It seems that the longer my son is away from me… the more I find myself hating the world. The bright, loving person within me dies a little more. I find myself growing a little colder, a little more distant, a little less interested. I am a broken spirit. I will continue to strive toward some sort of healing, though I fear it will not come when my son is no longer in my home. I fear I will forever be at a dissonance with those I once loved, those I thought of as family. I fear that my heart will once again grow hard and the black wall of my anger and pain will begin to resurface, that I will let myself sink back into the shadows where I have always felt safe, where I once found security. I am tired of feeling alone and feeling like no one can be trusted. I just want my son returned to me.
So, it has been 1 month and 1 week since I last posted and I have much to write about. Not long after my last post, I went into what my Psychologist calls a pathological psychotic hallucination, i.e. I started to feel like my partner was never going to get off of his video games and that we were just co-existing for the sake of my son. Needless to say, something totally snapped and I ended up lying on a pretty massive scale and not realizing it until it was far too late. I told him that I had been diagnosed with leukemia as a child, and was told by my oncologist that I was relapsing. I hallucinated all of this as being true and even clearly remembered it happening. This is part of the advanced psychotic complex that has been co-diagnosed as part of my Borderline Personality Disorder. It happens when I start to feel the fear of abandonment, or neglect. I make no excuses for myself. It was wrong. Well, when I was caught in it, he lost his mind on me, screaming at me, he had his parents take my son so we could “talk” and he proceeded to verbally abuse and degrade me until I was in a psychotic breakdown, he then left all of his razors and blades in the house, and left me alone. I called for help, because I was desperate not to let myself go through with the very dark thoughts on my mind. The state has taken my son into Foster Care, soley because I asked for help. Because I was suicidal, and called for help… and now I may not get more than 4 hours a week with him for several months… my heart is broken. My son is away from me, I am pregnant again and I have no more partner. In my defense I had warned that little boy in advance that I was suffering from all of this, and that he had to make sure he didn’t neglect me. I TOLD HIM I WAS CRAZY. Well, I am back to mental emotional stability and I am done being angry. I do not want that stupid asshole back. I do not want him to ever contact me again. As far as I am concerned he can just stay in his empty home, where the child he once called his son used to laugh and smile at him, and he can see the place where the bassinet was, and feel the emptiness of the corner where the swing used to be, he can wake up in the middle of the night looking for my son, and remember we are not there. All of the damn near fatal pain he has caused me. I hope he BURNS!