Rock-Bottom Redemption

This is for all the young girls who feel as if there is no way out. You’ve hit rock bottom and you feel like you keep getting pushed farther down. You feel as if you can’t breathe with all then overwhelming stress and anxiety. Let me give you a little bit of advice. Never go back. I was with the father of my son for 7 years. Dated ever since I was 15 and I am currently 22. Everything was good for about a year or two until I started seeing the repetitive signs of cheating and manipulation. For me, however, there was no way out. Or so I had thought. My mother had recently moved to Texas and I had no other family that wanted me around. I was stuck with the decision between staying or becoming homeless. So I stayed. Summer of 2019 I became pregnant. It wasn’t planned but not one bit regretted. The mental and emotional abuse started right after I gave birth to a beautiful 8lb 9oz baby boy, Mason. Everyone knows what it’s like when you have a baby. You don’t feel secure in your new “Mom Bod”. You feel disgusting. You feel like a kangaroo with a pouch just hanging around. I wouldn’t give it up. I wouldn’t get close because he never once made me feel secure or pretty. So here comes the cheating. I knew about it. I let it happen for the simple fact that, he told me, “I have to get it from someone because you’re not giving it to me”. In my head after being with him for 4 years I thought he was right. It’s my fault so I shouldn’t be mad. Mason is about a year and a half at this point. I leave. I get a restraining order and emergency custody order put into place and I’m gone. He still seen his child on the days he was court ordered. Everything was running smooth. Well, January of 2020, my life shattered in the blink of an eye. My father had passed away. We had a rocky relationship so it hit me harder than it hit anybody else. I was in a weak spot. I didn’t know what I needed. You know how people try to weasel their way in knowing that you will be easily manipulated? Well that’s what happened. My sons father was there when my dad died and I needed somebody. So we tried to “Fix our family”. When I tell you that you can’t fix what’s already broken, take those words and use them wisely. Not only from that moment on did he mentally and emotionally abuse me, he physically abused me. There’s more to come, but before I finish, I want to know how many are interested in hearing how I got put into those shiny little bracelets they call handcuffs. Stay tuned.