abuse

‘Where is my son? You aren’t the person I raised,’ she said through tear-filled eyes. She was curled up having a nervous breakdown on the bathroom floor. Pleading me to stop, but I can’t do that.’

“Cops showed up at my mom’s house looking for me. She and I would hide behind the couch. She was my biggest enabler. Then, she had enough. With all of her jewelry, she said, ‘Is there anything you can sell so you can stop?’ There wasn’t anything real left. I had already sold it all.”

‘Shaking, with my daughter, I drove to the gas station. I needed help. I stood there in my slippers, crying with my 3-year-old in the back, convinced he wouldn’t be far behind.’

“He would remind me this was my second marriage and I had two children by two different dads. He told me no one else would want me. Starting over on my own, with a disability, would be impossible. Before I knew it, something came over me. To this day, I don’t know how I managed to do this. I packed for my life.”

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