I know that I appear incredibly friendly. I am like everyone's younger sister, older sister, best friend, therapist... whatever. The truth is that I am incredibly antisocial. Since I AM antisocial, when things go wrong, I immediately flip myself inside out so that the only person who can see my problem, hear my problem, or deal with my problem is me. By internalizing, I can keep the panic, upset, and anger at a minimum. I find myself in one of those moods again.
I have been dreading this moment for about 6 months. 6 months is the length of time that my daughter had to be in this state for her to be a resident. 6 months is how long I have had to wait to file for custody. We've reached the close. In a few days, she will have been here for 6 months. It is time for me to saddle up and ride the custody pony. Except, in my mind, it's not a pony at all. It's like the biggest, blackest, meanest wild mustang around and that's the one that coach fingered for me.
I absolutely believe that I am doing the right thing. She needs to be here with me and my Fiance. Not just because I am her mother. I don't believe that having a uterus and breasts automatically makes a mother the best parent for her child. She needs the stability that is provided for her here. Sure, she has it there but it is not provided by her father. Instead, it is provided by ailing grandparents. Cancer is a terrible thing and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. The fact is, both grandparents have it. He Who Must Not Be Named has it as well, though it is just a small area of skin cancer. She needs to be here where she has her own room to retreat to and not one that is shared with 3 (soon to be 4, excluding her) other people.
She needs to be here where she isn't stuck at a daycare center all day. She needs to be here, where financially, she is able to be in dance classes, go to the amusement parks with friends. She needs to be here where she is the sole priority.
Even knowing that, evening knowing that my intention is good, I am scared. I was with him for 4 years. I know the kind of venom he is capable of spewing during a court case for custody. I know how manipulative he is. He makes everyone believe that he is just a good ol country boy, trying to make good. I am petrified that this will be just another hearing where he has the mediator eating out of his hand and a judge indignant on his behalf. I'm scared of losing my daughter.
He Who Must Not Be Named doesn't live a few towns over. He lives in a completely different state. Somebody is going to get just a few weeks a year. Somebody is going to miss her first day of school, her dance recitals, tball practice, doctors appointments, scraped knees, nightmares. Somebody is going to miss much of her life. When she turns 18, one of us, with our few weeks a year, will have seen her for less than a year out of 13 years of life. Selfishly, I don't want it to be me. I don't want to miss her growing up.