I'll be honest once more, as a person that was adopted. That means for some reason I was unwanted. I wish I was aborted. I have depression and contemplate suicide all the time. It sucks to be poor. Struggling between food, shelter and trying to make the best decisions for my kiddos. Worry about their mental health and well being and try to keep them out of trouble. Below is a picture of my mother and her sister and her husband. They surprised us with a visit. I definitely remember arguing with my mom when they came knocking at the door. I loved that skirt and mad I have no idea how I lost track of it.
I ran away between the time these two pictures where taken and had my first kiddo. Picture taken at my baby daddy family's home in SE DC.
Running away from home wasn't easy to do. It wasn't just because we weren't getting along but it was because something wasn't right. My mom was controlling and somethings just didn't add up. Below is the picture taken towards the first step to getting my mother the help she needed. The doctor that was with me since I was around 17 and delivered my
babies well she left providence hospital to practice at Unity. When she left they didn't allow her to tell her patients. So I was very happy to run into her at a fast food place. She happened to be practicing at a section of DC General Hospital that wasn't the shelter. And that is where this picture was taken. She had a favorite grandchild and I use that child to convince my very hesitant mother to leave the house for a "therapy" session with his doctor to give permission to take my youngest out the country to raise him. So yes she was mad at me when she realized it was a physical appointment because I needed a referral to see an actual psychiatrist. It was also a miracle I got this appointment. It was close to Halloween time and the person that made the appointment said folks sometimes cancel their appointments around this time. Or something to that extent. I had a work thing I couldn't get out of so my mom was on her own to see the psychiatrist. She loved the guy and continued to make monthly appointments with him.
There is so much more to talk about about how I figure out my mother's mental illness but I don't want to put it in this blog. So stay tune for more.
I made a video explaining the break down of why I put my mother through probate court.
Here is the second video further explaining my mother's situation.
So why should you care about the world of the probate court, conservatorships and guardianships? If we are lucky to live old and keep our marbles the entire time and have a good nest egg and have love ones that will take care of you til the end. Then nothing to worry about while living in America. But there are plenty of what ifs. And whether you are a white, multimillionaire pop star in your 30s or a elderly black woman with just a DC home. Folks that become the ward of the state in up mistreated because the court system isn't being held accountable for their actions and to have only one or two people in charge of a person's money and health is a set up for abuse.
I know some folks will come up with excuse after excuse of why one population should be treated different than the other. And mental illness and money and family issues is complicated and motive driven. But the courts interests is just as alarmingly powerful and self motivating along with the tight network of probate lawyers that will excuse each others their actions.
All I know through my own perspective. I have been to hell experiencing seeing your loved one going through so much and never given all the information. When people with control purposely disrespect you and your mom and her items and legacy and her wishes. When someone you love is taken from you and you can't keep them close. When the person you love misses you and you miss them but everyone wants to say this is in her best interest. She adopted me because she wanted a family. I was her only family and her biological family didn't want to be bothered by me.
Another reason why I protest is for my kiddos. They are adults now and the aren't political. Not like me and especially not locally. They are still figuring out the world and since I never got my own life straight it is an interesting ways and means to figure out together. We are still on survival mode. I started writing this blog because I was tired of explaining myself and my reasons why. I grew up here and my kids as well. They might not be mad but I am. I am mad like hell that DC has changed throughout their childhood into a city that wasn't meant for them. We aren't middle class and just as they have struggled with their own race identity. They aren't considered black enough for racial equity. So just as my asian butt isn't ever considered in the conversation nor are they. I am so tired. I am so tired of protesting by myself. I am so tired repeating myself and my ideas. I am so tired asking for help. I am so tired of demanding more for black poor people from middle class black people that ask for bare minimum is enough because that fulfills their job description in terms of racial equity but not economically. They need to try harder in school. parents and adults don't deserve more because they aren't actually homeless, returning citizens, drug addicts or whatever fits their grant money criteria. Welfare mommas was draining the system and they don't deserve more. And if we start working our food benefits is cut and my middle schools steal food from the corner store because their school lunches are small and sometimes just questionable in quality. So I wonder how crime has gotten worst since the pandemic? Because nothing changes and expectations are the same and we can't think more boldly to make sure no one is struggling. I protest to hold our democratic lead government to do more. Because all the other advocacy orgs can't or don't see the point. And since my struggle just continues to become all consuming I really have no other choice.
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