I keep having these dreams of a house full of children. There is nothing more my heart wants, so why is it so difficult?
Here is my update for the week. And try as I am, I don’t know how this update will look or sound. I don’t plan to edit anything or reread what is written. I don’t know if it is a bad thing or not but all I have for you is pure, raw emotions. I don’t have the energy for anything more. My insides are a bumbled mess and I need to wade through the waters to get back to shore.
I started my day a little early because I stayed home from work yesterday. I had to take care of my dogs because they decided to have a taste of something and it knocked them out of being dogs. And then this morning this email from my licensor graced my inbox:
Good morning Pearl,
I wanted to let you know that I spoke with your former therapist, and it was her recommendation that you see her a couple more times before receiving children into your care. While she had good things to say about you she would like to see some closure to what you had started with her considering your abrupt departure from services. The department is not so concerned with how many sessions you complete. Rather, we need to receive a recommendation from the therapist in regards to your ability to care for a child in your care. Your therapist does not believe that you’ve managed your depression and potential attachment issues to a level that is considered healthy enough to care for kids that may potentially leave your care (if not adopted by you). Let me know how you want to proceed.
How would I like to proceed? Well, let me think about this for a second. You had advised any therapist I saw over a year from my licensing application being approved had no weight in a decision made by the state.
Lies. And now it suddenly does.
Look, I get you need to check every bloody background because there are some people who are frickin lunatics and pretty messed up. I get that. But, hot damn. I’ve worked too damn hard to get better. To be better. And you only want to judge me for how I was the year I lost my dad, my son and my grandpa within six months of each other. Was I in my right state of mind? Hell no. 2014 crippled me. I never hid that. Not once. To anyone during this whole process. In fact, I hide it from no one anymore because I have seen the person I was then and the person I am now. And I am damn frickin proud of the woman I am today. I am proud of rising from my ashes to be able to love, to be able to forgive, to be able to live again. And it feels like all y’all want to do is remind me that I was once broken.
Considering my abrupt departure from services? You gotta be frickin kidding me right? Sure, it was abrupt. But, it was that or punching her in the face for telling me I was crazy. Or that I needed to be on medication in order to get through this.
More lies. Hey, news flash you blood sucking therapist, I got through it without your medications. Ya, I definitely didn’t make it through. You were so bloody right. So right. Because, you know, you’re a therapist, you know absolutely everything.
Closure? Hey, Mr. Licensor, since leaving my “She-cray” shrink here is how I found closure:
- I rededicated my life to God.
- I let go of Jackson.
- I forgave myself from losing Jackson.
- I forgave myself for not going to my dad.
- I learned I could be around children again.
- I learned what my vices are and can say no to them.
- I have friends who I can go to for prayer and Godly advise.
- I learned to communicate my feelings.
- I can celebrate my birthday.
- I can celebrate holidays.
- I learned to write my feelings out.
- I’m no longer afraid to live.
If you want me to keep going, JO, I can. Because she’s wrong. Again. Not only did I prove her wrong that I could get through my pain without medication, but I proved I could get better in the right setting. Because, JO, I blossomed. And continue to blossom with the life that I have and the people I’ve surrounded myself with.
I’m angry right now. And I’m sorry, mostly for this rant of a blog. I’m just so damn frustrated at a system that keeps telling me I am not fit to be a mom. Go and meet anyone that knows my heart, my real heart, and they would tell you differently. And while I don’t know what God is teaching me through this I do know this: Pearl means strong. During the darkest time of my life someone told me that and I never forgot it. And you lady shrink, guy licensor, or anyone else, will not, absolutely not, stop me from holding fast, not breaking, and knowing God will fill the desires of my heart.
God of miracles come.
We need your supernatural love.
To break this.
Nothing is impossible.
You’re the God of miracles.
This world is shaking.
But you cannot be shaken.
My heart is breaking.
But I’m not broken yet.
Your love is fearless.
Help me be courageous.
There is nothing impossible.