Family court will break you and force you to hide what you could have treated

You cannot go in for therapy. You cannot.

You cannot admit any personal defects. Against the rules. You must be perfect at all times. No exaggeration here.

Feelings are to be kept to oneself always. They are not allowed in family court. They are not allowed amongst parents- period. As long as the government is concerned- a fit parent has no feelings whatsoever.

Images

Apparently no images allowed

The Battle to Get My Son Diagnosed and Treated for Autism.

Getting my son in and diagnosed and treated for autism was kind of a battle. School system was too backed up evaluate right away and then they forgot about it! They actually forgot. I had to pull my son out of daycare because clearly he needed special attention. I changed my work hours to doubles on the weekends so that I could still have money.
I did alot of research on my own about autism. Didn’t know the first thing about it until my son was maybe 1.5 or 2 years old. I had asked doctors and such many times “is it normal that he doesn’t talk? I don’t think it’s normal”. At the age of 1, he was able to spell out (in those foam bath letters) “I love you”. I was flabbergasted. He couldn’t talk but he could spell?? At that age?? The first place I took him for help claimed to have done and IQ test. Against my consent. I was furious when they told me his IQ was basically that of a vegetable. He couldn’t talk so how could they test him? You can’t test someone’s IQ when they can’t even answer the questions!
I was also told by some other practitioner that “unfortunately most kids with autism are also mentally impaired” which I straight up did not believe.

I started asking family members if they’d seen this before. This was my first baby and I didn’t know what was “normal” and what was not. My father recalled that HIS father apparently had not spoken until the age of 6 and was classified as “slow”. But then when my grandfather began to talk, it was clear that his intelligence was high.

My son couldn’t talk until the age of 6 also. He couldn’t speak a word. He made noises. I was terrified that this was permanent. I even accepted that maybe he was not intelligent but that it would be my goal at least for him to be happy.

He had tantrums because he couldn’t speak. One time, I forgot to buckle him in to his seat in the car. I started to drive and he started screaming and kicking the back of my seat. I had no idea what the problem was. I pulled over to investigate and sure enough- his seatbelt wasn’t on and he knew it and that was his only way to communicate it to me. I buckled him up and the “tantrum” ended immediately.

I put him on a waiting list for an autism center that had excellent reviews. We waited for almost a year for him to start there. When I say “we”, I mean he and I. I couldn’t have him in daycare- he was miserable and didn’t interact with anyone. So Monday through Friday every week- I took him out most days to do fun things like going to the zoo or museum. I got used to narrating everything with him because I didn’t know what he knew or if he knew I loved him even.

I continued to work long weekend hours until he was accepted into the center. Then I drove him there during the morning, picked him up at noon and took him to special education in the afternoon. I took on waitressing during the week because as a nurse- I couldn’t work half a shift, go pick him up and then go back to work. I continued to work as a nurse on the weekend. Weekends he spent with his father. I asked that his father maybe take him during the week sometimes so that I could work but he said he “couldn’t” due to his desk job as a receptionist. I could have been making much much more money- twice what his father made by working during the week but I suspect also that with all the therapies I was taking my son to- that his father maybe couldn’t manage that. And it was a lot to manage. I felt kind of like his caseworker.

I spent the vast majority of my time looking for ways to make things better for him. I learned everything I could about autism.

In what felt like a miracle at the time, he began to speak. His speech was slow to come but it was coming!

So many times a well meaning stranger would say something to him and he would stare and I would be forced to say something like “he kind of doesn’t talk right now”. People couldn’t tell he had a disability by looking at him.

We had to switch schools a couple of times because he wasn’t getting the attention he needed or deserved. He was bullied at one school and I was forced to pull him out- while I was 8 months pregnant- because the administration wouldn’t address the bullying.

The new school was amazing. But he still had such a long way to go. A couple of times, the school tried to get me to put him in a center and I refused. Instead, I would come to his school and teach the staff how to behave with him. Eventually, his speech improved dramatically and his behavior problems all but ended.

He became an asset to the school. One of their favorite students. He was a model of kindness, compassion, humor and dedication. He was beloved by all and smart too. It’s like a dream now to think that I was told 12 years ago that he would never talk and was mentally handicapped for life. Nobody would believe it interacting with him now.

I am so so proud of him. He couldn’t have learned to talk and to behave without putting a lot of work into it himself. Sometimes people give me all the credit for his success. But I know he worked just as hard as I did to get better. And I love him all the more for his strength and how emotionally intelligent he is now at the age of 14. He will be a successful and happy adult now, I am sure of it.

Coparenting with the Narcissist: Part 2- From the Frying Pan Into the Fire

I had only been in a romantic relationship with the narcissist (Guy) for about a year and a half- at the most. But choosing to have a child with him ensured that the abuse would continue for many more years.

I didn’t know this when I chose to keep the baby. I was told by people who knew Guy that his father had abandoned him and that it was likely he would abandon his child. I was also told that his father had had his mother committed to a mental institution- just like he had attempted to do to me.

I had the baby an entire month early. It was a rough pregnancy. I was scared, tired, on edge all of the time and traumatized. I didn’t know how much worse things could get. I was about to find out when I was served with paperwork about three weeks after the baby’s premature birth from an attorney representing Guy- the paperwork asked for him to have the baby half the time, starting immediately.

Guy had never had experience with babies. He had shown me that he wasn’t very nurturing or even responsible when it came to pets and children. Guys ex-girlfriend told me (I should have taped this) that he once held a gun to his head in front of her children and threatened to blow his brains out.

Guy had a very frightening rescue dog- a large pit bull with psychological problems. The dog had bitten people- including children- and Guy had not told me this. I found out when the dog had attacked a neighbor and that neighbor called the police that the dog had a history of attacking people and this was no small dog. This dog was over a hundred pounds of muscle and very skittish. Guy didn’t really take care of him. I did. Guy put a spiked collar on the dog that caused the dog to have open skin lesions that Guy never treated.

These were part of the reasons I was uncomfortable with Guy taking our premature baby unsupervised immediately. I realized I had to find an attorney and fast to respond to his lawsuit. It wasn’t easy finding a lawyer and I didn’t know what to look for in one. I went though a few that made mistakes that really hurt my case. For example, one did not get the ex girlfriend’s testimony before claiming she had and by that point, Guy had found out that she was going to talk and threatened her kids. She did not testify after that.

I foolishly thought that the law would protect me and the kids. I had thought that the domestic violence would be taken into account and it wasn’t. It didn’t matter how much Guy lied or about what. The court did not seem to care.

To be continued..

Coparenting with a Narcissist: Part 1

This story is for my daughter, whom I hope will understand.

It’s been over seven years since I left my abusive ex boyfriend and I feel like the abuse continues just in a different way and I don’t know how much more I can take.

I dated the guy, let’s call him “Guy”, for a year and a half. Tops. Most of that time was miserable. We started dating very shortly after I had left my husband and was not even close to having recovered from that. I had changed my expectations after leaving my husband. I decided I no longer needed “Mr. Right”, just “Mr. Good Enough”. So I was never in love with Guy. I was mostly thinking “hey, we get along well enough, he helps me with my son, he’s okay”. One of the biggest mistakes I made in my assessment of his character was that he seemed really “laidback”. I later came to find out that he was and is the most controlling person I’ve ever known in my entire life. But I didn’t know what narcissists were then.

Guy was living rent free with his boss and his “rescue dog” when we first started dating. We bonded over a mutual dislike for our exes- he had been in a long term relationship with my husbands sister. I didn’t really question why he was living on his bosses couch when he clearly could easily afford his own place. It occurred to me as strange, but I didn’t pry.

Because I had a young son on my own and was paying all the bills- I wasn’t averse to help from Guy. I realize now that this was my biggest mistake. I assumed that since I had known Guy casually for a few years prior- that I really knew him. I was wrong. Guy put on an excellent facade for everyone but the people closest to him in his life.

I allowed Guy to move in with me and my son after maybe four months of dating. The only warning signs that Guy wasn’t a good guy were that he didn’t seem to have any friends and that he was definitely abusing substances. Alcohol and pain medication. But I let this go because he was a functional addict. I also didn’t realize the extent of his drug abuse until he moved in. I looked at the drinking and pain pills as a “oh he’s just having some fun on the weekend thing”.

As soon as he moved into my two bedroom condo, he scheduled back surgery. He went to great lengths to show me what was wrong with his back and why he needed surgery. I found that odd but again, just thought “okay he’s a little quirky”.

He showed me who he really was when I went to visit him at the hospital following his surgery. He was bitter, angry, hostile and extremely drugged. As a nurse myself- I was kind of shocked at how drugged he was. After some angry remarks that didn’t make a lot of sense to me at the time, I decided to not stay at the hospital for very long and went home, confused.

I tried to think “okay so he’s drugged and vulnerable”, that’s normal, right? Well yes I guess it was normal for him. He left the hospital the next day- with a cache of pain medication that made him seem like he was planning to open up his own pain clinic. He had every kind of pain medication imaginable. And in large quantities. Again, as a nurse, I was shocked. I’ve had surgery and given birth- the most I’ve gotten was a few Vicodins for a couple days.

Guy had everything. Percocet, Vicodin, ocycontin. And more that I don’t even know the names of. He hid the painkillers in the bedroom from everyone and proceeded to basically camp out in a reclining chair in the living room for the next two weeks while he took copious amounts of drugs and drank too. And he expected to be waited on. And he wasn’t very polite about it either. This is when I started to have serious doubts about the situation.

After he “recovered”- he seemed more the way he was initially again. He liked to shop, go out to eat fancy food and generally hang around very expensive places. He and I never had any meaningful conversations. I tried. He wasn’t interested in current events, politics, philosophy- none of that. Our conversations were almost small talk. He could be funny at times though.

After a while, I started to notice that he would have temper tantrums. Sometimes he would refuse to speak to me for something I said or did and I wouldn’t even know what the cause was. He hated that I worked full time. He often demanded that I spend less time at work. He also hated that I liked to rest on Sundays (my only day off). The list of things he hated about me seemed to grow and grow daily. He hated my friends. He hated my clothes. He started telling me how to dress and what kind of makeup to wear. He stopped cleaning at all. He would make a mess and then leave for me to clean up.

He started faking seizures. I actually believed he was having a seizure during an argument and called an ambulance. He made an instantaneous and remarkable recovery the moment the emergency personnel arrived. He never pretended to have a seizure again.

It seemed like he was going picking at me about everything. Nothing I did was right. I stopped talking to him and then he would criticize my eyebrow plucking. Things were very tense. All the time.

Throughout this decay of the “relationship”, I was under the mistaken impression that he and my son had formed a significant bond and that it would be wrong for me to break up with him. That I should try and stick it out for my son.

I never met Guy’s mother, but I spoke with her regularly. She was in an assisted living home in Georgia and it sounded as if she was terminally ill. I begged Guy to go and visit her. I said I would take time off work, I would even pay for the flight. He didn’t want to. I was flabbergasted but the way he blew it off- I thought “maybe he’s right? Maybe it’s not as bad as she says?”

Then I got pregnant. Guy was not happy. Not happy at all. He was very annoyed at the “inconvenience” and questioned whether or not I was “making it up”. At this point, I was feeling confused about his behavior towards me but I didn’t know it was abusive because he had only hit me one time.

During that short pregnancy, I couldn’t sleep but I was exhausted. I was excited about being pregnant but I couldn’t understand why Guy wasn’t. He and I had spoken early on in the relationship- I had said I wanted another child and he had said he wanted to become a parent.

After a month of pregnancy, I began to bleed and I knew it was over. I went to a gynecologist and brought Guy with me to confirm that I was no longer pregnant. The gynecologist called it a “chemical pregnancy” probably trying to make me feel better. He decided that meant that I had never been pregnant at all. And he told me, my family and anyone who would listen that I invented a pregnancy.

I was baffled and grieving. I couldn’t even think about why he was behaving this way. Also during this time, the way he treated me became more callous. We went to see a therapist together. The therapist ended up telling me that she wouldn’t see the two of us together and that I should come in on my own to deal with his abuse. I couldn’t process that at the time.

Whenever he was around, he was critical, mean, calling me names and insisting that I needed to be treated for my “extreme mental health condition”. I recognized that I needed mental health support- but I also realized that it was due the grief over the loss of the baby and the way he treated me. I voluntarily went into a psych unit for a few days. While I was there, a friend of mine sat me down and said “what are you doing here? There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t belong here”. And I realized she was right.

I was overworked, stressed out and in a bad relationship but I wasn’t in need of being institutionalized. I realized that I needed to make some changes in my life. I quit my stressful job first and decided that I would end the relationship with Guy as soon as I got home.

But that’s not what happened. Not exactly. I let Guy have sex with me one time while I was working up my nerve to end it. To Guy, ending the relationship was a negotiation. It wasn’t just my choice. He once again tried to convince me of my mental instability, but this time, I knew he was being manipulative. Because he was basically refusing to leave, I made him sleep in my sons bedroom while my son slept in my bedroom. I figured out that Guy was abusive when I saw him fake crying and I did an internet search on it and came out with “crocodile tears and other manipulations”. I flat out told Guy that he was abusive and I was done.

Guy agreed to live elsewhere for some time. During this time that he was gone, I began to have symptoms of pregnancy. It was unmistakable. I know my body. I knew I was pregnant again.

Guy had agreed to return and change his ways. I told him I might be pregnant. He didn’t seem affected one way or another. I took a test and it was positive. I told him and he was indifferent. I told his mother and she was thrilled.

Because of the pregnancy, I hoped that things with Guy could improve. That he might be more considerate and…nice. But he wasn’t. He became more cruel, more judgmental, more controlling, more critical. He was insulting me daily about literally every move I made. Why was I tired? Why would I get annoyed that he refused to clean up after himself? Why did I need to speak to my friends? He wanted to completely “manage” the pregnancy, while at the same time expressing that he believed that I was “faking it” again. Why did I care that he was leaving his firearms and shells around the condo with my 7 year old son?

He was telling me I should have an abortion. He was trying to get me to drink alcohol and take drugs. And he claimed he didn’t understand why that would upset me.

I had enough one evening. We were arguing and I got so angry that I yelled at him. I realized at this point that he needed to leave. I would sort the rest out later. He said that if I told him to leave, he would call the police and tell them that I need to be institutionalized. I said “go ahead and call, just get out of here”.

I called my mother right away, crying. I told her what had happened and what he had said. Five minutes later, the police were at my door demanding to know what was going on.

Turns out, he had planned the entire call ahead of time with a therapist who he had seen under my name. A therapist that had never met me. He asked her who to have someone institutionalized against their will. He said I was a danger to myself and the baby. And that’s what he told the police too. I explained to the police that I had just asked him to leave and that I was no threat to myself or others. They told me I should consider getting a restraining order against him. They said this was “a common ploy”.

My son witnessed most of this. And that was the reason that I refused to reconsider allowing Guy back into my life at that point. My son was clearly traumatized and so was I. I later found out from family members that he had been calling them for months without my knowledge and telling them I was so delusional that I was faking pregnancies.

Guy did not go quietly. He called me all day, every day. Sometimes insulting me, sometimes begging me to give him another chance. He emailed me, texted me, called all my friends and family. He was showing up at places that I frequented. I became scared of him. My gynecologist told me that for the health of the baby, I needed peace from this harassment.

I was exhausted but I ended up filing for a harassment restraining order. It was granted. He filed for his own but was denied. Probably because I wasn’t harassing him. He then challenged my order- dragging me back into court 5 months pregnant. I was so stressed out, afraid and traumatized, I wasn’t sure that I would be able to carry the baby to term.

I considered abortion. Almost everyone I knew told me to have one. But I refused to let Guy make the decision for me. I couldn’t end the life inside of me. I kept her. But I was afraid for the future. I was afraid of how Guy would come back and try to control and abuse me again. I hoped he wouldn’t. But I had a sense that he would.

The baby came an entire month early. It was a difficult pregnancy. Less than one month after delivery- I was served a summons that Guy wanted to split custody of the premature baby 50/50. He had never cared for a baby before, let alone a premature one.

Thus began the battle for my daughter. I wasn’t willing to let him have her on his own at first. She was breastfeeding and very fragile. I went to lawyer after lawyer, bringing the baby with me in freezing cold conditions.

More to come…

How the Abuser Will Take Your Child

Firstly, they will isolate you but be discussing you (unbeknownst to you) with your family and friends. He will be telling them that you are psychologically unstable so that when you admit the abuse- people won’t believe you because they will think “well we were warned that she’s losing it”.

The image a “smart” or “covert” abuser will use is very pleasant, calm, friendly and approachable. He won’t show how he really is to anyone but family members or household members. Everyone will think that he’s a great guy because he saves his abuse for when there are no witnesses.

Even with evidence of abuse and harassment, courts will not care. I am not sure how bad the abuse has to be for courts to take it seriously but they certainly do not care about verbal, emotional, or low level physical abuse. They will pretend that the abuse was mutual.

The abuser can be very charming and never loses his cool in public. But when he is at home- he will do and say the most horrible things imaginable. The children fear him. The children are afraid to speak out. So the healthy parent speaks out. And is promptly discredited for any number of reasons but the healthy parent will be discredited.

Courts are not interested in the best interest of the child. Lawyers are not interested in the best interest of the child.

It’s a catch-22. You speak up about what’s happened- you’re a liar. You stay quiet- why didn’t you say something?

The abuser will wear away at your energy, he will send you messages upon messages upon messages accusing you of things you haven’t done. You don’t know whether to respond or not but the intention is to wear you down.

If your lawyer is not good, you will lose no matter what.

Did my best really

Shoshana your dad pushed me out. I couldn’t take it. not after what I knew: I just couldn’t: I knee nobody would help you: maybe if I don’t live it could help? I’ve Reid everything else. Your father- is hurting you; that it what you say. I wish I could help: nobody will listen to me,

I pray and hope God gives you the most strength ever:

Deserve better: not a world I ever felt welcomed in. Not ever. By anyone- always been on the outside scared to look in.

Finally the Truth: Covid-19 Vaccines are Ineffective and Harmful

Johnson and Johnson Covid vaccines finally pulled for causing too many blood clots- see links below. Some articles and authors are claiming that this is “rare” but if it is so rare- why has it been pulled off the market? Do not believe that blood clots are rare. It’s just not true.

Yale medicine: https://www.yalemedicine.org/news/coronavirus-vaccine-blood-clots

Johnson and Johnson vaccine finally pulled off the market in the US:

https://www.fiercepharma.com/pharma/its-end-line-jjs-covid-shot-us-cdc-says

And do not believe websites with blanket claims of safety over Yale Medicine or the Lancet. See this “fact check” attempt to downplay or outright lie about the supposed safety of the vaccines:

https://factcheck.afp.com/doc.afp.com.32EZ82K

So it’s not safe…is it effective? Research says no:

Effectiveness in preventing disease decreased by 50% after only a month following receipt of the Covid-19 vaccine:

https://abcnews.go.com/amp/Health/covid-vaccine-effectiveness-omicron-fell-20-after-6/story?id=99072898

Lancet reports that there is no difference in transmission between people who have had the vaccine and who have not:

https://www.thelancet.com/journals/laninf/article/PIIS1473-3099(21)00768-4/fulltext

Many studies claiming safety and/or effectiveness have been sponsored by the manufacturers themselves. This is obviously a conflict of interest. Note also that there are nearly no studies that include a control group of unvaccinated people to compare outcomes. So what are the claims of effectiveness based on?

Fentanyl Deaths- a Personal Account

Many of us get sick during cold and flu season and sometimes we get so sick that we have trouble dragging ourselves out of the house or have difficulty being prescribed antibiotics.

In this fast paced “nobody has time to be sick or recover” culture- people are generally expected to work through illnesses. Which has helped boost the prescribing of antibiotics to hasten our recovery.

But many of us have trouble getting in to be seen or even being seen, then being told to rest. Unfortunately, most employers, children, society just doesn’t accept that. So we count on antibiotics to help us get better faster.

I was recently told by a coworker that I should use an online unlicensed pharmacy located in another country so that I could have antibiotics on hand. I am an RN, I am not an doctor, I am not supposed to diagnose myself or others but I’ve had enough sinus infections to know when I need antibiotics.

I ran this idea past my mother- thinking that as resourceful as she is- she would already have a reputable online pharmacy. What she told me was shocking.

She immediately began to rant about how a friend of my brothers had ordered from an online pharmacy- what he ordered- she claimed not to know but what he got was something laced with enough Fentanyl to kill him and nearly kill two of his friends at the same time.

I went to my father to confirm this shocking report, and he said he did not know where the drugs came from- but he did know that the man who died had been planning to buy amphetamines- not fentanyl.

My father and one of my brothers were the most devastated by this event because they had both know this man for most of his life. My brother and the man (approximately 35 years old at the time of his death) had been school age friends with my brother for decades and he had spent years working freelance with my father doing odd jobs.

Although the death seemed to come out of left field, I was aware that this man was an alcoholic- a chronic one. He could not get his life together and he could not control his drinking at all. The shocking part of all this was that I had expected if the guy ever died, it would be a slow, alcohol poisoning death and not something so unexpected and swift.

I doubt that this guy was suicidal. He was with two friends doing what they thought was meth for fun, I assume. Nobody could confirm where they got the drugs for certain but one thing was for sure- that they did not intend to buy fentanyl.

A few weeks back, a doctor that I see regularly and have been seeing for years suddenly refused to refill a medication I’ve been taking for years until I could get in for an appointment. The first available appointment was over a month away. During this time, I searched online pharmacies out of desperation so that I wouldn’t be in a state of withdrawl for the coming month. I have a career, children- I can’t just go off a physically addictive medication and go on as if everything is fine.

What’s scary about this is that I don’t use “drugs”. Street drugs. I don’t even smoke weed. I have nothing against it- it just makes me paranoid and way too thirsty. So when you think of people dying from fentanyl- it may not be the caricature of the “drug addict” or alcoholic or person who doesn’t have their shit together. It may just be an average single mom, an RN working full time who was yanked off physically addictive medication for no reason having to find a replacement so that she can continue to take care of her kids and work.

Now that we know fentanyl can be anything from antibiotics to marijuana, the entire landscape has changed. We really have no idea what is in these drugs and the increase in reliance on pharmaceutical companies and doctors is frightening.