An Open Letter to my Family on this Father’s Day

June 16, 2019

To my family,

Can I tell you I don’t really feel like celebrating father’s day this year. I know this makes you mad just reading it, but I don’t.

I’ve spent the last few months pretending that everything is okay, for all of you. Because, well we all know that if I wasn’t the word judgement would be capitalized on my front door step with each letter coming from one of you, shiny and sparkly with the words of your judgement written on each letter.

Every day for me is like a war within myself to be who you want me to be not only for my children but for the man that I really just can not stand.

Every time I have tried to reach out in the smallest way I have been met with nothing but your words of
“try harder”
“be nicer”
“but he works, you don’t”
“do more”
“get over it”

Trust me, I know, I know we are all supposed to get together today for our oh so great celebration like everything is okay, and no body is going to stare in awkward silence like they want to say something. We all know they won’t. They will just oh so elegantly sit there and wait until I leave and then you all will have your party filled time with the talk of my failures and embarrassments of our oh so wonderful family.

You see, if you want me to tell the truth right now, I don’t feel like I am part of your family.

Because when the Sun Herald was going to do a story on what happened to Elijah, when we they said it would be great to know that your family is behind you what they were greeted with was, “Oh well, we think it’s awful but we don’t want our name brought up in this, this could hurt our reputation.”

Because when I felt like I was trapped within my life, and wanted nothing more then to just be free, to do something, anything, what I was met with was, “your kids need you, you need to suck it up and be a better mom”

you see right now, my house is a mess, my kids are mad because they want to go outside, they have dumped their cheerios all over the floor, and my phone is off because I just simply did not pay the bill.

You see, I told your oh so gracious son in law, the one that you all cherish, the one that you all oh so elegantly have made clear that he could do no wrong, the one that you all believe was cast down to earth from God himself, ya that one.

I told him, that I was done, that I was done being everything to everyone, and that I was done being his mother, that I was done wearing 10 different shoes, for people that simply weren’t wearing any for me.

I told him, he would need to start doing the cleaning.
I told him, he would need to start paying the bills, after all it is his money.

My identity has become wrapped up into nothing but a mother, and that is all, and all I can think about is the half empty bottle of wine sitting on the counter, because that infact is so much better then being stared at and talked about as I continually tell myself to just breathe the whole 2 hours I will sit at your house.

My life has become nothing but the mother i’m supposed to be for you, my children’s father, and everyone else, so that you can promote the picture perfect family you need to have.

As I continue to fall apart, because my wanting to just be someone other than a mother is not allowed to be a want that I can have.

You all have mountains of advice, until it directly impacts your life.

Go to college, I suppose I’ll just load up the kids and they can scream into the classroom while I try to learn and keep them quiet at the same time.

Get a job, I suppose I could bring them to my job as well, I once had a job, and felt the absolute best I ever had, but I suppose I just did not fit into the mold of what was needed at my oh so lovely families business.

Go do more things, well if money was made on trees and I could just go ahead and pluck some you can bet I would.

You see, the truth is none of you have even the least amount of knowledge of what I am going thru, of how I am feeling and quite simply you never will.

You have never seen your child almost die, and you have never prayed to God to take you instead.

You have never wished you could just run away, because there is not a single second of your life when a child is not in between your legs, or standing under you asking you, “What you are doing”
And, you could give the solid statement of “Just take a shower and breathe”yet I did that, and there stood my three year old with his head peaked into the shower repeating, “Mommy what you doing?”

You see, my days revolve around, autism meltdowns, constant noise, constant loudness, jumping up and down, jumping on top of me.

They revolve around, looking at the color of poop making sure there is not a hint of red because that would mean, his bowels are once again not working again.

They revolve around, wondering if going anywhere other than wal mart is really worth it because one of them will in fact have a melt down, one of them will most likely get sick, and getting sick is a whole other story.

Because with sickness comes hospitals, and by hospitals I mean hospitals 90 miles away, which means more financial strain, more guilt, more judgement.

I can tell you exactly how to change a gtube, and how to titrate oxygen.
I can tell you the ends and outs of ABA therapy and how to do it, I can tell you how to spot respiratory distress, I can tell you all of the things about air ways defects and GI issues in children, and my mind wonders of all of it everyday.

I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt a single second of every single minute of the day that I did not protect my child, and none of you can even speak about any of it.

So i’m simply here to tell you that today I just don’t want to join your celebration.

I want to wish you all a Happy Father’s Day, but today I just don’t have the energy to fake it until I make it, because today, and probably tomorrow there is a cloud over my head and it’s just not lifting, and the only energy I have is to just exist.

So that I can continue to be the mother you and society have made it clear that I need to be.
Today i’m nothing more than the caregiver to the two kids I made, my identity is no where to be found, and I simply feel as though I don’t have a purpose.

So Happy Father’s Day, but I will not be attending your father’s day celebration, I need to just exist, and that’s all I can do.

Stephanie.

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