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Wednesday, April 21, 2010

I Sank to Her Level


I need My Dead Husband today, need him more than usual.  My son, who is 40 and has severe bipolar disorder, is being harassed by his sperm donor’s wife.  She is sending him facebook messages chastising him for past sins, real and imagined.  I want to find her and bite off her head and spit it down a mine shaft.

Clint was the only father Parrish knew, except in the most superficial of ways.  When P was two years old, I left the sperm donor, and when I did, the sperm donor abandoned his only child.  Any contact they had was engineered by me, who, fool that I am, thought a father and son should have some sort of, well, father-son relationship.

Wrong.  There was always conflict with the wife du jour, and I have wished a million times that I had just told P that his father were dead or in prison or somewhere outside his reach.  All my good intentions caused my child more harm than good, and he grew into manhood without the love and respect of his  biological father.  He grew into manhood believing - and rightly so - that his father did not love him.

Now this.  If Clint were here, he’d calm me down if it took a fire extinguisher to do it.  He would have advised me, in all his wisdom, to teach P how to block the bitch on facebook and forget about it.

But, he’s not here, and I went into kick-ass mode and sent the following message to the spawn of Satan:

There is a front row seat in hell for people like you, and I am certain that the devil is keeping one warm for you.  Don't you have anything better to do than to terrorize Parrish on facebook?  He has severe bipolar disorder, and for the first time in years, his doctors have his medications stable and he can actually function.  Chastising him for past sins will only make him sick again, so for God's sake, leave the man alone.  Thanks to your and Lawrence's unwillingness to accept that he is mentally ill, Parrish has spent time in prison when he should have been in a mental facility.  Aren't you proud?  Clint's death was very hard on him as he was the only REAL father Parrish had.  I am begging you.  Leave him alone.  His computer instructor is teaching him how to block your messages, so just give it up.  You have done all the damage you will ever have a chance to do.  And believe me when I say, if he dies before I do, you will not be notified.  Take your poison and spew it at someone else.  

It didn’t make me feel one bit better.

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