SeVeN

 I am at a point where I hate me. I hate what I've done to get where I am. Only in the sense of my son. I abandoned him. I left him behind... I can't believe he's seven today.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was happy. I was excited to start a family with his father. I stayed with my surrogate dad until he was born. After staying in the hospital a couple days I moved in with him. It was great. He was such a good baby. Slept through all kinds of noise. His father seemed to be attentive to me and his son. Although looking back I recognize how much more time I spent with our son. But I was a stay at home mom at the time with his father hinting at me getting a job. Even though his mother, whom supposedly also worked was living with us. But too many times we were evicted. 

I trusted my son's father enough to move halfway across the country to live in his home state. Our vehicle got repo'd. I came home from grocery shopping one day to find all of our belongings in trash bags all over the apartment. But I stuck by him. I did not want to split my family up. Money was always an issue. I wanted to stay home and with my son all the time. I did not want to work. Sure, it kinda sounds bad, but stay at home mom is a thing. I wanted to enjoy it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could care for him like I never was. All the pictures I took drove people crazy sometimes. He was just too cute! Like every mom would say about their child. But he really was. I created this happy little child. I was so proud. I helped him walk. I taught him to dress himself before he was two. I helped him. I cared for him. I love him. I hate the distance. I hate the betrayal I feel with his father. 

I swore to myself when I concieved, that I would never take him from his father. He had already lost his first child through aweful means. The mother took off with his son and he never heard from them again. I swore I wouldn't do that to him.

I had to leave, though. I couldn't stand his mother. I couldn't stand him anymore. He made me feel like I was nothing. Everything was my fault. I couldn't ask about finances. I couldn't do much. And I was suicidal. Almost daily. Even with therapy. My therapist was proud of me for leaving. So I must have done something right. Even though I lost most of the people I was close to when I left my son behind. I didn't trust that I was a good enough mother, anyway. So the promise I made to myself worked out for the better, I suppose.

I can't believe he's seven today, though. I can't help but feel I failed him. He doesn't seem happy. I mean, he lights up when he sees me... I dont know. I just wish I could hold him. I just wish his father would hold up his end. He agreed to let him visit me this year. I've only traveled to him. And I've had to stay at their apartment because I couldn't afford a car and hotel/motel. It was so uncomfortable. I was so uneasy the whole time. Never alone with my son either. I was always being watched with him. I hated it. And now he's canceled having our son visit me...

I don't intend on talking shit about his father to him. I don't intend on turning him against his father. I don't want to run off with him. I don't want to cause any trouble, any stress. I just want to be able to see him on my terms for once. I hate me. I hate that I gave up. Maybe I should have just tried to end myself again when it didn't work a couple years ago....

But I love where I am. I love my people. My husband. My sistahwife. I love them. I love who I am around them. Who I've grown to be... But right now. In this drunken moment.... I hate me. I am a screwup. Its a matter of time before I do the same thing here....

Fuck... I miss him so much. My little man... He was two when I left.... I can't believe he's seven..

AfTeR mAtH

It's been nearly three days since my appointment. I am still guarded. I am still scared. What the hell? 

So I was poked and prodded by a doctor, who hasn't been? So I was restrained during the whole thing, that's part of an MRI. I'm so uneasy. My love is going to notice soon if he hasn't already. And he's going to assume it's him. But once again I find I am incapable of explaining what's going through my head. He tried having a little fun tonight and it made me want to cry. This isn't fair! Nothing happened like that at the appointment. I wasn't assaulted. I don't understand the fear and unease I'm feeling. I barely want to leave my room. I need to get over this... Now.

mRi

I generally do well at the doctors. Hell, I've been to the hospital enough for the process to be second nature to me. However, something about this time just has me overwhelmed and guarded. 

First, I was given the wrong address, which brought me to the Emergency Room. I called from the parking lot, confused that I'd go to the ER for a scheduled MRI. The woman on the phone told me it's the same building, someone from the ER will walk me over. I thanked her and hung up the phone.

The receptionist inside the door directed me down the street to the main entrance, which is not posted except on a sign next to the street. I still had to guess which building to enter. I told security, whom was sitting at a desk just inside, I had an appointment for an MRI. She gave me a visitor tag and told me to sign the red clip board in the room around the corner. I found a red clip board at an unoccupied desk. I signed in at 3:38pm for my appointment at 4pm. At 3:56pm the first staff member I had seen since entering the waiting area took me to a desk for registration. After about five minutes of minimal questions he escorted me to the MRI waiting area. Around 5pm I was thanked for my patience and brought to a tiny room with a locker and instructed to only remove my bra. No questions to double check I wasn't wearing metal. Hell, I was wearing a sports bra, so no wire and no clasp, but he didn't ask. I removed my bra and locked it up with my purse. I'm glad I did some research before the appointment. I waited another 10 minutes for the technician to return. He had me sit in a chair in the hall to sign a waver for the dye they needed to give me for the second scan while he got everything ready. He brought me in. He was unnervingly polite. I laid on the table with my head wedged on a special head rest so I couldn't accidently move during the scan. He gave me ear plugs and told me the whole thing, including the second scan, would take about 26 minutes total. He locked a cage around my head and the scan began. 

After some time of just trying to meditate as to not start panicking about the confined space I was in, the table rolled out and he began to look for a vein for the IV to inject the dye. He started on my right arm. Put the rubber band around nice and tight. Then started poking and slapping my arm. He couldn't seem to find a vein, so he went to the other arm. And started searching. My right arm was going noticeably numb; the rubber band was still on it. He came back around to my right side and attempted a jab in my forearm. He moved the needle around unable to find a vein. He pulled the needle out and wiped the hole with an alcohol swab then removed the rubber band and moved to my left arm. He put the band around my bicep and attempted a jab. While still in my arm he leaned over to see my face to ask if he was hurting me, in the process pushing the needle in more. I couldn't get words out and tried to nod with tears starting to escape my eyes. He pulled the needle out at an angle it seemed, as the pain got intense for a few seconds before I felt blood running down my arm then a couple swipes of an alcohol swab. He took the rubber band off then wrapped it around my left forearm to try finding a vein there. The rubber band was too tight. It hurt more than the needle going into the back of my hand. He pulled the needle out and told me loud enough to hear through my ear plugs that he was going to add another band to try to help find a vein. I tried to nod as I still couldn't seem to find my voice; terrified as my arm tingled. Feeling helpless I stared at the ceiling and cried as the second band is tied on. He tried again in the back of my hand and failed. 

He finally informed me that he's going to call over to CAT Scan to see if someone could help him. After calling he came back over and removed both rubber bands from my forearm and went back over to my right arm. He put a band on and informed me he was going to try one more time. A woman from CAT Scan walked in just then and he let her take over. She introduced herself to me then inserted the needle without issue. I assume one of them injected the dye because next I hear him saying it'll only be another six minutes. I felt the table start to roll back so I flip my switch and went emotionally numb at that point. I didn't want to cry and end up being the reason the scans came out bad. I did not want to be the reason I'd have to go back there. It seemed like forever in the tube when I felt the table rolling back out. Panic set in as I started thinking the worst. I held it all in, not wanting him to see fear. He removed the IV then unlocked the head cage. Everything in me wanted to jolt upright, but my head was spinning and so was the room. I passed him my ear plugs with mildly shaky hands and sat up slowly. I had to sit on the table for a minute to orient myself. He noticed and told me to take my time. Without even an attempt to help me off the table he directed me to the little room where I had locked my bra and purse in a locker. I got dressed. I walked out to the lobby. I said goodbye to the security lady as I left through the first set of doors.

I felt the heat of the day coming through the second set of doors. I stopped and search my purse for my keys. That's when I noticed how much I was shaking. I made it to my car and started it. I set my music. I lit a cigarette. I took a couple swigs of hot water from the bottle I had left in the car and looked at the clock... it was after 6:30pm. 

Where had the time gone? I went into the MRI no later than quarter past 5. He told me 26 minutes... so let's say the scan took 26 minutes total... he spent nearly 50 minutes torturing me... the woman who helped was prompt and did it in one shot... so he bruised and stabbed my arms for almost an hour! With my head caged it was difficult to move anything else. I didn't want to cause more trouble, so I did what I was told. I clenched and unclenched my fists. I tried to be responsive from what I could hear through my ear plugs. I couldn't see anything but the ceiling. I couldn't move. All I could do was lay there and take it... lay there and take it... lay there and take it... 

Is this another flashback thing? All I can think of is GG. And the bruises I played off as hickies.. Being tied down to his bed as he beat me and choked me. And going home to no reactions to my tears or new marks. 

Forget it. Never mind it. 

I just hurt. My arms hurt. I have a bruise on each arm from the bands. I have 5 puncture wounds total. I have a headache. And the feeling of wanting to be held. Wanting to cry. But not feeling like I can trust anyone. 

That's not right. I know I can. But I can't. Walking through this is more painful than I thought it would be. Imma go outside and watch the rain for a while. If I'm lucky, I'll be asleep before 2:30am.