I dislike this date.

I am awake because my ankle is quite painful again. I don’t like the 16th because of it being my sons birthday. This is just a constant reminder every year that I can’t be with him. I had more to drink than usual. I probably won’t understand a word of the notes I’ve written for typing up my TMA. I know that my ankle must be painful because I can still feel the pain after drinking a load of alcohol. It’s also swollen again so it didn’t like the excess movement today. It looks like I’m going to be resting it as much as possible for the next few days. I could have broken a bone somewhere in there for all I know. I’m sure that I would feel a lot more intense pain if that was the case. I’m not going to the hospital for an x ray until it’s refused to heal after a while. I don’t like hospitals especially with the virus still in circulation. I also don’t like going to the hospital unless absolutely necessary. The fact that my ankle keeps clicking doesn’t give me much hope that I will avoid a trip to the hospital. I can walk so it can’t be broken. I probably just used it too much before I was properly healed. I know that drinking is an unhealthy coping mechanism but sometimes you just have to blow out after life’s painful experiences.

I will be okay next month. April is just always going to crush me emotionally. I have hope that my son will find me when he’s old enough. However, I also fear that it will feel like meeting a stranger. I won’t even recognise him all grown up. That makes me sad. I tried to reach out to his adopters but it’s obvious that they aren’t decent people. They don’t respect me because I never even received a reply to my letter. I sent that letter over 4 years ago. Even if they didn’t fancy the idea of contact with birth family they could have acknowledged my letter and told me he was ok. I went through hell for them to get their much desired child. They get paid an adoption allowance much more than it would have cost for me to be supported so that he wasn’t adopted. I’m not posting a happy birthday message this year. I’m making a statement that the people who adopted my son are selfish, completely arrogant and think of me as nothing despite the fact that my son exists because of me. They wouldn’t have got a child if I hadn’t had mine legally snatched. I did nothing wrong but he born disabled into a world that discriminates against things they don’t understand. I never harmed him. I was pushed to say certain things because of children’s services harassment. I have to live with something I do not deserve for the rest of my life. I’ve had so many lies put on file about me to justify the discrimination I’ve suffered throughout my life. Lies that we’re probably told to my sons adopters because that is common practice to get an adoption granted.

7th Feb… 11 years have gone too quickly!

It’s the 11th anniversary of my Dads death. 7th Feb 2010. Ironically it was a Sunday back when it happened. I am just awake not really thinking about the date. I put my mind off of the anniversary by doing some well over due cleaning around flat. It smells so lovely in here now. The cats are inside tonight due to the weather being wet. I think that they know there is snow coming. That is the only time they don’t want to go out. I am half glad that I’m not where I was in life 11 years ago. I was in the residential home for autistic people. I moved out later that year to my own flat down south. That wasn’t so bad.

The last decade has been quite rough in general starting from having to move back to where I grew up, my sons adoption and everything I have experienced in between which wasn’t helpful to my mental well-being. I’m hoping that in a post covid world is more understanding when it comes to mental health, autism etc. I’m hoping the majority understand. I know that there will always be those who don’t understand. We have lost so many people to the virus and suicide. Change should happen in memory of all those lives. It wouldn’t feel right to just go back to life as it was previously. Many people won’t be able to return to the same reality as they had before the pandemic due to losing family and friends. Grief stings less over time but never truly disappears. It does get better, there’s no time limit, everyone experiences it differently.