Life was a bit too scary then in the fall of 2004. Brittany's statements to DHS were in early September and I did not find out until mid October. I am puzzled still as to the events. My first instinct was that this was all due to my being gay. She would not have chosen that horrific thing to say, had I been straight. But, to this day, I still believe that she didn't choose it on her own. Maybe it was not intentional, maybe it was...I do not know. I just know Brittany and I know how easily she is led into a conversation...it's part of her disorder, it's why she never understood that she was really lying, she believes it's the truth. I've thought of this scenario ad nauseum in my head....all the foster mom, or anyone would have to say is, "Did something happen with your mom?" Or "Did she hurt you?" But I feel that the foster mom does not approve of my being gay and it has crossed over to Brittany.
My conversation with the DHS director was maddening, to say the least. She asked me what happened, so I told her about the behavior. She didn't believe I did anything and didn't even know IF I was under investigation or not. How could she not know? It seems everything was a mess because Brittany lived in a different county than where this allegedly took place. And in the Cheyenne office, there was a new supervisor/director. The Rock Springs/Green River office couldn't handle it because it was out of their jurisdiction. So she suggested calling the Cheyenne office since they were handling it. I called there almost every day, leaving several messages. Finally, after a few days, I get a return phone call. They don't know who I am or anything about the case. They suggested calling the Cheyenne Police Department to see if a report was filed. Now, wouldn't you think if a report was filed, they would have been knocking down my door? The first detective I talked to knew nothing about anything and referred me to someone else. The case ended up being passed around to 3 different detectives. In mid Novemeber, almost 3 months since this whole thing began, I finally talk to the last detective and he was decent enough to ask me to come down to the station to fill him in because he'd just been handed the case and knew nothing about it. I told him I would be happy to. No one even wanted to talk to me...it was frustrating that I was the one who had to make all these phone calls and push someone to tell me anything. I mean...what if I really had done something? It makes me fear for the children caught in all the red tape of bureaucracy.
Once down at the station, talking to the detective, who was very decent and honest, I decided it was only fair that I tell him everything. I told him Brittany's complete history up to then and where I believe this came from...and yes, I told him I was gay. He was very respectful and understood my concerns and felt I was on the right track after what I told him. He said that he was fairly certain that the case would be dropped, as there was no evidence.
I was leaving for Iowa to visit my grandmother, whose health was failing, both of them, actually. My grandmother(the one I lived with early on) needed someone to be with her. I really grappled with so many things. This whole ordeal bothered me beyond all comprehension. It was just one more thing. I felt betrayed, after everything I've gone through with her and I knew another tough choice was on the horizon.
After my visit with my grandmother, I decided that now was the time to make a move back to Iowa to live with my grandmother. I had decided that if I backed out of Brittany's life, at least for now, she couldn't use me as a weapon. I have felt like I've given her up over and over again...it's that open wound that just keeps getting punctured again and again. For some reason, it's how it's supposed to be. I believe that.
I chose not to contact Brittany and I didn't for the longest time. I wrote her and told her I was moving and I would write her. It was difficult not mentioning anything about the events of the past summer, but I didn't. One of my best friends told me, "Julie, no one would blame you if you just cut those strings. You have been through hell with this kid...you just kept hanging on even when she beats you down. It's okay, you don't have to be the hero."
So I moved back to Iowa and didn't hear from Brittany for the longest time. I contacted the DHS director and told her all that went on. She didn't realize all that had happened and told me it should not have happened that way at all. Gee, really? I told her I was not contacting Brittany on my own, in order to give her space. She agreed that for now, it was a good idea. A couple months later, Brittany called me and we talked and God, how it tugged at me. But things got a little better, I think.
In the interim of moving from Wyoming to Iowa, I met Cindy online....and so another chapter of my life. I was still living with my grandmother(another dramatic story). In May of 2005, I was going to drive out to Wyoming to visit friends and Brittany. Cindy was going to go with me. A couple days before I left, Brittany called me in hysterics at work. She and her foster mom were having a knock down drag out fight. I talked to the foster mom, also. She told me that Brittany became enraged and began hitting her, "assaulting" her, as she put it. She still didn't believe all that was different about Brittany, after all these years. She said she was calling because Brittany was telling her that I was coming out there to take her home to Iowa to live with me. Here we go again. I explained to her that nothing of the sort was happening, nothing like that had ever been talked about. It had started over laundry. Something so simple. I suggested to the foster mom about getting Brittany re-evaluated. She said she did and whomever tested her, evaluated her, stated there was nothing wrong, though she might be a little slow. I think the person who tested her is slow. Brittany must be a modern miracle to go from mild retardation to just fine in a few years. I spent this phone call talking with Brittany, reassuring her that she's done so well living there and I knew how hard it was, and that it was hard on me, too....and sometimes, the hardest things turn out to be the best things we can do. Did that ever break my heart, hearing her cry for me to be with her. Still tears me up. I finally mentioned to her about last summer and what happened and that she cannot tell those stories. I told her how serious that was..how I could have been arrested, lost my job and lost everything. All she said was, "I know, I know."
So, I went to Wyoming and saw her. I generally do not visit her unless someone is with me. I feel like I never know what she will say, who she will say it to. I believe things are better now. I saw her in March for her 17th birthday and it was good, so good. I am concerned about her future because I feel she has been sort of brainwashed by these people in believing she is just like everyone else her age. Clearly, she's not. Not realizing these things could prove dangerous in the future, in the job place. She goes to counseling at school and says it helps her to talk. The guardianship ends when she's 18 but she won't graduate til she's 19...so we will see.
Like I've said, I know in my heart of hearts that this was the plan, in some grand scheme. I've chosen to believe there is a reason for the struggles, the heartbreak, the fighting to get someone to listen to me. It has been my path and it has been hers to carry on, wherever it leads her.
I know there will be more challenges ahead....after going through the past 17 years, I think I can make it through anything.
I hope!
My conversation with the DHS director was maddening, to say the least. She asked me what happened, so I told her about the behavior. She didn't believe I did anything and didn't even know IF I was under investigation or not. How could she not know? It seems everything was a mess because Brittany lived in a different county than where this allegedly took place. And in the Cheyenne office, there was a new supervisor/director. The Rock Springs/Green River office couldn't handle it because it was out of their jurisdiction. So she suggested calling the Cheyenne office since they were handling it. I called there almost every day, leaving several messages. Finally, after a few days, I get a return phone call. They don't know who I am or anything about the case. They suggested calling the Cheyenne Police Department to see if a report was filed. Now, wouldn't you think if a report was filed, they would have been knocking down my door? The first detective I talked to knew nothing about anything and referred me to someone else. The case ended up being passed around to 3 different detectives. In mid Novemeber, almost 3 months since this whole thing began, I finally talk to the last detective and he was decent enough to ask me to come down to the station to fill him in because he'd just been handed the case and knew nothing about it. I told him I would be happy to. No one even wanted to talk to me...it was frustrating that I was the one who had to make all these phone calls and push someone to tell me anything. I mean...what if I really had done something? It makes me fear for the children caught in all the red tape of bureaucracy.
Once down at the station, talking to the detective, who was very decent and honest, I decided it was only fair that I tell him everything. I told him Brittany's complete history up to then and where I believe this came from...and yes, I told him I was gay. He was very respectful and understood my concerns and felt I was on the right track after what I told him. He said that he was fairly certain that the case would be dropped, as there was no evidence.
I was leaving for Iowa to visit my grandmother, whose health was failing, both of them, actually. My grandmother(the one I lived with early on) needed someone to be with her. I really grappled with so many things. This whole ordeal bothered me beyond all comprehension. It was just one more thing. I felt betrayed, after everything I've gone through with her and I knew another tough choice was on the horizon.
After my visit with my grandmother, I decided that now was the time to make a move back to Iowa to live with my grandmother. I had decided that if I backed out of Brittany's life, at least for now, she couldn't use me as a weapon. I have felt like I've given her up over and over again...it's that open wound that just keeps getting punctured again and again. For some reason, it's how it's supposed to be. I believe that.
I chose not to contact Brittany and I didn't for the longest time. I wrote her and told her I was moving and I would write her. It was difficult not mentioning anything about the events of the past summer, but I didn't. One of my best friends told me, "Julie, no one would blame you if you just cut those strings. You have been through hell with this kid...you just kept hanging on even when she beats you down. It's okay, you don't have to be the hero."
So I moved back to Iowa and didn't hear from Brittany for the longest time. I contacted the DHS director and told her all that went on. She didn't realize all that had happened and told me it should not have happened that way at all. Gee, really? I told her I was not contacting Brittany on my own, in order to give her space. She agreed that for now, it was a good idea. A couple months later, Brittany called me and we talked and God, how it tugged at me. But things got a little better, I think.
In the interim of moving from Wyoming to Iowa, I met Cindy online....and so another chapter of my life. I was still living with my grandmother(another dramatic story). In May of 2005, I was going to drive out to Wyoming to visit friends and Brittany. Cindy was going to go with me. A couple days before I left, Brittany called me in hysterics at work. She and her foster mom were having a knock down drag out fight. I talked to the foster mom, also. She told me that Brittany became enraged and began hitting her, "assaulting" her, as she put it. She still didn't believe all that was different about Brittany, after all these years. She said she was calling because Brittany was telling her that I was coming out there to take her home to Iowa to live with me. Here we go again. I explained to her that nothing of the sort was happening, nothing like that had ever been talked about. It had started over laundry. Something so simple. I suggested to the foster mom about getting Brittany re-evaluated. She said she did and whomever tested her, evaluated her, stated there was nothing wrong, though she might be a little slow. I think the person who tested her is slow. Brittany must be a modern miracle to go from mild retardation to just fine in a few years. I spent this phone call talking with Brittany, reassuring her that she's done so well living there and I knew how hard it was, and that it was hard on me, too....and sometimes, the hardest things turn out to be the best things we can do. Did that ever break my heart, hearing her cry for me to be with her. Still tears me up. I finally mentioned to her about last summer and what happened and that she cannot tell those stories. I told her how serious that was..how I could have been arrested, lost my job and lost everything. All she said was, "I know, I know."
So, I went to Wyoming and saw her. I generally do not visit her unless someone is with me. I feel like I never know what she will say, who she will say it to. I believe things are better now. I saw her in March for her 17th birthday and it was good, so good. I am concerned about her future because I feel she has been sort of brainwashed by these people in believing she is just like everyone else her age. Clearly, she's not. Not realizing these things could prove dangerous in the future, in the job place. She goes to counseling at school and says it helps her to talk. The guardianship ends when she's 18 but she won't graduate til she's 19...so we will see.
Like I've said, I know in my heart of hearts that this was the plan, in some grand scheme. I've chosen to believe there is a reason for the struggles, the heartbreak, the fighting to get someone to listen to me. It has been my path and it has been hers to carry on, wherever it leads her.
I know there will be more challenges ahead....after going through the past 17 years, I think I can make it through anything.
I hope!
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