My first thought for this blog was gonna be Hemmingford Home. Some of you might have figured out that I am a fan of Stephen King.  Not this new King, but the old I think he was smoking meth when he wrote King.  Hemmingford Home is from the Stan.  It’s likely my favorite single King novel, where the Dark Tower Series is my fave of the multiples. Hemmingford Home is an actual city in Nebraska.  I think the population is about 2,000.

One of the commonalities of both The Stand and the Dark Tower is the presence of Randall Flagg or the Man in Black.  Another common thread is the questioning of the presence of ‘god’.

Some of you believe in a higher power which mentions a virgin birth and a man living in the belly of a whale for days.  I do not.  The thing about your faith though is that it usually doesn’t require another to believe it, you simply have faith that it is true.

3 years ago today, right at about this time, I was getting up from a table at a Dunkin Donuts. This was not one of my then normal Dunkin.  This was across the street from the Germantown Crisis Center.  I’d left there about an hour prior.  I knew that I had to go to Limekiln Pike, but I didn’t know what I was going to do there.

I knew that I had to get back to my Bonnie, but I had no idea how to explain that which transpired.

October 31, 2014 was the day they removed my Clyde from my custody. I’d had to watch his hysterical screams as they drove away with him in the back of a CPS van.  I had to call my best friend and stand in only 1 spot until she got there.  I was afraid I was going to walk in front of a bus if I did not.

While I was waiting for her to arrive, to keep me “safe” DHS called me to explain they needed me at the crisis center.  They could not explain why my Clyde was so hysterical and there was nothing they could do to calm him down.  Their protocol was to take him to a psychiatric evaluation.  Apparently no one seems to have a protocol for when you yank a loved child away from his mother, who’s never spent more the 3 consecutive nights away from him, and put him into a car with people he did not know.  Apparently he’s not supposed to go ape shit.

I spent hours there trying to get my Clyde to understand what was happening.  I didn’t really understand what was happening.  For 11 days prior they’d allowed my Clyde to sleep in his own bed, and on October 31 they moved the goal posts. Instead of saying, ok we see the financial difficulties, and we see how you got here…..lets assit you with this electric bill and get you some financial classes and monitor you.  Their answer was instead take her son.

3 years later I can see Limekiln Pike for what it had become, then all I could see was black.

I was not mentally healthy then.  I am not mentally healthy now in some ways, but I mange my multiple diagnosis.  I was past the point I could manage Bonnie & Clyde.  Love is never enough, and the two of them were killing me.  In my dedication to care for them I was dying.  I’d had 2 life threatening emergencies, both of which escalated because I was so busy caring for time I ignored myself.

I will never, ever agree that what happened was for the best.  I cannot because of the pain it caused those who I love.  My pain is my constant skin, their pain was and is ongoing without merit.

When a would allow small glimpses of her character to be seen, the signs of her regency were there.  I was foolish enough to think I would never feel them personally.  I am thankful that B never suffered in a similar manner. I suppose there is some level of humanity within her which once she realized just how far her torment of me reached found a measure of grace.

Or it could be that she understood that hurting me would also hurt him.

Or she could just be a sociopath.

There were six total people on this earth who knew they details and specifics of Limekiln Pike. One is me. Two cannot talk.  Of the remaining 3 there is B and my spoon.  The fourth was a.

The aide who came to assist me with Bonnie knew about the utilities, but it was the other accusation in the initial complaint that narrowed the possibilities.

“She frequents a website which promotes fantasies of adult men having sexual relationships with little girls.”

That website was Fetlife, the group was Pretty Black Daughter, and that is not an accurate description of the purpose of the group, my presence in the group, or me.

Pretty Black Daughter was never about adults looking for sex with children.  Everyone in that group was 18 and over, and my kink relating to my little is not about Hebephilia. In short, it was a lie.

In length it was the day, then the night, which eventually led to my suicide attempt on November 1, the loss of my family home, my being homeless, Bonnie now living in a nursing home, and my inability to ever enter the state of Iowa because I will never be sure that I can contain my rage.

I had to rebuild my entire life after October 31, 2017.  There was NOTHING left. All I had was the hope that one day my family could be reunited. Even that hope does not remain because my Bonnie will never live with me again.

3 years later I am sitting at a table in my apartment. I am writing this blog and weeping.

I am writing though.

When Greyhound fired me I was terrified that all of the progress of the last 3 years was for nothing.  I would end up back at November 1, 2014 in the most evil version of Groundhog Day imaginable.

Even though I have not found the ability to return to my Buddhist practice, somewhere along this way I found faith again.

I found the faith that I’d worked too hard on me, too hard for my family, for it to be lost to me forever.  My brief flirtation with X gave me faith that I could once again find that connection that I was not sure existed outside the space of Gei. Even though they’ve moved these goal posts yet AGAIN, I have faith that I will eventually score.

I know that I will, because I can look at all that I’ve done these past 3 years and know that NOTHING is impossible now.  Slow as fuck perhaps but not impossible. I am also making better choices, not repeating ALL of my previous mistakes. Yeah I still fuck up. Yeah I will fuck up again.

For today though, I have faith.

Aphrodite will be back next entry, but I leave you tonight Constant Reader with

 

 

Nicole