screwed up way.
I often wonder… did his family move him far away… Did they change his name? Does he hate me? I just wanted to say how I have been feeling… chaotic for days, years even. Confused about what to say, less confused about what transpired, but every passing day that I miss him so very, very much.
That much is the truth… .
