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having felt sorry for myself and cat for three solid days maybe five; it was sad to get a text from my mother that she's been feeling unwell for three days and 'sore all over'.
I fucking panic.
my mother gone.
my biggest fear.
and as always
NOT NOW
yet god will always laugh should you plan
and I just immediately looked up the only symptom she gave me "sore all over"...
and then I cried.
within minutes, I was looking up my mother's health because I love her.
my spouse
when I hadn't slept in our marital bed in three days due to blisters and sores and anguish (one day I'll never tell you about why but involves my fucking father) unleashed again and again every day felt like a battle on my skin. Louise hay calls skin "anger".
on the third day, I got so angry.
yet I thought the cops were going to save me
not arrest me.
at least I got to go to the hospital immediately and get issued antibiotics eventually.
those are the lost weeks -
July late July 2023
lost
so much
that ring
fuck
I packed all of Andrew's stuff and put it on the front porch. I was getting advice from a rich person who I thought could recommend a good lawyer for me. all I had wanted was a good lawyer... I knew that was the key.
(even now as I type this all these weeks later, I think 'god why didn't I just stay with Rachel - who knew when a lawyer leaves a firm to go ...even though only one convo...). I can haunt myself a lot.
it's over.
my mom is alive.
I am alive.
I paid the ransom.
let's rebuild.
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