Self-Justifying Document
Yesterday, the Chester County court system saw fit to grant partial custody of my daughter to my ex-husband. I find this frightening on too many levels to express adequately, but I'm working on trying.
I ranted for over an hour to several different people on the phone about it, hoping to figure out who I might be connected with that could stop the transfer of my daughter into the den of inequity, the swarming nest of psycho-drama to which my ex returned when we split, the hideout of the unfortunate where my ex currently resides, but with no immediate satisfaction. Friday the order was given, Sunday the transferor will be made. The one thing keeping me from becoming delirious with concern for her welfare is that she herself says she's 'ok' with it. With that, and the fact that I prefer to work on the side of the law, I have to sit and have some sort of faith that the freak a**hole will behave himself and extend his recognition of his responsibilities beyond his own limited conception of personal space to keep the environment he may put or keep his own child in safe and healthy enough to at least adequately meet her needs. Faith is belief without proof. My daughter wants to spend some time with her daddy and I have to take a huge f***ing leap of faith to sit back and allow it to happen. I'm just hoping that if I check in with her on a regular basis she will feel secure and I will know if anything might be occurring that needs outside attention. I want to do what's right for her. In todays world, with so many different takes on just what is right or wrong, it's not easy to know just what path to take. Maternal instincts can be pretty loud and primitive but I've got all my years of education, experience and *cough* etiquette to pull it along the path of the socially acceptable.
...
So, yeah. I'm scared the big oaf may hurt her.
I ranted for over an hour to several different people on the phone about it, hoping to figure out who I might be connected with that could stop the transfer of my daughter into the den of inequity, the swarming nest of psycho-drama to which my ex returned when we split, the hideout of the unfortunate where my ex currently resides, but with no immediate satisfaction. Friday the order was given, Sunday the transferor will be made. The one thing keeping me from becoming delirious with concern for her welfare is that she herself says she's 'ok' with it. With that, and the fact that I prefer to work on the side of the law, I have to sit and have some sort of faith that the freak a**hole will behave himself and extend his recognition of his responsibilities beyond his own limited conception of personal space to keep the environment he may put or keep his own child in safe and healthy enough to at least adequately meet her needs. Faith is belief without proof. My daughter wants to spend some time with her daddy and I have to take a huge f***ing leap of faith to sit back and allow it to happen. I'm just hoping that if I check in with her on a regular basis she will feel secure and I will know if anything might be occurring that needs outside attention. I want to do what's right for her. In todays world, with so many different takes on just what is right or wrong, it's not easy to know just what path to take. Maternal instincts can be pretty loud and primitive but I've got all my years of education, experience and *cough* etiquette to pull it along the path of the socially acceptable.
...
So, yeah. I'm scared the big oaf may hurt her.