My heart is broken. I am angry and sad. Tonight, my daughter {#3 of my threefold, age 11} wrote her letter to Santa. She admitted she wants a lot for Christmas, but what she wanted most was to be able to see her dad. This shouldn’t be a request, a gift, or even a thought. You would assume that it would be an easy Christmas wish to grant. However, it’s not. This is because her dad, is the real Grinch.
The man she calls dad is not going to see her this Christmas or any of the three daughters that bear his name. It’s sad. It’s sad, because while he lives and breathes and walks this earth each day, he has chosen not to be a dad. The calls are rare, the visits are nonexistent, and the manipulation is heavy. Instead, drugs and toxic cycles of abuse and manipulation are his legacy.
Snapshots of Dad
The man she knows as dad chose drugs over being a parent. He chose his own selfish desires over being a dad. He chose a life that has no place for children and no room for a relationship with them. Its sad. Tragic and heartbreaking. My 11 year old wants a dad that he cannot be for her or her sisters. She compares him to the grinch. Bad on the outside, but deep down he is good. However, no matter how much we struggle even in “recovery” he refuses to be a participant in parenting.
A year ago he had money to spare from his 100k inheritance and sat unemployed. He smirked as he bought a new motorcycle, drums, camera, phone, computer and the list goes on.He went on vacation and to concerts. He bought drugs and partied regularly. Meanwhile, I struggled to pay our rent and buy Christmas for my threefold.
6 months ago, he had already pawned everything he owned. The one thing he had left was the car that he traded his 2022 Harley in for. That car became his home. This man who had physically, emotionally and financially abused mythreefold and I called ME for help and because I wanted to be better, I helped. I checked him into rehab. Drove him to the facility and even bought him the things he needed. I housed his belongings and kept his friends updated. I had divorced him, moved on with my life, but still tried for my threefold.
After Rehab, I got him into a sober living facility. A week in and he left. He showed up at my door and demanded his belongings. I told him we were done. I stood strong as he towered over me in my own yard. I called the police and he left.
All of this followed by a week of hell and we were scared as he sat stranded without gas money just a few miles from our home. Finally, he was rescued by a friend and he left town. He had vanished 500 miles away to live with his younger brother on the opposite side of the state.
Wish Ungranted
Months went by and we hadn’t heard from them. Last month, he began communicating with #3, the only one that still has affection for him. The one that still wants to believe his lies and sees hope in his darkness. The one that sees the good inside the grinch. I wish I could fix the bad, but I can’t. Mom is not made of magic.
Now, this. A letter to Santa. After 28 weeks of combined trauma care and crisis intervention for my youngest two daughters. I work my life away to provide the life we have. Up to 50 hours per week, side hustles, and resourcefulness. I don’t receive financial support from the government, nor do i get support from him. This is my hard work, blood, sweat and tears. Its that of the man that stepped up. This is 50k in medical debt, scrounging for grocery and bill money, a vehicle with a blown engine and prayers for a Christmas miracle that includes gifts under our tree. This. A gift I can’t give. The Christmas wish I won’t be granting. Although she understands, she doesn’t see how much I want to give her the dad she needs him to be, not the grinch he chose to be.
Per the request of readers & followers of My Threefold donations for My Threefold can be made via cash app $mythreefold or venmo @my3threefold. ☮️❤️😊~M
Holding back tears I asked, “DOES she have SOCKS?!” This was my BIG worry tonight as we walked through Walmart at 9:00pm on a rainy, random Wednesday night. College. My daughter is leaving for college…tomorrow and I’m worried about socks!? She is 18, dreams of being a psychologist, and the world is at her feet. Me, I’m the mom worried about if she will have socks as she goes out to show this world what striving for success and strength looks like!
I looked to the man who is my calm in the storm, casually walking a few steps ahead, he nonchalantly answers “yes.” I questioned him again. After all, I knew nearly every day, no matter how many pairs I buy, my girls are going to come steal my socks. In that moment he looked at me and calmly said “yes, your baby has socks.” I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.
Why was I crying in Walmart over socks? I’m sure I looked and sounded ridiculous. I was irritated. I was emotional. I was thinking about 18 years of time that came and went far too fast. I was happy and I was scared. So I was worried about socks. Silly, I was a wreck…but why socks?
It’s ironic, that a little over 18 years ago I was in labor. In fact, I vividly recall getting “new mom” anxiety at the hospital about socks for my new baby girl. I was asking the same question then as I was this very night. Of all things I was worried my baby wouldn’t have socks!
My mom rushed out to buy socks for my sweet baby and her tiny feet. In addition, she bought clothes to fit her tiny frame. My first was so little. My beautiful red haired, blue eyed, baby girl was full term, but weighed 6’8 and measured 17 1/2” long. So small. My first baby girl of my threefold, and my first true love.
Looking on as moms do, I saw my oldest daughter, with her two little sisters bickering. I laughed and tried to let them do their typical back and forth banter. I played the pull mom every direction and make sure she pays attention to each child. I tried to remain patient and calm as I listened to each tell me their “needs” or “wants”. My anxiety was growing, but not due to worry about her or even the other two of my threefold. I was forgetting something. Had to be.
As the night passed on I noticed my emotional state was becoming so high that I was becoming overly anxious. All the needs, wants and reminders flying around for all three girls. Then the little fights. As my anxiety increased so did my oldest daughter’s. I could see her feeling like she was getting “more” than her younger siblings. In addition, I could see her insecurity surrounding money start to make her flustered. As a result, I saw firsthand, that she was feeling all the anxiety I was trying to push down. Instead of her knowing why, I saw her viewing herself as the cause of every bit of my increasing anxiety.
I got her nearly everything she has needed over these past couple of months. We only have a few last minute needs to tie up. Yet, she still felt like she was causing my anxiety. That wasn’t it. Not at all. I was proud and wanted nothing more than for her to feel confident as she began college. Yet, I felt like I was failing her as our anxiety climbed together.
What I didn’t tell my oldest is that I wasn’t anxious over buying what she needed, her sisters bickering, or even the growing list. I was missing something, but I couldn’t place what.
This feeling was unshakeable. Maybe I was just being a mom and scared. However, I’m not scared of her making the wrong choices, failing, or getting into trouble. I know her on a level that goes beyond a typical mother/daughter relationship. We talk about everything. Above all, even if I don’t want to hear the truth, she doesn’t lie to me in the way most teenagers do lie to their parents.
Finally it hit me, right in that Walmart aisle and with those socks sitting on sale. I didn’t forget to make sure her feet were covered in clean socks. She had her toothbrush and pj’s. This went beyond the superficial level of material needs. I was forgetting the person who once inhabited that tiny frame.
She was moving beyond her past. I no longer saw a scared girl with anxiety standing in the aisles going through the mental checklist she made a year ago of everything she needed. I saw the person who had worked hard to find her own voice again. I saw a woman who was funny, kind, and a genuinely good person standing worried about her abilities.
My daughter deserves all things good. I want this for her and every good thing in life. She has sacrificed more than many. Furthermore, my oldest daughter has been my coparent even if she didn’t ask for that responsibility. She endured the hardest circumstances in submissive silence to avoid making life harder for herself, her sisters and I when the abuse we all endured was aimed in her direction. She suffered and sacrificed her childhood, her teenage years, and her own blood, sweat and tears to help her younger sisters and I survive .
Her strength isn’t only in the survival it’s in the story she is writing in spite of the circumstances she was raised in. That strength is in her smile that is contagious. The confidence in her own abilities and the goals she has chased, regardless of the people along the way who tried to tell her every reason she would never reach them.
Her complete transparency, self awareness, genuine kindness, and inclusive nature all are part of the backbone of her identity. It’s takes bravery to walk through the fire, but it takes perseverance to walk through that fire and not allow your entire life to be consumed by the pain.
It’s takes courage to love with your entire heart and give of yourself to others, even though that love and gift has been taken advantage of since you were young. It takes commitment to make a plan and to speak it to others, but it’s the determination that carries you across the finish line. It takes fight to face your worst fears, but it takes ferocity to overcome those fears.
My daughter is just another girl to the world, but she is going to change the world of the people who have the honor to know her. My daughter is beautiful, smart, and talented. However, she is more than any pretty pictures or my bias words could convey. My oldest daughter is the smallest of my threefold. Nonetheless, at 4’11, the truth that she has learned is “dynamite comes in small packages…BOOM!” Get ready, because this girl of mine is about to blow up on your scene.
She is my daughter, my first love, and I’m so incredibly lucky she calls me mom. She definitely has more than just socks these days, she has a whole suit of armor that she forged in the fire of her past. That armor is her success story. The one she has written each day along the way and will continue to write until it reaches completion. I am just happy to be on the sidelines cheering her on and supporting her through this crazy train ride called life. To my threefold, to my first little love. You’ve got this! Together we’ve got each other, always. ☮️❤️😊~M
I’m only a week overdue for posting the update I promised! Summer has come and nearly gone, but the moms out there trying to mom mental illness, mom it solo or even semi-solo, mom through it all, no matter what. We’ll ALL moms know breaks are for everyone else, but you rarely catch one. For me breaks are few and far between. Sometimes, you would consider a psychotic break comforting. After all, it means disassociation, detachment from reality, some sleep, and three meals per day where YOU didn’t have to think about it. Then there is that whole meds, people wondering when the next episode is, and everything that would be left undone. Nope, not worth it!
Summer Breakdown?
I am proud to say that, no, my threefold and I, nor ‘E’ or my bonus kid have suffered from any major breakdown nor has there been setbacks. That’s right! It’s been a rough summer for my threefold. More difficult than I had hoped for, however they have progressed in ways I never thought I would see. I couldn’t be more proud and relieved to know that we hit a very bad time, but we were able to see it through to a path that didn’t involve inpatient or injury to self, property or some major crisis. However, that hard time was the closure of a chapter for all.
Summer Bucketlist
I wanted a Disney movie wonderful summer of family fun and kids enjoying marking items off of bucket lists. I wanted us to enjoy our lives after I had watched my aunt bury 2 of her sons at 33 and 29, my cousins, 2/3 brothers, the kids I grew up with and people who hadn’t even had the chance to have their own family yet. We needed to remember that while we still have life. We needed to live it.
I wanted my threefold and I to spend some quality time together without the stress of the previous school year. I needed to have those memories and I thought that’s what they needed too. I had hoped for vacation time and for all of my family to reconnect on a level that said “this is the good life.” As a response, life said my plans were not the same as life’s. Apparently we needed something else to overcome. {eye roll}
Summer Broke
This summer was hell and I don’t mean just the heat, these demon bugs we call mosquitoes, or the fires that were sparked by my anger, anxiety or my agitated mood. I had too much going on and my focus was not in the home. It was definitely not on me. It was not on ‘E’. BOTH of our vehicles broke down. Financially we were still trying to recover from February and March’s medical bills of the over 10 weeks of inpatient and partial hospitalization we have already had between #2 and #3 of my threefold this year. Not to mention the 17 weeks we were still working on from the previous. As it always seemed to be we were struggling.
I was stressed to the point I wanted to snap. I was impatient with my threefold, sitting and scheduling my life away from them while home, and so out of my depths. My focus was frazzled, fried, and finally furious at the circumstances I was in. I felt I was being oblivious to an obvious problem, overworked, overwhelmed, overlooked and finally I was OVER IT!
Summer Burn
I was ready to say “I’m done!” As my workload increased to that of a person expected to wear every hat of each position like a seasoned executive who wrote the rule book. I was trying to do the job of my superior, my support staff, be my own assistant, trainer, lead designer, sales superstar, the best, and I suddenly hit a wall. I decided to resign.
I had a staff who was overworked and overwhelmed. I had great people. In addition, they were trying to help . I asked myself why was this becoming such a nightmare. and it hit me. I was trying to save a boat that was sinking and everyone was about to jump ship. Why?
We have had high turnover for a minute now. My people didn’t quit. They grinder it out. They liked me…right? Well, I am likable, funny, driven, and have the memory of a person that will never forget about things that are really important. I’m just trying to hard or doing something wrong. I was trying to make people happy. It wasn’t the job. It wasn’t even me. It was the chaos that had come over the castle. I was merely coordinating chaos, and not correcting the issues causing it. Maybe, if I resigned it would be the white flag of surender saying I can’t manage the mess.
Summer School
My fairytale summer was shattered with my DIY crash course that I called “combat training”. I was battling the war at work and not only just promoted to a role as assistant manager in March, but I hadn’t been trained on how the processes to correctly handle the job. I had no idea that I was making things worse by constantly covering for my missing commander and chief. My loyalty and love for him and my livelihood depended on me finding the fix to any problem and showing my people I was the company woman who could handle anything. Even if I was I second guessing my every move. I knew my confidence would see us to calmer coexistence we all needed. I lied.
Summer Cold
My stress was making me sick. I had lost another ten pounds. I was not eating, not sleeping well as my mind raced at night wondering what did you forget. In addition, my usual routines all halted. Self care was non existent and my tolerance for other people’s problems went to the bottom of the list. However, I kept pushing. Something was going to have to give.
I decided to part ways. I was ready to resign. It was obvious that I was allowing yet another person take advantage of me. I wanted to give back what I was given, but I was becoming someone I didn’t like. I was becoming an angry person who hated coming to work because I was going to have another day of covering for someone else I cared for, covering for the man lying to everyone, and someone refusing to admit there was a problem. I was watching my past repeat in a work environment. I couldn’t allow myself to be broken and to become cold living in a hell I could escape from. I needed to stop the insanity. I was at peace with that.
Summer Escape
I had come to terms with my decision and turned in my resignation letter with a final lie. My lie said I had found employment that would allow me to be home more and present for my threefold. It is the only lie I felt believable enough that they wouldn’t put up the fight for me to stay. My tears had poured out of me writing that letter. I was devastated that it was a chapter that I never thought would end. At least until I funded my life as a freelance writer, designer, marketing guru, Facebook money mogul in the blogosphere of moms or whatever other dream that will one day create independence from a standard 8-5 job.
I loved this job. It was my break from my personal issues outside of there. I am awesome at this job. I am too good, actually. I am overqualified and I’m beyond grateful for that. I loved everything about my job. That was until I took the place of the man who walked out of this position before me. Red flag, maybe, but I saw my opportunity to step up. In that opportunity I sacrificed the thing I said I would not overlook again with a promise of more and a hope for the future we deserve. My threefold.
Summer Stolen
I had worked my butt off, literally, for this company. I felt I owed them after they moved mountains for me last summer to make it where I could be a mom and also have the place I could put that part away just for a bit and do something I loved. I was ashamed of my behavior. I was saying we needed more money than my own family needed me. A struggle any single mom knows.
Instead of staying with #2 at the hospital and going to the inpatient facility where I was needing to admit her again, I left her room in tears as she said “mom, it’s ok, you can go. You have to.” Did I? Well I needed to be in two places actually three, but I needed to not lose a promotion due to my personal life, because money had to become a larger factor.
We all need this to happen. I convinced myselfI was doing the right thing. I know now she will always tell me what she thinks I need to hear in moments she thinks could be a burden. I was just blinded by a loyalty to a person who would use me and then replace me to save themself but I had no idea. As I was leaving I thought if I don’t get this promotion this will be enough to make me leave. I’m sacrificing more than I ever would, but hoped it would be better if I could have more control of the chaos. I could calm it as I could change the climate and bring the commander of my crew back.
Summer Storms
I got the promotion. The promises of change once our mid year inventory was over and the crisis at work calming down were as empty as any promise before. After deciding not to get blindsided by the brother who was thriving at this company, the man I fell in love with at this company and a few coworkers who had weathered this long hard season with me I was ready to make the move. My boss put up no fight or said any words of why I should stay. Instead, I was left thinking maybe he wanted me to leave. It was easy and unemotional. I was a mess about this, but me maybe I was just “replaceable”. I promised to help the next person as much as I could before the end of my notice in two weeks and was relieved. July would be the month that made our family reconnect and we could have some real quality time as a family. Again another storm brewed and I wouldn’t allow us to chase it anymore.
Summer Breakthrough
Little did I realize it was only the end of June and the chaos was fixing to get uncovered and everything was about blow up. I couldn’t have a summer break, I couldn’t afford a summer breakdown, we weren’t going to get a summer vacation that involved connecting and making the good memories of a life we were building and we had sacrificed for. This wouldn’t be the summer we deserved. It would be the summer that I found a way to breakthrough our barriers. It was the beginning of the new life. First we just needed to commit to weathering this summer storm and that was hitting us right at home.
It’s Father’s Day again. Another year you missed being a part of. What’s your excuse? I’m sure it’s my fault, somehow and some way. It always is. I kept them from you, I poisoned them against you, and I asked for a life that means I have to play both parts. In your mind, that’s the picture you paint.
Again, it’s Father’s Day and this year you actually saw all three kids and took them to the park then the mall. I even bought a card for them to sign. It wasn’t much, but I figured they wouldn’t want to see you empty handed. I’m glad they got to spend the day with you. After all, they don’t get to spend much time with you even though they had hoped things would be better and not worse.
I was seething with anger last year, but this Father’s Day, I am just sad for them. I am sad for my threefold who have spent a year begging you to be the dad they hoped for and the one they deserve. Yet, that’s not the father they got.
Instead, they have you as an example of what happens when you flush everything down the toilet, when you lie, cheat, use and steal. They get their father as an example of what happens when you excuse your faults and blame others for your mistakes. It’s truly sad, but it’s a lesson I will hope that they will learn from. A hard one.
You have lost everything. What’s it going to take? I wonder. You’ve stopped trying. First, you lost me, which should’ve just been a stepping stone to figuring out where you wanted to go in life, but it wasn’t. Next the kids, they stopped calling and visiting. Next, your job. Then girlfriend #1, and then all visitation ceased. Later, you lost the one person who loved you and supported you unconditionally. I think that’s what broke you.
Losing your grandmother was the one thing that broke your heart the most. Ever since it’s been another lost job, and another. You lost our old apartment and then your car. Just when you thought it would get better you bought a motorcycle instead of helping with your kids. You lost more visitation and then you lost your mind supposedly.
It didn’t take long for girlfriend #2 to see the manipulation and abuse you had put on those around you. You sold everything worth anything and then lost that too. The motorcycle, the car, the rent free living situation. Now another job. Finally, you’ve hit what I can only assume as rock bottom. You are homeless. You live in your car. You make no money and are barely scraping by day to day.
This Father’s Day is one where the sadness hits a low. I don’t know anymore if you’ll be here next Father’s Day and to even have that thought is sad. It’s true though, I’m not sure how you’ve managed to lose everyone around you, but there are three girls still hoping that you will become the dad they wanted and the dad they deserve. I’m hoping you find some peace in your path. This Father’s Day is here to show you that children give second chances, and third, and hope even when there is little proof that it will change. ☮️❤️😊~M
It’s been a while since we have spoken. However, today we did and I listened as you complained about how I have withheld visitation from you. I heard you as you spoke about my inability to communicate in a healthy way. I was forced to hear you blaming me for everything that our children are going through. I saw you roll your eyes when you saw the diagnosis of ‘trauma disorder’ listed on the paperwork. I saw the look of disgust on your face as I talked about recommendations for medication given by the doctors. I saw your eyes as they lit up as you listened to the way our daughter terrorized the household and felt the need to defend your every move.
#1 is the conformer of the group. She is the one that doesn’t rock the boat. She abides by the rules. I hear the constant apologies and the overwhelming guilt. She feels like if she makes herself small that she will stay safe.
#2 is the rebellious one. She spoke up so all of this is her fault. She is the scapegoat, the black sheep who started this all. You blame her for everything. You tried to shun her for being honest about your abuse. The abuse is ongoing. The fact is, she never stopped loving you only herself. She cut her body to shreds and tore her skin open, yet you still don’t see the pain you’ve caused. How are you so blind?
#3 is the golden child who does nothing wrong. She hasn’t seen the abuse the way her sisters have. The psychological torment you have inflicted is what she struggles with most. She is too young to understand, but she will. She is your last ally. You ply her with treats and gifts. Nonetheless, she still sees you as the super hero that does no wrong. You are the good guy. Your lies and manipulation are always forced onto her as truth. As a result, you have turned her against her sisters and I. She is your last hope, but you’ll hurt her too.
Then there is me. The ex wife who is crazy and tries to keep you from your kids. I am the only one that knows you and the monster inside. The marks on my face you once called love. The scars that are still left behind from the past remind me of that monster everyday.
Yet, I’m still standing. I’m still cleaning up the messes you leave behind. I work twice as hard now to protect these girls. I work even harder to provide for them. While you try to buy their love and affection, I earn it with my presence and consistency. I’m not the perfect person, and definitely not the perfect mom. However, I try my best every day, for them.
I will keep going and I will keep getting better. They are worth it. I hope one day you will appreciate their love for you and all the chances they give you to change. Maybe one day you’ll take the opportunity. However many times they choose to forgive you is a choice they make. Even if you hurt them every time, somehow, they are the ones that always take the first step to fix it.
I just hope that you don’t take the last pieces of them and destroy them completely. Although, I’m terrified that you will. I’m never going to keep them from you. In all honesty, I wish you would go away. Maybe then, they would have a chance to love themselves as I love them. I pray one day they will see themselves through a different lens than the one you created. Until then, I’ll be the mom they need me to be and work twice as hard to help them heal.
