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Learning To Fly

How I Ruined My Own Life And Then Made A New One

By Katie CarterPublished 6 years ago 7 min read
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May 22, 2015. A date I can never forget. My parents called the police because I was drunk and yelling. In the middle of the day. How did I get here??

I had been self-medicating with alcohol for years. Day drinking was my thing. I knew when the bars opened. I was a social binge drinker. I would drink until I forgot who I was, and nothing hurt anymore. It had gotten WAY out of hand. I deserved the drunk tank that day.

The handcuffs dug into my wrists, ultimately leaving large bruises. I was put into a cell to detox. We live in a small town. The jailers all knew me. They knew my story. They had great fun saying mean things to me. I let it all slide until I heard it. A voice I can never forget or forgive for his cruelty. "Your parents gave the kids to your ex-husband."

WHAT??! NO. Just.....no! My sweet little boy can not thrive in an environment with his abusive father. I threw myself against the bars. I had to get out; I had to get Kobi. Finally, exhaustion won, and I laid on my cot and cried out loud for my baby boy. My Kobi. No.

When I sobered up, I was allowed phone calls. I was informed that I no longer had a place to live (we'd been living with my parents for years so that I could be a caretaker for my mother, who is deteriorating from MS.) I didn't have a car anymore. The one I was given as payment for caretaking was never put in my name. The kids were with their father, 90 miles away. My parents disowned me that day. It was too embarrassing to have a daughter that drank during the day and caused a scene.

I sat down on the bench outside and breathed in the air. At least I wasn't in a cell. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks; where earth would I go? My parents had a no contact order. My weasel of an ex husband had obtained a protective order. I couldn't contact or see my children until we'd gone to court. I started to sob. Deep, ugly sobs that wracked my whole body. I do not remember her name, but the bail bonds woman had come up behind me. I hadn't heard her and her voice startled me. "Do you have anywhere to go?" she asked with genuine concern. I managed to shake my head no through the sobbing. That bail bonds woman probably saved my life, and I don't even know her name. She remembered me though, because of my ex-husband's many arrests for assaulting me.

She gave me a ride to a local abused womens' shelter. I must have looked like hell at this point. A woman younger than I am ushered me in. I sat on a couch and started my application. My brain was just spinning and spinning. I kept writing the wrong date. I finally filled out all the forms. I looked up at the young woman and said "I really am a good person. Please give me a chance."

She hugged me (I'm not a hugger but I accepted this one gratefully.) She whispered to me "I know you are. You just lost your way." I was accepted into the shelter.

It was a nice big clean house and I had a room to myself at first. Which was a good thing, because I spent a lot of time sobbing in bed. Kobi. Kobi. Kobi! I had promised him. I promised that little boy he would never have to live with his father. My 16-year-old daughter was so angry with me. She had chosen to go live with him a month before my arrest. She doesn't talk to me, and that's ok. Her feelings are valid. One day, she will want her mom, and I will be here waiting.

I was granted supervised visitation with Kobi. My grandma was the supervisor. We would sleep at her house every other weekend. I never missed a weekend. Kobi was distraught. At 9 years old, he didn't understand why we couldn't just 'go home'. He never wanted me to leave when visitation was over, and I think we both cried every time he went back to his dad's.

I got my shit together. I just did it. For Kobi. That little boy is everything to me. He is beautiful and insanely intelligent. Everyone who meets him loves him. I watched over the course of our visits and saw that he was being crushed at home. Stifled. His dad doesn't allow boys to cry. Ever. Kobi is a little empath. He feels EVERYTHING and he feels it so deeply. His dad won't let him sing. His voice hasn't dropped yet and he sings in a beautiful soprano. His dad won't let him sing unless he can sing lower, 'like a man.' Kobi's spirit was being crushed. I needed to fight. It was momma tiger time.

I went down to the courthouse to find out how to go about getting custody of my son back. I'd raised him alone since he was 2. I am his safe place. His soul needs to be near me. I was handed the current standing order, and told that the temporary order giving my ex husband custody had expired. He had done nothing to obtain permanent custody. He had been served when the order expired. But I wasn't ever served. So many emotions. So much anger. For 4 months my son endured his father's rule when HE SHOULD HAVE COME TO ME.

The victim's advocate helped me formulate a plan so that Kobi's father couldn't get violent or make a scene, and we would be safe. We got clothing from the thrift store. Someone donated a quilt and some stuffed animals, which I arranged on the bed that would be his. We went down to the school right before the school day ended. Copies of the paperwork showing that I had sole custody were provided to the school. They called Kobi to the office. He had no idea what was going on. I bent down to his level and kissed the top of his head, inhaling his wonderful Kobi smell. I looked into his big green eyes. I said "You know how you always ask me to save you?" He nodded yes. I said, "Today is the day, Kobi. I'm saving you. Right now." There were tears and happy dancing on Kobi's part. We took him back to the shelter and I informed his father that we were enforcing the permanent order for sole custody RIGHT NOW.

That dumb ass came to the shelter. They wouldn't let him in. Kobi was safe in another building and didn't have to see any of it. His father punched the building. He threw himself on the ground like a 2 year old, cussing and making threats. I watched through the glass. We were safe. Kobi was safe. Police were called. He almost got tazed. One of the responding officers had been present for my arrest in May. He hugged me and told me he thought the next time he saw me I'd be dead. I'd lost 60 pounds just from not drinking. I am a whole different person now.

Kobi enjoyed life at the shelter. There was always someone to talk to. He sang his made up songs in the shower. My parents had given his father everything. Clothing, toys, his bed. We were starting at the very bottom.

Some months passed. I worked very hard at my job at a convenience store. Eventually, after a year on the waiting list, we were offered a subsidized low income apartment. I was so happy. I made it happen. I did it with no family. I did it without a man. There were times I wanted to give up. But I didn't. I MADE IT.

We've been in the apartment for 2 years now. Our first Christmas together in the apartment was difficult. I only had 50 dollars to spend on him. He didn't care. He was just so happy. I still had no car, and couldn't afford one. We walked everywhere. Kobi called our walking times 'adventures'. He was so happy just to be with me. Walking was fun for us.

Still to this day, sometimes he'll be in the middle of playing or whatever and he'll stop and say thank you for this apartment. He's amazingly humble and grateful just to be here with me. I think if we lived in a box he'd still be happy.

I did it. We made it. I'm still in shock sometimes. Now we have a car (someone graciously donated it to us.) It's not a nice car but we don't care. Kobi sings his songs in the car when we run errands. He needs that. He needs to sing. He needs me.

My parents still don't have anything to do with me. I let Kobi visit them, because it's the right thing to do. I miss my father fiercely. Sometimes I have a good cry and it helps me to feel better. Then I pick myself up, and I carry on. The earth keeps spinning. Kobi is 12 now and he is amazing.

Sometimes you have to fall before you learn how to fly.

children
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About the Creator

Katie Carter

I am just a 35 year old with no filter. I'm trying to be the best single mom I can be. I'm not perfect, but who is? My sense of humor and writing are my saving graces.

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