A Dime a Dozen

One of the most stark realities of going through the court system

with: divorce, protective orders, contempt of court, po violations, victim’s coordinators, witness coordinators, parent coordinators, parent evaluators, visitation monitors, social workers, Child Protective Services, therapists, Circuit Judges, District Judges, States Attorney’s Office, Best Interest Attorneys, Attorneys, Masters, Mediators, Detectives, Police Officers, Sheriff’s Officers, discovery paperwork, interrogatories, copies of every bit of paperwork that may potentially define you (bank statements, mortgage statements, medical records, bill statements, daily activity logs etc), and reiterating your story a bajillion times to everyone and anyone, as if you have never told it before…

it is F’IN exhausting, uber full-time and you are not one bit unique from thousands of other women and children trying to extricate themselves from an abusive situation.

 

We are a dime a dozen to all of those professionals.

They see us multiple times a day.

 

We are overwhelmed and out of balance because our situations are so real and unique to us.  This belief that we are unique, is a great lie that we tell ourselves.

We are not unique.

 

Do you know how many women you personally know who have been sexually abused, emotionally abused, physically abused, financially abused? I challenge you to ask in your family, or your closest friends, if you cannot think of anyone off the top of your head.  I guarantee that you know someone who has been abused.

 

We follow in the tragic footsteps of countless women who have gone before us.  Some in situations where they found justice and survived.  More in situations that bent towards whichever way the current power and control swing was going.  Others ending up dead as a result of abuse.

 

As we continue on this great human shift away from a patriarchal society, which I believe we are on (another post, another day), I hope that we all continue to speak our truths and share our stories loudly – even when we have no hope for justice, even when we have no hope for safety.

 

This is our war and I am betting that, despite losing battles here and there, we win the long race.

 

We are a dime a dozen, but each of our dozen wield mighty and powerful voices, deceptively couched in that lowly dime.  We are slowly building, stack by stack, until we outnumber those lone one-in-a-million voices who attempt to stop us.

 

I am cheering your truth on!  Good job, YOU – go, YOU, GO!

 

Love, Ms. Herisme xoxo

pssst… Donate to your local domestic violence shelter today and reach out to a friend today

Weekly Penance

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In the Game of Courts, your attorney versus his attorney, you must be willing to suspend disbelief and all sense of what you know as truth and logic, in order to survive.

 

Much like you do when watching a popular HBO series.

 

You must also retain the ability to blithely travel back and forth in your history, even to other lands, as others will rewrite and redefine everything you have known, even about yourself and your child(ren) as truth.

 

Much like a character in a popular Showtime (or is it Starz?) series.

 

Anywho – fun!  Right?  WRONG

 

At the end of it all, going through a divorce with an abusive spouse is as ridiculous and insane as believing any of those television shows is true.

 

Yet, throughout the entirety of the process, you will be surrounded by people trying to convince you, no, actually, DEMANDING that you accept time travel, zombies, dragon-riding queens, and magically clean/fully-toothed Scottish warriors from the 18th Century, are real and accessible.

 

They will insist that you are anxiety-ridden, overprotective, and therefore incompetent parent (all the while your future ex sits there smugly and accuses you of these things)

 

They will insist that you are sexually promiscuous, potentially introducing your child(ren) to a pornographic lifestyle, and therefore an unfit parent (all the while your future ex sits there smugly and accuses you of these things)

 

They will insist that you are the one who has abused your child and your spouse, and therefore an unfit parent (all the while your future ex sits there smugly and accuses you of these things)

 

They will insist that you are a lazy incompetent willfully unemployed person who is reckless with money, and therefore an unfit parent (all the while your future ex sits there smugly and accuses you of these things)

 

They will insist that you are unstable and unreliable in all areas of your life, and therefore an unfit parent (all the while your future ex sits there smugly and accuses you of these things)

 

Divorce from an abusive person is a disgusting disorienting process.

Because abusive people are disgusting and disorienting.

 

This is how it came to be that every week, I am court ordered to pay penance for my compliance in allowing an abusive and ill man to father my child.

 

Every week, I have to send an email to MrexH, MrexH’s caregiver, SonHerisme’s attorney, and my attorney.  The email has to include facts and positive comments about SonHerisme.  Including a picture is optional.

 

Every week, I sit down and compose the same email, with a sequentially numbered attachment containing 2 facts and 2 positive comments about SonHerisme.  Each school report card period, I attach a photo of the report card (at the request of SonHerisme’s attorney).  I have also, on occasion, included a photo of SonHerisme’s school work.

 

SonHerisme has been asked many times over the past few years, by Social Workers, a variety of Therapists, Attorneys, Counselors, Friends, and Family members, if he wants to say something to his father, send something to his father, or hear something from his father.  SonHerisme has always been consistent that he does not want to do any of those things.

 

Because of this, I have never felt comfortable telling SonHerisme that I am obligated to do this weekly penance.

I have never sent pictures of SonHerisme.

After our divorce was final (FINALLY), I stopped including pictures of SonHerisme’s work.  It just doesn’t feel right.

If SonHerisme doesn’t want to send copies of his personal works, I do not feel it is my place to override his wishes.  Since MrexH has a legal right, as SonHerisme’s parent, to have access to school records, if he chooses, so I do include SonHerisme’s report cards.

 

My weekly penance typically looks something like this:

 

Facts about SonHerisme:

  1. SonHerisme attended school every day this week
  2. SonHerisme was healthy all week.

 

Positive comments about SonHerisme:

  1. SonHerisme made progress with his math works
  2. SonHerisme is proud of his forms

 

 

This is court ordered under the guise of me maintaining my cooperation in keeping MrexH informed and a part of SonHerisme’s life.

See how cooperative and encouraging I am?

I have sent 39 of these reports to date.

So consistent.

So compliant.

So still up to me to maintain, negotiate and navigate this relationship *sigh*

(Here is where an attorney would threaten me with having to pay a professional to do weekly evaluations and reports, or lose my sole legal and physical custody, if I cannot comply or if I speak about how ridiculous this process is)

 

I am sending information about my young child to someone who is basically a complete stranger to us.  Someone who is so ill and unstable that he is unable to care for himself.  Someone abusive, with a legal trail of court recognized abuse.

 

These are things that might never occur to you to consider before your life is ripped apart.

 

Sometimes I feel like an asshole sending this report.

Most of the time, it feels like my punishment.

A weekly grim reminder of the truly unfortunate and sad circumstances of our situations.

 

My weekly penance.

Love, Ms. Herisme xo

 

 

*POOF*

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Hardly anyone phones me up.

This is NOT a plea for anyone to call me on the telephone.  I am horrible on the telephone.  Without physical conversation cues, I’m all flustered with silences, weird pauses, speaking over each other, dropping the phone and then explaining how the phone dropped, wandering mind, etc

 

Actually, even with physical conversation cues, I am quite awkward.

 

Anywho…

 

When my telephone buzzes (I rarely have the sound on because the noise is too jarring for me – and, yes ALL the ringtones are jarring to my sensitive ears, including harp, but thank you for the suggestion), and I do not recognize the incoming number, I do not answer the telephone.

 

There is always this lingering worry that it will be MrexH, or someone in his family, and they will be angry and horrid with me, MrexH might express his interest in murdering me again.  Or something awful has happened and a Police Officer, State Trooper, or even worse, my attorney, is contacting me with the bad news.  I am not ready for any of those things – again.

 

Or, it could be a telemarketer, and I do not want to speak with them either.

 

Last week, my telephone rang in the morning, with an incoming number that I do not know – however, this was a number for my city/state.  ALARM BELLS went off in my brain and I let the phone ring 4 times before I decided to bite the bullet of fear and answer the telephone.

 

It was the assistant from my attorney’s office.

Uh-Oh

As soon as I heard her voice, my stomach split in two and dropped into my legs.

 

The call was benign, as calls go.  But, it took me a while to calm down just from the stress of contact with my attorney’s office.  The office assistant is a lovely person, and has gone out of her way to be kind and welcoming to me.  It’s the whole idea of knowing why we have a relationship at all, that is upsetting.

 

She wanted me to stop by the office and pick up some hard copies from my divorce case, and decide if there was anything that I wanted to keep.

We set up a time for me to do that.

I drove into my little downtown, parked in the courthouse parking deck, and walked to my attorney’s office across the street.

 

By this time, my mind was completely blank and numb.  I have to go into this space of, “What would Oprah do right now?” and just keep moving forward.  Oprah would just jay-walk across that one-way street in front of the courthouse and all of those parked police vehicles, and be confident in her stride into her attorney’s office.  Or was it Dr. Phil’s office that she strode confidently into?  It was somewhere, and Dr. Phil was there, the cattle farmers lost their case against Oprah, and Dr. Phil got his own show as a side bonus!

 

I did the jay-walk thing, minus the confident stride, and plus twisting my hair into a giant knot on top of my head as I walked because it was ridiculously hot and humid – so also minus any of Oprah’s presence or finesse.

 

The paperwork consisted of a 5 inch thick stack.

 

It was too nervewracking for me to stay in the office and look through the daunting stack, so I said my, “thank-you”s, and skeedaddled out of there.

 

I felt more confident walking back to my car, because I had an impressive stack of papers to hold – like a comfort blankie.

More Linus than Oprah.

Out of that stack of papers, the only piece that seemed worth saving was the less than 1/4inch bound deposition of MrexH official transcript.

That transcript = $640

Just for the copy of the transcript.

 

This amount does not include the cost of my attorney’s time, SonHerisme attorney’s time, or my time, or my severe emotional strain, or the stupid (yet delicious) take-out tomato soup I stepped out to eat at our lunch break, OR my parking costs…

 

Ugh

So. Much. F’in. Money.

Just gone.

*POOF*

 

The rest of the paperwork?

I shoved it into the chiminea at 10am and had myself a lil’ ol’ bonfahr

*POOF*

 

Sadly, no marshmallows were consumed.

This fiery episode sounds like it should have been cathartic.  It was not.  I did not feel anything other than now I did not have to file the remainder of the papers.

*POOF*

Do not panic if you are unable to reach me by telephone.  I have not disappeared, although some days I would like to do so.  I am only nervous and awkward and frightened and concerned.

 *POOF*

 

I wish I could magic all of that away too!

Love, Ms. Herisme xo

ps.  Thank you, oh great tribe of friends, for sticking with me!

 

 

 

 

Welcome to My House

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Open up the champagne, pop!
It’s my house, come on, turn it up

 It’s okay to nod your head to Flo Rida

 

In speaking with a friend today, I realized that we all live in our own little houses of logic.

 

While our logic may seem natural, sound and accepted truths among our like-minded peoples, it can be supremely difficult when your house of logic is trashed to bits by people with different values, beliefs, logics.  Especially when those people are involved with deciding your, or children’s, safety and future (lawyers, social workers etc).

 

You can swing the doors to your house of logic wide open, offer the best snacks, drinks, entertainment, hospitality etc, and throw in swag bags to boot.

The hardest part is figuring out how to get

those people who are not willing to step inside your house of logic,

to just take that first step inside.

It feels like if you can entice them to get one foot over the threshold, they would totally see, understand, believe in, and champion your logic.

 

Unfortunately, lawyers, social workers, judges, therapists, etc are all paid handsomely to stay out of your house of logic. No matter how compelling it is to them personally, they will avoid going inside.  They are there to see the larger world around your house of logic, and make the best decisions they can, within the confines of the law and their professional ethics.

 Despite all of this,

I encourage you all to be brave

and continue to stack up all of the things you believe are important and true. 

Pile it all up in your house of logic. 

Especially if you are preparing for any legal custody/divorce battle(and it will be a battle – but that’s another post).  Let your trusted professionals guide you as to what they can use or not use to help you. Even when you do not believe them, TRUST THEM.

Keep your house of logic for you and as you need it to be.

Keep opening those wide doors

and providing the tasty enticements

until someone threads out the useful bits for you. 

 

I am rooting for you from over here in my little house of logic too!

Love, Ms. Herisme xo

Giant Flaming Elephants

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There are a few giant flaming elephants roaming around our communities.  Some have been recognized for what they are, yet they continue marching about in flames.  Some are reluctantly seen from a safe distance through a dirty window, and appear to not be having an immediate impact, so they are dismissed as illusions.  Some are blatantly ignored, as they go stomping about smashing and burning everything in their path.

 Abuse is a giant flaming elephant in family law.

 No one wants to admit abuse’s disgusting infestation of custody and divorce cases, much less face up to it, acknowledge it for what it is, and provide a platform for true health, safety and personal responsibility.

 “70% of men who sue for custody get it,

and of those men who sue for custody,

80% to 90% of them are abusive.”

 Abuse in marriage is rampant in this world, country, state, county, neighborhood. You don’t think it is in your neighborhood, but I assure you, it absolutely is.  Abuse doesn’t go away with socioeconomic or educational status.  Why this is true is a topic for another time, and does not change that it is true and it is affecting our entire culture, especially children.

 Are you aware that there are programs in your community, which exist to promote healthy relationships between parents and children?

Doesn’t this sound like a wonderful resource for families in need of support?

Are you aware of how this translates to an abusive family situation?

 Father abuses mother (raping her, punching her, threatens to kill her with a weapon, removes financial resources from her to gain power and control, verbally assaults her – you know, the usual).  Mother calls domestic violence center to get help after years of trying to work things out and comply with whatever she believes is provoking her abuser, in order to please him so that he will not be triggered to be abusive anymore (yes, I KNOW this does not work, but when you are in the situation, you do not know this.  You do not even know that you are being abused – another topic for another day).

Domestic Violence center provides services including a counseling session for mother, safety shelter for immediate threats, coordination with other agencies (police, child protective services etc), and sometimes legal services.  Even if the abuser is seen as a threat to the mother and children, the children will be ordered to visit with their father in a supervised situation – with the helpful people who promote, encourage and support developing healthy families.

How is it okay to force children to sit with the human who abused their other parent?

How can we expect someone who feels that they have the right to abuse another human, will not abuse other humans?

Why do we allow children to be counted as property of marriage, rather than as humans?

 

Why do we not believe women when they report abuse?

Less than 2% of women are found to have falsely claimed abuse. 

Are we saying that a woman being abused is okally dokally do, and has NO impact on any other areas of their lives?

Or, perhaps, we are saying that children are not affected by an abusive person abusing their mother?

 

The abuser will become even more angered that he is unable to be in control, and possibly files for divorce from mother. Abuser also files for immediate sole physical custody of children because HE has the home, HE has the family income, HE is being cast out of his children’s lives by his “crazy wife” who is making false allegations of abuse and requires counseling and therapy for her anxiety.  Guess what?  The court grants him at the very least, 50% custody of the children, and threatens mother that if she doesn’t have her own adequate home and income to take care of the children during her 50% custody, father will be granted more custody until she can get herself straightened out.  Also, father claims, mother is traumatizing the children by subjecting them to being removed from their home and father.

 

The court agrees.  Father has no criminal record.  Mother has no hospitalizations from suspected abuse.  The court has no professional evidence or proof that father is abusive, so they rule as if this is a “regular divorce,” and tell the father and mother to go to mediation and work everything out like adults.

 

Even if mother has some proof of abuse (Dr reports, photos etc), father hasn’t abused the children, so 50% custody and mediation it is. Mother is forced to negotiate the terms of her custody and divorce with her ABUSER, who is abusive to her.

How can you negotiate with someone who fundamentally feels the need to abuse you?

You are not on even ground and by that very nature cannot negotiate.

Why do we expect that a difference of opinion can be mediated when one party has all of the power and control?

Our custody laws do not make any sense for abusive situations.

 

The laws are the laws and the court has a responsibility to uphold the laws.

I do understand that.  I also understand that laws are not entities unto their own.  They did not create themselves, nor do they interpret themselves.  Humans are making laws.  Humans are interpreting laws.  Humans are often doing this on behalf of very vulnerable other humans.

 

Abuse in divorce and custody cases is so incredibly rampant, that it has become marginalized, causing laws to swirl around and enforce the ultimate legal system drive of power and control.

Guess what abusers want?  Power and control. 

Guess who wins in legal battles? Power and control.

Too frequently, custody morphs into institutionalized abuse by lawmakers and courts who blithely absolve themselves under the auspices of upholding ‘fundamental parental rights.’

 

Only in the very rare case, are children and mothers protected from the abuser by court order.  Ironically, the abuser is the one who helps them the most by his concrete abusive/criminal actions which physically prevent him from having responsibility or contact (he is in jail, in rehab, in a mental illness facility etc.).  However, even then, a judge may, and usually will, order some kind of contact between the abuser and his children.

This may include forcing the mother to drive her children (at her emotional, financial and time expense) to jail/rehab/mental illness facility every week in order to spend time with their father.  If the mother indicates that she is unwilling to, or unable to, comply with that suggestion, the judge will order that a social worker come to her home, remove her children and transport them to visit with their father. Especially after the abuser’s attorney argues that the mother’s extreme anxiety is harming the children and frightening them, as evidenced by her bizarre dependence on her therapist and domestic violence shelter support, and therefore she should not be involved at all with the care and support of her children as they rebuild their connection with their father.

You know, because fathers of any kind are better than no father at all…  WTF  … because studies show that children who have the (safe and healthy) influence and (safe and healthy) support of two (safe and healthy) parents, they are statistically proven to do better in school and as functioning adults.  Except when this is quoted to you as a reason for placing your children into contact with an abuser, all the “(safe and healthy)” bits are turned into the disregarded flaming elephants, because “property parental rights” trumps all.

In my case…

In my case, we have a temporary reprieve (which on the surface appears permanent), due to the father’s serious mental illness combined with dangerous behaviors, which have led to him being placed in the State’s custody for a few years.  And while in their custody, he still managed to violate court orders, which resulted in him having additional restraints on his ability to be responsible for himself, much less a child.

Even given all of that (and the lethal threats he made), there was continued talk of him obtaining at least 50% legal custody of our son, right up until the last few weeks before the final divorce.  This would not have been unprecedented, unfortunately.  This could have been a disaster.  I would be in the same position as countless other women, and be forced to co-parent with an abusive person – which is probably in my future anyway.

To me, our current orders are a temporary reprieve, because at any time, father can appeal the court to modify custody, when his “treatment is successful,” and the State has fulfilled its commitment to be responsible for him.  I can assure you, the judge will change the order, should that come to pass.

In the meantime, I have to bring my son to a reunification therapist so that she may facilitate contact between son and his father.  I truly respect her opinion and understand she is obligated to provide some context for contact.

I do not understand WHO, outside of the legal system,

thinks that physical contact between my son and his father is okay.

Inside the legal system, they have this ability to make it seem like an awesome idea only because it fulfills some legal obligation which has nothing to do with keeping a child safe and healthy.

I am also ordered to send weekly updates about my son to father.  At this time, to us, father is a stranger – and a dangerous stranger.  He weighs about ½ of what he did when we knew him, his thick black hair is gone because he shaves his head.  Yet, I am supposed to willingly and obligingly, send information about my young child to this person every single week, who, for all I know, still intends to murder us.

 

My story is just one of many. 

Even here in our community, my story is one of many.

I am one of many flaming elephants.

 

According to my attorney, who has 25+ years of experience, my story is one of the scariest she has encountered (um, I would rather not be special in this regard), yet, in terms of the relentless abusive power and control tactics used in custody cases, I am, sadly, not at all unique.

Justice, as seen by rational reasonable humans, is rarely served in custody cases. If you are seeking human justice, go to a religious entity.  Power and control are always served in custody cases involving domestic violence.  When abuse is involved, the children and abused spouse, ultimately ALWAYS lose.  The best you can hope for is that you are a strong enough parent with a strong enough child, to survive until that child is an adult and makes healthy choices for themselves.

Children are manipulated by the abusive parent.  Children are silently abused by the abusive parent.  The abused spouse is never ever allowed to not be connected with her abuser, unless they want to abandon their children to the abuser.

What message are we sending to victims of marital abuse? 

Don’t report it, or you’ll lose your lifestyle/money/house/much of your children’s time/any ability to potentially protect your children from the abuser/dignity/privacy/etc?  (why abusive men get custody link here)

What message would you send to a mother in an abusive marriage? 

Are you prepared to support the consequences of your advice?

What are you doing right now in your community to help these mothers and children in need? 

How can we help prevent our daughters and sons from entering into these situations?

Can you see this giant flaming elephant?

What do you do once you see it IS there?

 

Love, Ms Herisme

When you run my 5K…

Here is the truth.

 When someone wants to murder you, nothing can protect you.

 -Repeat-

 Nothing can protect you

 Nothing can protect

 Nothing can

 Nothing

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A few years ago in our town, over a very short time period, there were three ladies who were brutally murdered by their husbands.  Two of these husbands also murdered their own children.  The third intended to, as far as I’m concerned, but wasn’t given the opportunity, so he just killed his family’s cats, his wife and himself instead.

 

So now our community runs 5K’s in their honor to raise awareness and money for victims of domestic violence.  Well, we run them for two of the white ladies, and one family’s children.  The third woman and her children were a lower income Hispanic family, so our subtle, not so subtle, racist community doesn’t run for them.  But, that’s another topic for another day.

 

What kind of husbands, fathers, sons, uncles, men do this?  Men who are sick.  Men who are crying out for help in ways that go unheard.  Men that are abusive, controlling, ill, and violent in such duplicitous ways that their neighbors and communities, even their own families and spouses, consistently describe them as the “nice guy next door.”

 

How do I know about these things?  Well, I suppose when you read our story in the quaint local paper, or the little paragraph on our sign-up genius/donations webpage, you’ll get filled in.  Maybe you won’t know about any of it until you show up to support our sponsored cause at our memorial 5K, which might be your first 5K and you’ll feel all the community support feels by signing up for the cause.  “Oh my, how sad.  I think that I saw them at a thing once when they did something.”

I know these things because I’ve seen it happen before.

I know these things because my husband is very sick.

I know these things because my husband wants to murder our son and me.

I know this because he said so.

 

Not, “I’m going to kill you for not putting out the trash, you knucklehead.”  More like, “I am your apocalypse, I’ll make you drink my blood, I’m Sly Stallone, Our 3 hearts beat as one, and I know God doesn’t forgive murder.”  You know, he wants to LITERALLY, in the truest sense, kill murder kill us.

 

Let me tell you, um, yikes.  It is extremely scary, and life altering, no matter how sick you know a person is, to know that this other human being wants to hurt your child and you merely for being who you are, for existing.

 

“Get a lawyer,” you say?

“Call the police,” you say?

“Get him to a hospital,” you say?

Done, done and done. 

 

Here’s the catch though, none of these well-intentioned institutions can actually protect us.

“No, no!” you say? 

“You must not have followed the correct procedures. 

You must not have said the right things. 

You must not have filled out the correct police reports. 

You must not have found the right Doctors/hospitals/lawyers, because if you had, you and your son would be safe.”

 

Indulge me with a moment of your time to dispel these lovely, comforting, and overly confident in naiveté myths for you – to decimate your glorious happy bubble.

 LAWYERS:     super negotiative finesse and super law knowledge

The lawyer may file papers for you, provide legal advice to you regarding the laws in your particular state, navigate your local court.  Your lawyer has to work with all of the other lawyers, judges and court personnel long after your legal issues are over, and therefore will not be vigilante advocating for what you think is “right” all Hollywood style.  Also, your lawyer has heard and seen every disgusting side of humanity, most likely, and can only represent actual proven truth – not conjecture, predictions, heresay or those dreaded feelings of yours (tip: see your therapist for those fun times).  What you vehemently insist is non negotiable and the most important things for you and your child, may not match up with the actual laws of the land, and may not be within your lawyer’s capabilities.  Not because they are incompetent, but you will know this because of your lawyer’s undeniable extreme competence and professionalism – both of which you will need if you need a lawyer at anytime in your life.  Also, lawyers are not superheroes with any superpowers, other than super negotiative finesse and super law knowledge.

 POLICE:  need actual proof

There’s a funny thing about the police too.  They cannot arrest or detain anyone because you suspect something or are frightened of something.  They need actual proof (gasp!) to do either of these.  If someone uses their words, like, I don’t know, “I’m going to murder you” and such, yet they don’t actually murder you, the police cannot arrest that person.  As told to me, “words are just words, not actions,” and “if every written threat to kill someone equaled an arrest, most people on Facebook would be in jail.”

 MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONALS:  HIPPA

Hospitals, Mental Health professionals – hey, guess what?  They are even funnier than the police and tighter bound than the lawyers.  HIPPA – google it, as it is AWESOME in a so very not awesome way for anyone with an adult loved one who has a serious mental illness.  Also, as an adult, no matter what your condition regarding mental illness, your self-reporting is absolutely the only information that the Mental Health professionals can and will take into consideration.  Psychotic much?  Okay.  Do you feel homicidal or suicidal?  Not right now, you say?  Okay.  Do you want treatment?  No, you say?  Super!  You are clear minded, discharged and free to go.  This also frees the hospitals and Mental Health professionals from adhering to any bugaboo “duty to warn” an intended target (insert me, our son) for a psychotic homicidal mentally ill patient (insert my husband), because they just verbally confirmed that the patient can verbally say they are not homicidal right then.

 

“No, no, no, no, no,” you say. 

“That cannot be.  I know that the hospital can commit someone and detain them.” 

 

Sure they can, until the adult patient says they want to go and don’t want to hurt anybody or themselves.  The adult patient who two days prior sent multiple homicidal threatening emails prompting a Protective Order through the court system, after being picked up by police for threatening to blow-up the hotel he was staying in and to physically harm housekeeping, yes, him, indeed.  Clear minded and well = discharged.

 

“Wait a minute,” you say.  “Is this the same guy who was picked up by the same police for erratic and disoriented behavior within 36 hours of being discharged from the hospital after a nine day forced stay?”

 

Thusly I say unto you, “yup.”

 

And so, what are we doing right now?  How are we keeping safe?

 

We have a protective order. 

It’s like a restraining order, except it begins with the letter, “p.”

 

We have had open communications between local domestic violence groups, child protective services, police, sheriff, pediatrician, therapist, school, workplace, lawyers, family members, close friends, church etc so that everyone is aware of the situation.

 

Words, words, words, words, words.

Here is the thing about words. 

They cannot actually physically protect you.

Here is the truth.

When someone wants to murder you, nothing can protect you.

Repeat

Nothing can protect you

Nothing can protect

Nothing can

Nothing

 

You can pray.  You can hope.  You can peek around every corner waiting for the something awful to happen.  You can file every paper, you can contact every agency, you can spread your story far and wide, but absolutely nothing can protect you.

 

You cannot run away because a psychotic adult can hire an almost unethical lawyer to prevent that, especially since you have a child together.  You know, because the law protects parental rights.  Even for a murderer.  Or, in this case, a wannabe murderer.

 

More awesomesauce for this hearty party…

Have I mentioned that our son was forced to attend supervised visitation with his father, who incidentally, in case you misunderstood something previously read, wants to murder us

and we have a protective order from a judge in a court showing they believe his father is too dangerous to be around him?

No?  Well, it is true.

 

So not only has our son been frightened of his father’s behavior because of our previous domestic violence in the home, and his father’s attempt to hurt him because I refused to allow him to hurt me anymore, but also re-traumatized each week by being forced to sit in a room with him for an hour and listen to his father’s manic nonsense.  Or, as I refer to it, “institutionalized abuse in the form of re-victimization.”

“Son, your father is too dangerous for us to be around him, except you’re still going to have to sit with him for an hour in a room each week and be subjected to his psychosis.”

 

Our son was six years-old.

 

Anyone else finding this uncomfortable, barbaric and unbelievable?!!?

 

Any else feeling like this might be truthiness/movie pitch/rantings instead of reality?!!?

 

Me too, except I AM ACTUALLY LIVING IT.

 

For now.

 

Until we are murdered by my husband

 

and then the police can actually arrest him,

 

and the Mental Health professionals will be forced to treat him,

 

and the lawyers can move on to their next case

 

and y’all can carry on planning and running our 5K.

 

When you run my 5K, you should expect tastefully decorated and chilled bottles (not plastic, duh) of water, with matching, tastefully decorated GF, DF cupcakes, which will, of course, have some kind of added unexpected nutritional value (“oh my! I would have never known kale was in there if you hadn’t told me!  Amazing!).  And napkins.  Cloth commemorative napkins, which could maybe double as a glow kerchief or brow sweat mop, as you desire.

 

As you round the corner to the obscene amount of brilliant festive balloons (clear with floating glitter inside, white ribbon) and giant silky white ribbon indicating the finish line, someone, most likely my irreverent Uncle or sardonic brother, will point you in another direction, yelling, “Just kidding, this is a 10K all the way!  Run it for Mrs Herisme and Little Heishim! Go, go, go, go, go!”

And you’ll do it for the cause *fist bump*!

 

Psssst…. Just a thought.  If my husband could have actually received appropriate quality mental health support and guidance, my son and I probably wouldn’t be murdered.

 

I guess then, though, you’d miss out on my sweet tale

and my lawyer would be about $70K short.

 

Tra-la

 

Love, Mrs.Herisme and Son Heishim

Please note, dear Readers,

I should have prefaced this post by saying that it was written in the Fall of 2014.

For an update on our current condition, please read the post dated 4.21.16.

Thank you for checking in on us xoxo