I feel awful because I couldn’t sleep again last night. I also dropped a little bottle of wkd on my swollen toe last night. I can feel the bruise coming up. That is now going to take longer to heal due to bruising on top of whatever kicked my toe off originally. I can never be functioning properly at this time of year, my son’s birthday is in 2 days. I do feel sad because he is 10 now and I haven’t been allowed to see him since 14 months old just before adoption went through. I see all the years he hasn’t been in my life as living a lie. I don’t live, just exist. The cats are like children but it isn’t the same. I see every day as something I have to endure not enjoy. This was never meant to be my life. Jonny was meant to stay with me. The adoption happened due to circumstances beyond my control. Everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong at that time. I fought it and deserved to keep my son. I worked so hard day and night to try to keep him. I was pushed to fail by a system that doesn’t help disabled parents because there is no profit in doing so. There is a rolling cash flow if a child is placed for adoption, for the system and adopters. I was never part of that equation despite being initially being proposed two letterbox contacts per year but that was taken away after I fought the adoption plan. I had my baby cruelly snatched away into a system that saw me as the equivalent to a character in the handmaiden’s tale. I was lied to and strung along bring told to do whatever they required when they were putting my son for adoption anyway. Then when they had taken him away… I was cast aside and finally abandoned by the system when my support service weren’t helpful and I told them so which resulted in me not getting any funded support from the county council for nearly 7 years now.