If You Care About Sexual Assault Survivors, You Should Care About My CPS Case

Help me.

I walked into the courtroom a mother, and I walked out neutered.

Before the hearing, I was playing with my two young daughters and another child. A little girl, who had wandered away from her mother to come play with us. The mom was talking to another adult. This was a familiar dynamic. I’m not the best with adults; I’m awkward, anxious, and defensive. But I’m great with kids. Kids don’t make me nervous. Kids are sparky little humans who, most of the time, just need a little more love, attention, or food. Before the hearing where my daughters would be forever taken away from me, I held their hands and the hands of another child, a stranger’s child, the child of a mother who wasn’t paying attention, and skipped in a circle singing “ring around the rosy.” I colored with them, using the paper and crayons I had stashed away in my bag because I was the mom who always thought ahead. I sang with them. And then I walked into a courtroom and had them taken away by a magistrate who had seen none of that, and who knew nothing about me except that I went to methadone treatment for heroin addiction four years earlier.

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Keep Betty’s Battleground Alive!

Become a patron of Betty's Battleground and keep the PTSD-related content going! bettysbattleground.com

Hi all. If you follow my blog, you’ve probably noticed I haven’t been around as much as usual. And I’m sorry about that! Really, I am. I love producing honest, relatable content that helps other mamas with PTSD feel human, and which keeps me connected to the world at large. But with everything going on in my life, I’ve had to privilege paid work over blogging. I’ll link a few of my recent stories that I’m most proud of at the bottom of this post, so you can see that I haven’t been doing nothing. But as the year comes to a close, I want to offer you a way to keep Betty’s Battleground going. By asking you to support the blog through Patreon. Let’s keep ‘er alive…

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Rebuilding My Life From The Rubble Of Familial Abuse

https://whizolosophy.com/category/human-nature/article-poetry/penelope

Right off the bat: will you take a moment to click vote 10 times for my poem and essay in a contest?

Now, here’s the story…

Earlier this year I asked for your help. I asked you to donate so that┬ámy family could pay off our last month of rent in Seattle, and get to Florida in order to stay with my husband’s parents. If you follow my blog, you probably know my relationship with my in-laws has a…history. One that, looking back through the lens of the past few months, very much resembles the abuse cycle typically associated with intimate partner violence. There would be periods of unexpected, unwarranted gifts, intense generosity, and inclusion in family dinners and outings. Always followed by the inevitable gutpunch. Demands that I leave their home. Below-the-belt insults that prey on the vulnerabilities I was naive enough to express during times of peace. Shouting fits that ignored my children crying in the same room. Cruel gossip tearing me down to every other member of the family, ensuring that if my in-laws don’t like me, no one else will either. It was because of this that I wrote shortly after arriving, “I don’t know what the future will hold, but for now I’m going swimming.” Continue reading