I know I had promised this earlier today, but today was a helluvah day and after everything I thought I was too beaten down to write. But here I am watching Braveheart and on the computer. This is probably going to be my shortest installment of the saga because it was a deep deep depression that I fell into before anything even remotely started to move towards the light….So where was I…Ahh yes
I fell to my knees in front of the diner.
I couldn’t breathe.
War and Grumpy found my not too long after that in a heap on the group, my phone cracked as it has fallen from my hands. My mother still yelling into the other line. I was rocking back and forth. My world was spinning and my fingernails were digging into my skin. My mind was racing. I didn’t know what went wrong. As War calmly picked up the phone to calm my mother down Grumpy lit me a ciggie and helped me to my feet. There were holes in my jeans here I had ripped there against the pavement. Grumpy leaned me against his heft as he held my wrists so I could not bring up any more red dots of blood to my akin. I tripped over my own feet as he placed me in the back of the car and slid in beside me, his hands still gently holding mine as I rambled on nonsensically about summer plans and how it didn’t make sense.
My mother was blaming me, I had done something wrong. Something about cat pee and the bathroom being gross. Something about the living been covered in moldy food and the kids not being promoted to the next grade. How there were too many absences. It didn’t make sense. We arrived home. War and Grumpy helped me up the stairs and heavily medicated me with mouse cake and my meds. War held me and stroked my hair and whispered to me as I fitfully fell asleep.
I was up at exactly 8 am. Trip would not pick up his phone for over 30 minutes. I paced around my neighborhood waiting to speak to him, waiting to find out what happened, what happened while I was in the hospital that made him take our kids. After he left the three of us while our daughter was in my belly and our son was a year and a half old. He only visited 3 times from across the country till our son turned 4 and then I let him stay unemployed on my couch for six whole months just because I thought he needed a relationship with the children. He thought he needed a relationship with his phone and beer. When he moved an hour away his barley saw him. It wasn’t until he was four hours away and was in a relationship with an older woman who had a on our sons age that he even made an effort and believe you me it wasn’t much f one. Even right before the hospital, he wasn’t calling. And trust me the kids had no interest in calling them. I hated them, I hated them because he owed me child support, because he wasn’t working, because she was spoiling him and he was evil and had hurt me but more he had hurt his kids. They told me once he was more like a big brother. And that coming from a child with Asperger’s is a huge deal. So what in the holy fuck was going on?
A half hour later he told me that they went upstairs and the house was a sty, there was food and cat piss everywhere. And cat shit. That there was shit in and on the toilet. That she took pictures. That the kid’s clothes smelled like cat piss. That the school said they were never there and were not passing. That there was no food in the fridge. He told he had a lawyer who was drawing up papers for full custody and that I could visit. That he wanted me to be part of their lives but obviously I couldn’t take care of them. He told me the school said they were failing out. That they wouldn’t go up in grades. He told me our son was already going to her son’s school and was doing better, that he enrolled our daughter in kindergarten for next year. That I was not fit to be a mother, I didn’t have the means to take care of them. It was that point I lost it.
I screamed, I yelled, I asked him who the fuck he thought he was. I was only in the hospital a few days and my house was clean. I knew for a fact the toilet wasn’t dirty because our snow as anal retentive about that. I knew he only sent her upstairs because he stayed in the car, my roomie told me that. She never went upstairs nor in our fridge. I knew that she didn’t go anywhere but the living room and bathroom and that the living room had laundry that needed to be folded and the kids were having a carpet picnic in front of the TV and mind you our cat only goes in her litterbox unless it is NOT cleaned. And she wouldn’t poop anywhere else. I knew the kids weren’t failing or the teacher would have spoken to me I was close to them, and he hadn’t picked up school work because I got emailed by them as well that it was never picked up. And how the hell could he enroll them when he had none of their medical records or insurance cards. Fuck he didn’t even have their social security numbers. He wasn’t sanctioned by me to obtain any of that stuff so how could he do that? WHY would he do that? I slid my back down against a telephone pole and cried, not because of the splinters but the internal pain.
Trip, I said, why are you doing this to me? They are happy and healthy. Jayson has all of his doctors here and his appointments. He has his therapist and med checks here how you could pull him away from that. You weren’t even around. They have a roof, food, clothes and are happy, what are you doing. He told me that he could provide better for them. (Meaning she could because he wasn’t doing anything). He hung up telling me I had to calm down before I called him back. 15 minutes later…and a bunch of wood splinters removed from my back I tried to make my voice as cheery as possible as I talked to our son.
I asked him if he was having fun and how everything was. He said it was ok, but there were no books to read and all they wanted to do was watch TV or play video games. But the teacher as her son’s school was cool, gave him extra work because he already knew what she was teaching. Something sounded off. He asked if I was better and when he could come home. I told him I was still in bed but as soon as I was 100% I would see him. It broke my heart. My daughter was worse, she sounded a mess (I founded after it was over she cried for me every night). She told me it was ok. The dog was good, she missed me lots and was happy I wasn’t going to heaven (that’s what she equates hospitals with). She said she wanted to come home. but since we were talking on speaker phone Trip nipped that in the bud quite quickly and she said I love you bye. Trip said I could call whenever I liked but I had to text him first. And then it was done.
I had just received a refund check and as I went upstairs I watched all of my check fall into the hands of an amazing attorney (whom I still own money too). I crawled into bed, barely talked to anyone, including war and medicated myself to not feel my pain. I spoke to my mom every day, four times a day. But I had no words. Who had words when you just can’t breathe?
Part 3 coming up soon….hopefully