Yesterday was the pre-trial hearing and the judge has said he won’t be ruling in favor of my petition to relocate.
To write that this is devastating is an understatement. I’m still processing my grief. I couldn’t even offer my daughter comfort as I had to turn her over to my ex a couple of hours after I heard the news. She’s crushed, too.
So this is where I am: broke, homeless, separated by 1,000 miles from my husband and seven-year-old son, and trapped in Illinois for another four years.
I’m going to withdraw my petition to relocate. There’s no reason to go through the expense of a trial now. Next I face my ex’s petition for more parenting time, as well as his petition to throw me in jail for losing the house. The absolute worse outcome sees me in jail and having lost my daughter in a year’s time. So, you know, good times.
While I await for those load of bricks to fall I have to find housing for me and my daughter. Since the judge could limit me to staying within twenty-five miles of my ex, I am really limited in where we can settle. I’ve already started the process of signing up for food stamps. I looked into Section 8 Housing and found that the wait list to get on the wait list has closed.
I also have to finish up pictures for the book. I’m halfway through and should be finishing them up in a week or so. Getting those turned in will trigger the release of the rest of my advance which will be used immediately for my legal fees.
I have also started the process of reporting my ex for his predation of an underaged girl. It might have happened eighteen years ago and isn’t an issue as per my ex’s lawyer, but that is the sort of thing that doesn’t happen just once. There has got to be someone out there who will take it seriously and look to see if he has harmed any other girls in the intervening years.
I am not okay. I am upset and gutted by all of this. My anxiety has been high and I’ve had to dole out my medication in dribs and drabs because when it runs out I’m done. My depression has raised its oozing arms to drag me back into a world of remonstrances and accusations of worthlessness. None of this is fair. None of this easy. None of this is going to be okay for a very long time.