You Are Exceptional

Life feels so dreary these days. My little rays of sunshine are away in Austin with their uncle, and as much as I would love to be with them, that privilege has been stripped away from me. This whole CPS case is leaving me feeling more depressed than I was three weeks ago in the psychiatric unit. The kids are taken to their uncle’s at 6 in the morning. While I can go with them, I’ve been staying at my mother’s which is a good 20-minute drive away from my apartment. Even if I stay at my sister’s (who lives, at most, a 10-minute drive away) I don’t have the proper transportation to get me back to my apartment at 5 AM and then back to my sister’s at 10 PM. It’s a waste of resources we just don’t have right now. It makes my heart hurt knowing I can’t be left alone with my children. Yes, I know why this situation has been set in place. I know I wasn’t safe to be around due to the fact that my schizophrenia hit it’s peak, but I’m tired of being treated like a bomb that can blow at any moment. I’m getting tired of having to have someone with me at all times just so I can be with my children. I abhor the fact that I’m in this situation. I’ve taken damn good care of those children, my flesh and blood, for almost seven years now without prior incident. I lose my mind, and seek help, knowing that I could be a danger to my children, and get punished for it! I wish I could go back to the hospital and smack the stupid social worker who started this mess, who has never suffered from a mental illness in her life. If I was truly going to hurt my children, wouldn’t I have done it by now?! The thought of all this gives me headaches. I detest the feeling I get when I wake up in the morning, in my mother’s guest bedroom, surrounded by no one. I don’t wake up to a baby talking and squealing. I don’t get to tell toddlers to stop opening my door. I don’t get woken up by kisses. I’m alone in a king-sized bed with no one to share it with. I’m not allowed overnight stays at my own apartment if my children are there. I’m wondering if I should have stayed at the psychiatric unit. It’s not much different from what I do here. At least there I had people to talk to, activities planned to take up time during the day. At least there I wasn’t so alone. I could legitimately miss my kids and my husband because they were 160 or so miles away. This void feels superficial. My children are in the same town as I am and I can’t even be with them. I’m trying to stay positive. I understand why the social worker called CPS. I understand why CPS is taking the measures it needs to. I understand, but just because I understand doesn’t mean I like it. Just because I understand doesn’t mean I think this entire situation is ridiculous and a taint to my good name. It’s hard to stay positive when I’m not allowed to be alone with my kids in our own home. I feel drained. The medicines I’m on work. I’m finally better and I can’t even enjoy it. I finally get a vacation away from the children and I don’t want it. It was forced upon me. I’m still depressed, but no amount of medicine could make me feel better right now. Every time I have to say good bye to the children at night makes the rest of that night disagreeable to the nth degree. A whole month left of this preposterous case. I hope I can make it. My psyche has been through enough; I don’t want to end up where I started.