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You gave me a name and then you ran away. #strangerdied

I received some news today. The man that fathered me has died. When I first heard the news, I felt like I did when friends would tell me one of their friends or family died. This is the simple feeling that a stranger has died. I haven't seen or spoken with this man in more than 40 years. Never an acknowledgement that I existed, not a single card or letter in my entire life since he left. The last time I saw him was when he lied to the court about his ability to pay child support.
I am not grieving, and I don’t know if that is normal. I feel a bit relieved and energized, as if a weight has been lifted from my back. If I have grief, I will feel it. I have grown up enough to know I have to feel to remain alive. My best guess is I have grieved losing him over my decades of depression. I am at a point in my life that I can now fell my emotions in the moment. #Death #DeadBeat

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Parenting, growing up, & becoming my parents

As much as I love, respect, and have appreciation for my parents I never wanted to become like them. There’s many ways and things I never wanted to do like my parents. I wanted to parent my own children differently, communicate differently, handle financial issues differently, but most importantly I NEVER EVER wanted to be a parent to a child who wasn’t legally or biologically mine. I saw and watched as they did that with my siblings and as much as I love them and wouldn’t trade them I didn’t want that for myself. I saw the hurt it caused and the strain on relationships. I watched as they had no control over any major decisions and could feel their fear every second of the day. They had an unimaginable amount of fear of their biological parents scooping them up and never allowing them to come home again. Now at 22 I am exactly like them, I parent and love a child who isn’t mine. Which means I have a whole new understanding to my own parents. My child’s biological parents are deadbeats until it suits them. His father supports him financially and visits every few weeks or so. His mother lives right down the street and only wants him when it’s convenient or when she’s on a power trip. I’m the one raising him day in and day out. I care for him when he’s sick. I’ve been there for all of his major milestones and so much more. My heart breaks for him as his parents don’t care enough to be there for him or to just leave him be. He’s my whole world and hurts and is scary that I might wake up one day and they’ve decided to take him. I knew I couldn’t handle the heartbreak my parents had over and over for years, yet here I am and I don’t know how to deal with it or what to do. #Parenting #DeadBeat #heartbreak #Fear

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It comes from me.

His eyes, his smile, his face, his dna comes from them. His personality, his character traits, his eating habits, his thought process comes from me. As I start the day watching his every move I notice how when he laughs his face looks just like his fathers. When I end the day watching his every breath I notice he sleeps like his mother. During the time that fills the in between I notice his loving heart, his picky eating, his stubborn will to do everything different. He’s been given his dna and his looks to him by them, but everything else comes from me. He watches how I treat people day in and day out. He watches my dedication to him and his well-being day in and day out. He knows and see how I love and care for him day in and day out. All the work that I do all of time that I put into raising this child and they can swoop in and take him whenever they want. I sit at night watching him, taking in every detail of his face for fear that they would take him from me. I can’t do anything to change this, I can’t change the situation. I watched my parents do it for years before my sister was adopted and I never thought I would do the same. I love this little boy more and more with every breath I take. I watched him enter this world and never would I thought that I would have become a mom that day. #DeadBeat #Genetics #NaturevsNuture #Raisingsomeoneschild #Parents

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Was I set up for failure?

I was going to be the greatest teacher in the United States.

I was going to have the best room, the best lessons, and the best kids.

I was going to have a job to be proud of.

I was going to to do it all.

I first accepted that I had a problem the night before ,y student teaching experience.

I sat at my desk.

I was rocking.

I was sweating ice-water.

Electricity was running under my skin.

How do I teach? What do I do? How do I plan?

I ran laps around my basement sobbing, trying anything to make the adrenaline go away so I could focus.

Tears.

Vomit.

Sleepless night.

These episodes continued.

Fast forward a year. I am teaching fourth grade.

Mornings full of tears, jitters, and me hiding in the closet.

A concerned but frustrated husband.

A boss putting me on a “plan.”

Me quitting just to feel like I can breath.

Getting a job at an alternative high school.

A student grabbing me by the collar.

A fist in my face.

Threats of death.

Gun threats.

Drowning in worry.

Quitting after 3 months.

Getting a job at a daycare.

Loving the job.

Succeeding.

A few months go by.

Feeling ready to be in the typical classroom again.

Quitting the daycare job out of impulse when offered a Catholic school teaching job.

I’m feeling really excited.

I’m feeling prepared.

I’m planning.

I’ve got this.

The night before school starts.

I’m ready.

Husband starts telling me about his job over dinner.

My ears start roaring.

My skin is hot.

What’s that buzzing sound?

Panic.

Tears.

Hyperventilating.

I’m vomiting.

How did I get on the floor?

Vomit.

I don’t want to teach.

Vomit.

I’m unemployed.

I’ve never been unemployed.

What do I do?

Was I set up for failure?

I was going to be the best teacher in the United States. #PanicAttack #Depression #Jobs #DeadBeat

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