“In the child’s best interest”. That’s a phrase the judge that’s dragged out our custody case for more than three years now, likes to throw around.
Here’s what the child’s best interest looks like.
Seperated from Mom, the primary caregiver who was kicked out of the home for no reason specified.
Placed under restricted supervised visitation by a social worker, for no specific reason or path to “rehabilitation”. Initially, I was supposed to see my kid for four hours twice a week with a social worker, but what social worker does that? So I ended up seeing him 6 hours over a period of 6 weeks.
It has been over three years, and we are still under supervised visitation. Not warranted, not requested by child. Encouraged by forensic psychologist but no reason given.
We have been through a dozen people and homes. We split our time between traveling, a boiler room and strange beds. Sometimes we’re relegated to the basement, the front steps, the local park, the library. Almost every week we travel almost two hours to the plave where we can be supervised. We arrive in time for bed, sometimes eating dinner in the car, only to wake up at the crack of dawn to drive back to a school that does not meet the needs of my child.
My kid has been deprived of an education.
He has been deprived of coming home to a loving parent and home, where a hot dinner awaits. Instead we’re eating takeout two/three times a week at $20-$30 a pop.
He has been COMPLETELY cut off from family and friends. Completely. No play dates, no extended visits.
We have been ripped from our home. Our possessions stolen. Or left to strangers.
He has lost space for playing. For toys. For frolicking in the grass and sun.
He is being denied any therapeutic help.
He is being fed lies about his mom. By dad.
He is being interrogated after every single visit with Mom.
My kids health is at an all time low. Emotionally and physically neglected.
He travels a public bus alone without any form of communication every single morning at 7am, for an hour, and on days I don’t travel in myself, afternoon. Anybody could kidnap him and he’d have no way of reaching out.
We live with constant anxiety. Will someone take us in this week? Or not?
It’s been over three years that we have spent a holiday or weekend together.
I am not an alcoholic.
I am not abusive.
I am not mentally or physically incapable of caring after him.
My PTSD is so bad, and yet I get blamed. They hit me, and then they accuse me of being hurt.
We are suffering abuse in a place that’s supposed to protect.
A trial that’s over two years long.
An attacking lawyer.
An unsympathetic judge.
I have no hope.
If you can help us, please please please do.