When I began writing this blog, I wasn't sure how or when I would be able to tell this part of our story. I didn't know if I would have the strength to type the words. I wondered if after I told my story, if people would start avoiding me and labeling me. I pray that is not the case, but it is a chance I'm willing to take. Please remember, I am sharing this in an effort to help others by raising awareness for mental health. Please be kind with you words, even if I can't hear them.
A few days ago, a sweet friend of mine posted the 1st picture on my facebook wall. It was encouraging. I thought just maybe I could do the abuse blog soon.... Saturday night as Perry and I were discussing what we were each going to "fast" during the 21 days of Prayer and Fasting, I told him I was giving up shopping, except for necessities like groceries. We both talked about how hard that was going to be since honestly I don't usually go a day without buying something for someone, myself, or the house. It then crossed my mind, if I can go three weeks without shopping - I can tell this part of our story. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I REALLY am a shopaholic! As I read my morning devotional Sunday on radical obedience by Lysa TerKeurst, I had another nudge pushing me toward sharing this dark, ugly part of our lives. Finally, Sunday morning in church as I listened to the pastor, I didn't feel a nudge, I felt more of a shove telling me to share this.
When my last blog ended, it was the summer of 2012. Josh had started intensive outpatient rehab at Bradford for his drug abuse. I was recovering slowly from my series of unfortunate medical events starting with a fall at work, leading to a blood clot in my right leg and multiple blood clots in both lungs. During this time, cardiac testing was performed to discover I had a congenital heart defect. Let's not forget, I almost died as a complication of the testing! Perry and I were reuniting like oil and water. To say things were messy and chaotic would be an understatement. The only time I didn't hurt physically and emotionally is when I was asleep. I was feeling slightly better physically, but I was so frustrated I couldn't breathe! I went from running up to five miles a day, to not being able to walk across a parking lot. All I wanted to do, was sleep through all the pain. My depression was worse than ever.
June 27, 2012 is a day I will never forget. I was at home in the bed asleep with Perry. He was still working nights. It was mid-morning. Sam was at physical therapy for a knee injury. Josh was at the dentist. Sam often provided transportation for both of them because it was much cooler to be dropped off by your brother, than by your mom. I received a call from DHR. The lady on the phone told me I needed to call and have my children return home immediately. She stated she would be arriving at our house shortly for an evaluation. I was dumbfounded. What was going on? DHR? My children barely had spankings! They were both spoiled rotten. What in the world was this about?
I did as instructed and called for both boys to return home. Shortly after, a DHR social worker comes to our house. She speaks to Perry and I first while the boys are in their rooms. I'm so confused. She isn't asking me about their needs being met. She isn't asking me about abusing them. She is asking me about my mental health issues. She is asking me about my recent physical issues. She is asking me about how much pain medicine I take and if I drink alcohol. I give her all of my prescription medicines. At this time, I wasn't taking any psychiatric meds. Once I was fired from being Dr. P's patient, I didn't have any way to get my prescriptions refilled.Although I had a prescription for pain meds, I wasn't taking them. The only prescription medicine I was taking was ambien so I could sleep as much as possible. She also speaks to Perry, but he isn't questioned as extensively as I am. The boys are both interviewed separately and privately in their rooms. After several hours, the social worker comes out. She tells me, she has just cause to investigate us. I was in total shock.
I was instructed to go the following day to have a drug screen performed.
I was also instructed to call a family member who the boys would be able to stay with for the night. She informed me to call someone who would have extra room and wasn't elderly or in poor health. I did as she instructed. I honestly should've known this was something already in the making with the way this family member answered the phone. We were never super close, and this person certainly wouldn't have been my first choice to call. However, they fit the criteria DHR set for me and I thought I could trust them. This person's name is going to be the Governor.
I was crying hysterically, as the boys were packing a few things. I was begging the social worker to tell me who called DHR. I was asking Perry if he thought it was someone in his family. Suddenly, Josh began screaming at me. He told me it was him. He told me he reported me to Bradford because "I was f-ing crazy". He didn't want to live with me anymore. He said he wanted to live with my mom, but he knew I wouldn't let him. He said he knew this was the quickest way out of our house since I had put him in rehab. I was in total disbelief. The social worker listened to Josh admit this, but she still took them to the Governor's house.
The rest of the day is a blur. My friend Deedee came over. All I can remember is curling in a ball with my head in her lap and crying. I don't remember sleeping. I don't remember eating. I remember the phone call from DHR telling Perry and I we had an emergency hearing the following day at Family Court. I'm not even sure Perry and I spoke the rest of the day. I can't even remember if he stayed at the house. I just kept thinking there was no way my boys could be taken. I had seen abused children. My boys weren't abused. When I think of DHR, I think of all of the abused children who are placed back at home, only to end up dead. Watch the Trials of Gabriel Fernandez on Netflix if you haven't seen it. It's a true story documentary on what a wonderful (sarcasm) system DHR truly is.
The following morning, Deedee took me for my drug screen. I wanted to have it early so the results could be presented to court that afternoon. I knew it would be clean. I was still in such a state of stupor. In all honesty, it's been almost ten years and it's still shocking, humiliating, and horrifying.
Our emergency hearing had arrived. I had found an attorney that was a friend of a friend (zero star recommendation). We arrived and I wasn't even allowed to hug or talk to my boys. They were kept in a room apart from us. Thankfully I had a friend with me at the hearing. Once again, it is all a blur. I didn't really understand much in the courtroom. There are a only a few moments I remember. I remember the betrayal I felt when I heard the Governor telling the judge they 'just want me to get better', after telling the judge how horrible their opinion of me was. When the hearing was over, we had lost custody temporarily. Our boys were to stay with the Governor until the next hearing. We were both only allowed supervised telephone calls and visitation. There is not a word to describe the devastation I felt. The pain of losing custody of my boys was worse than any physical pain I had (or have) ever experienced.
After the hearing, several things were brought to my attention. I had not physically abused my boys, but I had been doing things while on ambien I was unaware of. Ambien is a prescription medication I was taking for sleep. Some of the bizarre side effects of ambien according to healthline.com are decreased awareness, hallucinations, changes in behavior, memory problems, sleepwalking, sleep eating (and cooking), and even sleep driving. While Perry was at work, I had been going to the boys rooms at night and cursing at them. The issue I have with this is NO ONE told me! By this time it was too late. The court system, nor the Governor cared if this was ambien induced or not. I was told a few other things I said and did; however, I have no recollection of any of it.
I honestly didn't know how I would function. I felt literally and metaphorically like I couldn't breathe. I was praying for this nightmare to end, when it only continued to get worse. After returning home, Perry drops another bombshell. He HAD been telling someone all along he only married me to be with the boys again. Now the boys were gone, he didn't want to be together. I felt as if my entire world stopped spinning in that one instant. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't do anything but cry silently. The only positive is I now knew without a doubt the anonymous texter was backstabbing bitch (BB), my former friend.
Kay came and helped me. In looking back, I don't remember if I packed or if she packed for me. I remember taking my dog, Clara Bell. I remember trying to communicate with my boys so many times. The answer from the Governor was always the same, "They don't want to talk to you now". I did have one Governor supervised dinner with the boys and Perry. It was horrible! I was so nervous! I ran from the table to vomit. The Governor met me in the hall and lashed out at me for making a scene. I was then told this would be my last meeting with my boys. Once outside the restaurant, in front of the boys, it was all hugs and comments such as, "I just want you to get the help you need. I love you!" I'm surprised I didn't vomit again.
I tried to not be pathetic and beg Perry for us to make it work. I wasn't successful. Kay tried to help. If she heard me begging, she would take my phone away. Perry once compared me to a computer pop-up that wouldn't close. He said I was like the box that kept saying, "Are you sure you want to exit?" I'm not sure if I wanted some normalcy back. I don't know if it was my pride. I didn't want my happily ever after to end here and end like a horror story. Whatever the case, I just couldn't let it go, until one day I gave up and let it all go.
I'm sure some of you are thinking there has to be more to this story. I know many of you are doubting mental illness and ambien induced cursing would be enough to lose custody. You are wrong. I'm living proof.
According to the law offices of Rosen and Rosen, in 2018 statistics have shown that the rates for loss of custody from parents with mental illnesses can be as high as 80 percent. As a result, parents with mental illnesses, lose custody of their kids to the other parent, a relative or the state with greater frequency than those parents who were not diagnosed with mental health issues. Per freelegaladvice.com, if one parent has a history of mental illness, this may suggest to the court that the parent cannot provide a safe home environment and that it is not in the best interests of the child to live with that parent or to visit that parent regularly. To determine if this is the case, the court will assess what form the mental illness takes, and whether it interferes with the parent’s ability to parent. If the mental illness makes it impossible for the parent to provide a reasonable level of care to the child, then the court may award either limited visitation, supervised visitation, or no visitation at all.
I know you are all asking why didn't I just leave and let Perry have custody of the boys? I offered immediately. Unfortunately, I was being accused of child abuse and neglect because of my mental illness and resulting actions. Perry was being accused of neglect because he was aware of the situation and left the boys in my care.
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