I know I am not wanted, but I am not ready to leave

Yesterday, I learned more of where I am not welcomed, wanted and needed. Maybe it’s my own doing, maybe like my sons father tells me it’s my karma, maybe it’s my punishment, or lessons that God feels I need. I don’t know... I truly no longer care. I go through the motions, strive to do better, be better accomplish more, but until others get past the past I have no chance. That doesn’t fall on me, I often hear that “once you get back to a better place, things will change...” it’s not me that hasn’t tried, it’s not me that chose a treadmill... I have done all I could and can. You either help or hurt the cause.... I tried. 

I sit on a supervised visits with my daughter and timer, not because I deserve it or because I get paid to do it, but because it’s the only way to see her. I received 19 texts in two weeks from my sons father telling me how much more I am worth dead. I don’t stay alive and call my son nightly to hear his dads opinion, I do it because I love my son. I have received word of my “cousin” offering to give me the gun if I kill myself because it’s what I deserve. I don’t take him up on his offer because I know he’s a sicker for saying it and wanting it than I am for being where I am. I know the difference between loving my daughters more than anything, more than hating someone else. 

I have been shunned and isolated because of what I admitted when I was wrong, and stopped fighting the lies based off of those truth when others feel the need to focus on my shortcomings not their own. 

I don’t have much of a family, which baffles me when we can cover for those that have had violent crimes against our own and others. I fell short of the pedestal. I make mistakes but I try and correct them. Maybe I am misunderstood, maybe I am misunderstanding. I am only as good as what I have and I no longer have anything. 

I am hurt I am sad and I appreciate everyone thinking that I will be fine just because I always have been... I am not fine. I am not going to hurt myself or do anything “stupid” I refuse to give anyone that satisfaction.  

I died yesterday. Obviously not physically, I can’t physically because my children would only hear one side. And it’s not the right side for them to hear. I am ok. I am sober. I am not suicidal or depressed or illogical. I am hurt. I am alone and I am scared. I am more disappointed in others than I am myself.  

https://www.youcaring.com/thechildrenofmelissafrederickfagan-987147

For you, In Spite of Everyone Else... Love, Mom,

For Makenna

Tomorrow, May 21, 2018 at 7 pm my beautiful blue eyed baby girl will graduate Nease High School at the University of North Florida Auditorium in Jacksonville, Florida. I will not be in attendance. Against my desire, I am honoring her father and hers decision to “stay away.”  My daughter who will graduate 17 years to the day of her father and my divorce, does not want me there. She is graduating in spite of me not because of me. 

I was 22 when I had Makenna, I wanted her more than anyone can imagine. I wanted her to be Karissa’s best friend, counterpart and to complete her father and my family. It was a difficult pregnancy, and she had some health issues, but she fit her place in, her purpose was clear. She changed the world from birth. I nursed Makenna exclusively for 1 full year. She is the only one of my 4 children I was willing and able to do this for. Maybe it’s why I felt so close to her. Maybe it was because I knew she was meant to be regardless of the state of my marriage. She was made to be my daughter, Karissa’s sister and one day so much more. 

Do not get me wrong, I love Karissa very much. More than most and if you ask her she will tell you she’s “moms favorite. “ Somedays it’s true. But Karissa was always so independent, sassy, the center of the universe. Makenna, although loved just as much had a different captivating quality as she often stood in Karissa’s shadow, she watched more and took it all in. Where Karissa would copy bad habits, Makenna would consciously avoid them. 

It was on Makenna’s first birthday that her dad confessed his indiscretions, and 2 months after that I didn’t love him and he filed for divorce. I tried working a normal office job, but childcare was costly. I worked at a preschool, and went to school at night. While my best friend, and 12 years later my sons father, helped with the Girls. They lived with me 10 months a year and left on Summer to visit their dad. It was then I also took on being a cocktail waitress (not a very good one) in addition to the schools. 

Karissa was always very popular, even in preschool. Makenna was the child who always got bit. She never bit back. She just learned to stay away. 

In the first grade, she learned her greatest asset. After Karissa was diagnosed with dyslexia, and we realized it wasn’t about her applying her self at all. Makenna went full force with her academics. Where Karissa was athletic, outgoing and popular. Makenna was studious, intelligent, hard-working and scholarly. Even when In trouble and Karissa didn’t know to shut up, Makenna always did. She never challenged me. 

In the 8th grade I had a conversation with Makenna about trying to find her the right fit for high school. Karissa had left the year before to make better friends and decisions, and it was now just me Kenna and Cam. Makenna was picked on throughout her child hood. But she was so much stronger than her sister and I in that situation. Where we would choose to avoid and move to start over again. Makenna didn’t she went through the the daily motions, graciously. 

Look I wasn’t the worlds best mother, I made LOTS of mistakes, probably more than most moms. I could give excuses or reasons or blame my childhood, but the fact is why I made them doesn’t matter just that I did. However, I did NOT make nearly the amount of mistakes others claim I did or for as long as they say. 

When Makenna chose the IB Program at Cocoa Beach High School. We couldn’t imagine the joy it would bring her. She made friends, and had people to sit with at lunch, she had other kids “just like her” that she bonded with. Ironically her IB project was a blog, and later inspired me... (You’re Welcome) 

This is about the time I met my still, yes still, husband and youngest child’s father. He claimed to love Makenna, he even split the cost of her first homecoming dress just so she’d have the one she wanted at $150. And although things didn’t get worse immediately, ultimately that homecoming dress changed out destiny. 

Makenna was more my co parent to her brother, I didn’t realize it then mainly because I took it all for granted. When we moved in to “his” house it was a relief, for a second then Makenna found out I was pregnant. She wad furious, in hindsight she was furious because she all this time sat back and watched and knew what was too come. I ignored all the warnings in the want of no longer being a single mom but a family.  In the end it was me wanting to be a family that cost me my family. After Nina was born we made changes to alleviate Makenna’s responsibilities in helping with the little and being more of just her. I thought she was doing great, I though we all were doing great. Then came the rabbit hole, due postpartum, wrong medication an egotistical doctor and a husband with a god complex. It all went down the rabbit whole. When things started to get bad, I sent Makenna to stay with a friend in order to keep her in her school. All I wanted was to keep her in her school. I didn’t think about the perception or feelings that she would have from that. I didn’t think of the opportunity I was allowing for those that tried for so long to fight for her for money credit to come in and use what I thought was the right thing against me. 

The first thing her father said when they changed our custody was “what about the child support?” Not what about seeing her brother, or maintaining

 a parent child relationship like I did all those years I heard how much they hated him. Not once did they get to go a week with out calling/answering his call, not one holiday did they not speak to him, not one school function did I not invite him too, inform him about, it ask him to attend. Not on from the one year old room through the Tenth grade. 

Yes I had full custody of Makenna from 1 years old until 16 years and 2 months. I did every school project, book report, drive her to and from school, helped secure her scholarship, was there for her first 5k, brought first day and every other day school clothes, I helped her with party favors, birthday cakes, holiday presents, study... I did all I could for those 194 months to make her want for nothing. To over compensate my short comings and faults. I was blessed with a dad who did financially contribute $700 a month of based on his $30k a year salary when we divorced, for 12 years. When he made $146k I asked for nothing more, he asked I take less. When the judge awarded me $1300 a month based on his $171k salary, I took only $900 of it. I provided the childhood, he financed it. Then when I fell down the rabbit whole he took our daughter not to what she needed but what he wanted. He told her things that are NOT true. I know he doesn’t know the truth because he’s never asked for it. He tells her my psychosis was street drugs not that it was antipsychotics that he knows had the same affect on me in the past when he had me put on them after her birth. That is how he was able to advise on what I “should get” to others. 

But again I am not innocent my psychosis and separation and fall down the rabbit hole and well chasing the white rabbit, those I let get the best of me. I shouldn’t have sent Makenna away when things got bad, I should have went with Makenna. And every day I regret that decision. If it makes her feel better to not have me at her graduation, I didn’t fight about it, I didn’t cry or beg or act out, I just said “Ok, Kyle.” 

 But... I want to say this to my daughter: 

I am so proud of you and your achievement, how you have overcome every obstacle in your path, from womb to date. I love you very much and not one day goes by that I don’t miss you. You seem happy, and I am glad. You haven’t opened my Wednesday emails in about a year and it’s been 606 days since you spoke to me. I know you don’t forgive me, but I forgive you. You won’t understand that today but one day when you are a mom, I promise you will. As you walk the stage and graduate and continue your education, I hope that you grow to think, learn and know beyond what you have been told. I love you. Cameron loves you. You will change the world, and to me you already have. I didn’t give you up Makenna because of you anf your sister and who you are I was convinced I was a good mom. I am sorry if you think I was not. Nothing I did was with malicious intent. I am sorry, I am so sorry. But Makenna, I will not let anyone be convinced that you are doing this in spite of me. You are the reason it’s been done I can’t take that from you. I can only take the belle to the ball, I can not make her dance... but I will watch in awe from afar as you do it. 

Happy “remember that time I was a Mom,” Mother’s Day to Me, A letter to from a victim of Parental Alienation

It’s harder than Christmas for someone like me. I mean don’t get me wrong, I am blessed for what I do have like visits and contact with my children. Because as we all know, he’d take that away if he could too. But, it’s hardest not getting the presents made in school from the kids, not having them bring me breakfast in bed, not hearing the silly “mom” Poems and stories, not hearing the simplistic statement “Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.”  I take my responsibility in my current situation. It wasn’t just him who hurt me and my family. My bad decisions and ultimate choices to ignore my instincts and believe in someone I was convinced was greater than me (him) and something bigger than my instincts (love) hold plenty of accountability. What’s the saying? “The only time I have ever been wrong is when I doubted myself.” All the acceptance of blame and apologies, do not change today. Tomorrow isn’t looking like much of a change either. 

It’s hard being a mom without her children. It’s harder being called a “bad mother” and questioned on the “real reasons” my lack of custody exists.... why ask? Everyone seems to know the answers. I was crazy. I was Violent. I was addicted to drugs. I was abusive. I was out of control. I know, I have heard all the reasons you have told me repeatedly. Sadly, those reasons I would understand. Those reasons I could accept. The true reasons that I hear regularly are these “it doesn’t matter what the truth was now Melissa it is what it is,”  and “sometimes life isn’t fair Melissa, just deal with it.” The truth is, I lived in fear and hoped to be crazy more than right. Unfortunately no matter how hard I tried, all signs  pointed to right, and the more I realized I was right, the easier he was able to convince US all I was crazy. It was panic, not insanity. The difference between being scared of someone and saying you are scared of someone isn’t always apparent to those on the outside. I can’t say it enough or loud enough.... he will always be able to convince others of his side, he is a liar, manipulator and a narcissist, he will always win with his charm over my honesty. 

So today, on most mothers’, Mother’s Day, I will spend it with one of my 4 children. The one child never taken from my custody. The one I have never had a supervised visits with. The one who tells me every visit “you are the best mommy, I don’t know why they don’t know that.” I will sit by my phone in hopes at the older children will call. Knowing  one will eventually, the other will probably not because she is also convinced and angry like so many others. I will hope that my husband, yes still, will allow me and my son time today to see the baby. I will hope that my Father-in-Law will make the time to supervise the visit. As my son reminded me, Mother’s Day and my Birthday are the only 2 days that he sees his sister. I will hold my breath that today, aside from giving the adolescent, entitled and raised by trash mistress turned girlfriend a “not really but I’ll call you it and you will gladly accept and gloat” Mother’s Day present, and celebrate at a soccer game, where they will pretend in public in addition to social media, that she is his wife, and a mother; and grandma spends her day enjoying, loving and caring for our daughter... that someone will acknowledge me as her mom. It is doubtful, but all I can do is hope. 

For someone who is a horrible mom, one not to be trusted or involved in her children’s life. I will spend my Mother’s Day, remembering what it felt like to be a mom. A real full-time, exhausted, but grateful mom with children in her home. I will look at old Mother’s Day projects, and cry, remembering how good I believed I was at the role God blessed me to be to these 4 beautiful beings. I will still sit on the floor for whatever time I am allowed on Monday and Tuesday nights, while my daughter says I love you, and calls me momma, knowing, that all that word is to her is a name, not a meaning instead of Melissa, I am momma. I will call my son every night at 8:05 to ask about his day, instead of tucking  him into bed like I used too. I will email my second born telling her I miss her every Wednesday even though it’s been a year and a half since she opened the last one. I will wait for my 19 year old to have a minute aside from working, living and being 19 to call to make plans with me and not cancel, just because she’s 19, lol.  They say that being a mom is all about effort and can be a sacrifice that no other knows....I may not have been able to keep my children, may have not been able to keep the daily rewards of being on their lives like the traditional mother I was.  But I will still do whatever I can to be their mom in any capacity I can. On my remember that time I was a Mom, Mother’s Day, I hope you know and they do too, that I still am their Mom.

New Year Resolutions, Revelations, and Redeptions

I hear how proud people are of me “now” but nothing has really changed from the start of this.... I’m still just as confused and still just as hurt and still feeling lost. “Time heals all wounds” people say,and although that may be true... the scars will always remain. I smile more than I used to! I cry less frequently than I did before. However, when I do allow myself to cry it’s usually a heavier sob... not just tears. I replay it all, still everyday. I hear the words we both said the instances that occurred, I see the writing on the wall, and I hear the unspoken words screaming at me. I guess just living with the aftermath has become my new normal. 

I have realized this will define me, forever. No matter how may people that can testify to the contrary beliefs of Chad and his “side” believe to be true, his words will be the words that I am known for... it sucks. He is the convicted felon with a history of drug charges, not me. I guess the truth of the matter is I never had a “drug problem” until I married a “drug dealer”. But none of that matters, his past is irrevelant, his current situation doesn’t matter much either, he is and will always be the non offending parent. My daughter when I visit tends to have dirty feet, dropped off in socks only, and a size too small diapers. I get it, she’s a toddler, toddlers get dirty and messy.... but no matter how many outfits I purchase or diapers I bring, they are not used. My offers are refused, often returned or donated, because he wants her to have nothing from me. But “they” tell me, over and over, that he is a “great” father and his companion is a “good person,” I disagree. But then again “they” say I am the sick one, unfit. 

His attorney told me I burned my bridges with people from his “camp.” Well, let me say that I am sorry. But we didn’t stay on the same campgrounds before and I am pretty sure his “camp” has been told things and has not known me for more than 3 years, their opinions are biased and based onthe behavior of a mother dealing with postpartum depression, 2 on going custody cases and threats, while being in an emotionally and verbally abusive relationship. In other words, some bridges need to be burned to assure one doesn’t cross back over them. 

When I think about my children my heart hurts, actual pain hits me. I wish I could explain it, and anyone who has truly lost someone can understand. But I lost not someone but everyone. “Because of my issues” that’s what his attorney said.... “my issues” were postpartum depression with a husband who antagonized me and abused me to the point of breaking down. I will admit it, he made me feel worthless, I worried how I would survive, I didn’t think I could. But I have, I will. I want answers, but he’s a coward and he won’t answer them, in fact he won’t look at me or speak to me. He wants things from me I can’t give him and I want things from him he won’t give me. If I lose this case it’s not for lack of trying.... I won’t give up. Because regardless of what kind of mother others are convinced I am, I would want my children to figh and not coward down. If you know me, or know of me please know this.... the question really isn’t how did I let this happen the REAL question is how did “THEY”? 

If you sleep next to him, work with him, love him or are cordial with him...if you coexist with him... ask yourself this... or even better, ask him. Why is his date of separation June, no calls of concern were mad until September, I went on medication for postpartum in April. In September, he stood in front of a judge and said “All I want is for my wife to get healthy and better and I want nothing more than for our marriage and family to improve.”  So why June? Why did he give up on me in 3 weeks? Why did he move on in 4 weeks? Why did I buy his now “companion” presents for 2 years? Why could she never look me in the eyes? Why is there a picture on Facebook of his ex “roommate’s” dog on my blanket, on my couch, dated during my voluntary baker-act to make myself better for him? Why is he able to go to 15 soccer games, 5 concerts, and 3 overnight vacations without our child? Why is there $20,000 in credit card debt, in a years time, but none show the household bills and he gets state assistance? Why is their marital credit card debt in my name when I have never had a credit card? More importantly why can I not see the credit card statements? Why is there a waiver of breach in the documents he tells me to “sign or else?” 

But the one question I truly have and everyone should as well is.... how did he allow this to happen? Not just to me, but our daughter, my children and our families.  Why when I fell did he not help me up but pushed me down? As for his “good person” companion, I have one question for you... why do you let him, why do you not require him to be a better person? That’s what he used to tell me was the reason he loved me. I am guessing your “assets” and allowance trumped my love and intolerance. Co-dependency comes in many forms. Some choose drugs, others chose alcohol or gambling, other they chose people. I am not less of a person, I just had a different vice.

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