here it is 7:54 am and I have not slept a wink. I am struggling so much all of the time with the terrible losses, how much I missed from my relationship with J.F., 42 years of not being able to be his mother.
I'm struggling with the betrayal of my mother, how she kept him from me, and lied to everyone that she was his mother. She never took me to a doctor, and completely shut me out of my own emotions by her denial of my life. No twelve year old should be so horribly betrayed by both parents.
she cut me off from my best friend T. M., and never let me send her a letter once J.F. was born. I still have not located T.M., although I remember she lived on Holly Berry Lane in Rosehaven North Beach Chesapeke Bay Md. There are too many people on the internet with the same name.
I am sending letters to the Vital Statistics department in Baltimore to request corrections to J.F.'s birth certificate, as well as to the board of education in Montgomery County Md for copies of my school records, and child protective services in Rockville to request copies of all of the file they have on my departed daughter G.N.. I am going to get all of the information I can to verify my life struggles, and try to write an autobiography. Perhaps my life can be of help to someone who struggles with similar circumstances.
Writing it might help me too.
I didn't buy any sleeping pills, and now I am regreting it.
I suspect that the real reason G.I. [my second daughter] is being so harsh with me is because she is struggling with this information too, about her brother and about what happened to me. I find it hard to believe she could be so upset over a political disagreement like she claims.
I don't want my family to suffer the way I have, so I have tried to minimize the amount of information I share with them, emotional abuse is a very real result of too much information in this area. I have only told them bits and pieces to keep it from being too much for them to bear.
Sometimes I can not bear it. I haven't seen J.F. since 1994, and we talk on the phone all of the time, but it's not the same. I really need to give him a big hug. I could stand one myself.
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being angry at Mom is hard on me, since she is not available to tell off....... I have always made excuses for her, and now, so long after her death, I find myself angry, because she had choices, and she chose to subjugate me and steal my son. She chose a lie over the truth, and her fantasy of a happy family instead of the facts. She chose to protect dad, instead of me, and I am the one who was defenseless. I was just 5 feet tall and 103 pounds, and as timid as a rabbit in the wild hiding from the fox. he was 6 inches taller and had about 55 to 60 pounds on me, as well as his age....... he was 48 years old when I was 2 months shy of my twelfth birthday. NOT a fair fight, and he strangled me until I lost conscienciousness. I remember when I came to, and he was still on top of me, and my older brother came into the basement and started screaming at dad. I got up and ran to the bathroom and had to vomit. My hands were shaking and I was so terrified. My mind was swirling with hysterical thoughts. I had a torn shirt and was just a mess. I couldn't think, I just wanted to die.
When Mom came in the house I tried to tell her what happened, how dad tore my shirt and beat me up.... and he told her I had been stuffing my bra to entice him! I said it wasn't true, my bra was all bunched up from being the wrong size so I had put a bit of fabric in it to smooth it out. I showed Mom the bruises on my throat, and she made me wear a turtle neck shirt, in August, it was 90 degrees out and I had to wear a turtle neck. I was put to shame for being a victim.
9 months of victimization, followed by the next 42 years of inability to own my own life.
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