6 hours at the ER

Six hours. Give or take, that’s how long I was at the ER after being attacked. Could have been 48 hours or more, but luckily it was only six long, painstaking hours.

I had went into mine and my husband’s counselling session like any other. Cooperative, calm, tired.

My husband started talking about what had happened lately, losing his job, when our counselor stopped him to bring up that I had called her a week earlier. I had. One phone call explaining that I didn’t trust what my husband was telling people since he lied to my mom trying to get the baby taken from me because he was mad at me. I also brought up he was still being verbally and emotionally abusive and not following our crisis plan. My one phone call somehow turned into several in her eyes because her boss had called me to make sure no violence had occurred. I told her no, I just needed to inform the counselor of this discretely. She then starts getting onto me for not being on medication and comparing me to my husband who is on medication. Saying he’s trying and I’m not. All medications they tried me on had bad effects and we are currently waiting for test results to come back before being put on another. She knows this. She didn’t care. I was still wrong. She then brings up how I don’t come into counselling often. My husband has our only car, our appointments revolve around his schedule, and our son is currently sick. He goes every week or two, whereas I can only go every other week or more because I’m always with our son. Still my fault.

Okay, so I’m wrong for my body rejecting medications which means I’m not trying and for my schedule relying on my husband’s and my son’s health.

She then brings up a previous violent incident between my husband and I. He had cornered me, was screaming at me and getting in my face all bowed up and I felt threatened. I struck him which was wrong but was also in self defense because in the past he never lets me leave–he corners me and lays hands on me. He then punched yet another hole in the wall which got him kicked out at the time. She documented it wrong in the computer then argued with both my husband and I about it! Apparently because I slapped my husband in self defense she called DFCS on ME for being a danger to my child. My husband has stabbed holes in walls with swords, punched holes in walls, cornered me, hurts himself, and yet I’M the danger?

Even though my husband got up in the session and I felt cornered she didn’t get onto him. He was right to stand up and bow up. He was right to not follow our crisis plan. He was right to belittle me for not being on medication. I’m still functional off meds whereas he isn’t.

She accused me of lying to her when I haven’t. She was more afraid of my husband being kicked out than of me being afraid of my husband.

After having her and my husband verbally beat me down about how my husband was in the right, how I was dangerous, how I had no control, and how I wasn’t trying I felt suicidal. I voiced this. I know not to do anything because I have a son, but I had the negative thoughts. She doesn’t talk to me at all or listen to what I have to say. She calls her boss. Doesn’t let me calm down after she provoked this feeling. Just gives me the option of my husband taking me or the authorities to be hospitalized. They were closing so they were washing their hands clean of me. I agreed for my husband to take me as much as I hated him in that moment for feeding her lies to cause this whole situation.

Six hours. I sat there thinking of my son who was sick. My mother had him at the time and I sent my husband home to him since he was the “fit” parent. All I wanted was my son. I never realized how sick and twisted the song “You Are My Sunshine” is until I was in that hospital.

There was a pregnant couple next door whose one year old had ate some blood pressure pills because he wasn’t being watched and was overdosing. That’s the type of people who should have a DFCS case, not me.

Midnight I had just told my 4 month old good night and that I loved him over Skype when the crisis evaluator came.

I explained to her everything. My whole life story because she asked. Turns out my counsellor was doing several practices of borderline malpractice. Especially seeing both my husband and I individually and not just for couples therapy. What she did attacking me was also against code.

The woman looked at me and told me I was beautiful and smart and blessed with my baby boy. That I had just been hurt and used. That I was just stressed and needed to cut my husband out of my responsibilities. If he continued his actions to call the cops. She sent me home to my baby boy where I belonged.

My husband and mother left me home alone to watch him the next day. I was up off and on with him because he kept waking up because he’s sick. He wanted nothing more than his momma this morning when his daddy was watching him. If I was a danger to him, why would our DFCS rep trust me with him? Why would my psychiatric doctor who is in charge of my meds not put me on something instead of waiting?

I am strong. I have control. I’m safe with my son and he is safe with me.