Oh Dear Memories…

I have been saying for months that I am going to doing the daily prompts, I have sent to me faithfully everyday (and truthfully its probably been 54998_727985424818_5476386_oover a year they have been coming to me), but I somehow never manage to do one. Nope. Not even one. Not even close to one. This right here is the closest I have ever come. I decided today to just do it. It’s funny that I did it this way. By the events that have happened, happening in the order that they have, God and the universe have once again shown me that EVERYTHING and I do mean EVERYTHING happens for a reason!

Today’s challenge is to write about a moment or incident that I treasure, no matter if it is good or bad. As long as the moment or incident brings me some type of insight about myself I am free to write about it. Now that was funny to me (note: this is said with extreme sarcasm). It opened up way too many doors for me, and all at once! Then I received a phone call and a light bulb clicked on in my head. This is the perfect topic for me, especially during this time in my life. 

1072457_10100902921565348_1884665439_oTo answer the prompt, the incident I treasure most in my life is the day I stood before a man in the court of law and heard him strip me of my child based off the testimony of another woman and my adoptive parents. 

Not expecting that, huh?

That moment changed my life in so many ways, but without it, without it I would not be where I am today nor who I am. I would not have the strength that I have or determination. I would not have the courage nor resilience that I currently possess.The knowledge I have acquired and the pain I have went through have only made me a phenomenal woman to contend with. When I first lost custody of my oldest daughter I was overtaken with grief, guilt, shame, anger, bitterness, hurt, shock, and on and on and on… I hid out in my sister’s basement, and if I wasn’t working, I was sleeping. I hated living life. I had failed the one person I had swore never to and at that moment I thought I had lost her for life. I felt stripped of everything and naked, exposed to the world, against my will.

I know some of you are truly wondering, “Is this another angry, bitter, unfit mother; ranting and raving when she probably shouldn’t have had52856_720388324468_5164127_o her kids to begin with!” Or something along those lines.  Then there are those of you wondering what I did. The fact is I was getting beat on a continuous basis by my adoptive father or my child’s father, while my adoptive mother verbally and mentally continue to scar me even after attempting to escape her at least sixty times before. The fact is that despite how television, talk shows, movies, newspapers, and books would like to make it seem there is so much help and resources available to women living under the condition I was, there really isn’t all that much. At least not the kind of help that helps a woman recover her children and make a bright, happy future for them. 

I went to the police. Several times. If they weren’t joking about the situation, they were throwing accusations at me as though it was my fault. Friends and family members were no better, blatantly making comments such as “She has to like it.” Now although there are many of you would argue people don’t really mean it when they say that, I would like to ask…then what is the point of saying it to an already discouraged, beaten, bruised, and abused single mother.  Or the friends who cut you off because you refuse to leave, yet they have no solutions as to what to do after you leave with your child or children. No clue. No advice. No money. No car. No home. No food. Nothing. The fact is being an abused woman is one of the most crippling, demeaning, depressing, stressful, and killing situations a woman can face in her life. It is like being in jail, only worse.

Add to that a custody battle over your daughter, fighting your abusive adoptive parents, and having a biological mother turn her back on you yet again. You have very few choices. Well…I chose to fight. I chose not to give up and for seven, long, excruciating painful years I am two weeks away from possibly reuniting permanently with my oldest daughter.

I have no choice but to win. She depends on it. She counts on me. She trusts me, and she believes in me; I REFUSE to let her down anymore.  With that said, this entire incident has shown me that I can do all things, with God’s help, I can. It is amazing to see my growth and progress to get to this point, and I know without this incident the incredible future I have ahead of me would not be possible. 

For anyone going through what I have been through or a similar situation, I know your pain, I know your hurt, but please know you CAN do it; just like I have. 

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