Do wits really have an end?

You have no idea how much I miss blogging. I am getting an idea how much you miss my blogging, and I must say I am extremely appreciative of those checking in to see if me and Pearlsky are okay. Seeing that “okay” is relative, I am not sure how to respond.

Sure, we’re okay. Yeah, there’s an answer. Yep, just fine.

The second week of this past July Pearlsky came home from school (summer program in the high school) with her undergarment on backwards, her eye swollen shut, I was told she “shut down” at the end of the day, not interacting with people. I was told no one touched her clothes other than to change her, no one knew why her eye was swollen nor why she was acting differently. Nor did anyone know why there was a spot of blood where it should not have been. Her appetite crashed over the next month or two and the 88 pound Pearlsky lost about 10% of her body weight. Weeks later, at a doctor’s appointment, when I was asked what happened that day, Pearlsky burst into tears as I just started to mention it. Yep, no communication that one.

The state investigated. The city investigated. I was asked insane questions (never accused or anything like that). The case went to the state attorney general and other places. Then silence.

Weeks went by, no one would tell me if there was to be a criminal investigation or not (I did NOT want one, that’s another post). No updates. Every time the phone rang, or the doorbell rang, I would jump.

The state agency calls and wants to do a home visit, out of the blue. When they called, they were kind of sketchy about it. That was an uncomfortable few days, turned out to be some other dumb issue, not a problem.

I had trouble dealing for a few months. I failed Pearlsky, there is no doubt something not good happened. I put her on the school bus that day. Don’t go all logical on me … I failed to protect my daughter.

And the last thing I wanted to do was come here, this blog, and either admit that, or tell you about the day to day shit that goes on.

“Do you feel she is safe in school now?”

“I felt she was safe the day I sent her in and in reality, she was not safe. I sent her in today. If I say I don’t think she is safe, that means I knowingly put her in an unsafe situation and you take her away. How about, I feel she is as safe today as she was that day. Safe is safe, no?”

Fuck you.

The day she cried at the doctor’s was horrendous. Right then and there, I knew she knew. She knew what happened, she remembered it. I had barely said anything and her mind went there.

The evening of that doctor’s appointment I was on the floor crying and I got a call from the incredible Clotho. I told her that I knew Pearlsky knew. That I had failed her and had no idea what to do. Then she showed her power, and gave me a rash of shit. She stood up to me, and demanded that I “go talk to Pearlsky. You go to her right now. It is erev Yom Kippur and damn it, you go talk to her. Apologize, explain, whatever. Go talk to your daughter.”

No one dares speak to Single Dad like that. Actually, no one does. But Clotho did.

I took Pearlsky and spoke to her. Straight. For a while. And I made promises to her. And she rolled into me and we laid there. For a while. A long while.

As promised, I have gone to the school every day to check in on her. And other stuff. But is still sucked, still no word from the state, from the city, from the investigators, it was still “active.”

I was almost up to posting again, starting to be myself, then last week happened.

Because Pearlsky was, well, mishandled, at the High School, I have been trying to get her the hell out of there ASAP and directly into an adult program (which normally starts at 22, 10 months from now). The program I want says they want the state to guarantee that they will continue paying for her placement there when she turns 22 (when the school district stops paying) or she cannot come. Note they do not insist that elders live more than 10 months after starting, etc. but I digress. The state says to the program (run by a large national syndication) “we can’t guarantee anything.” Hence, I find out Pearlsky is stuck in a place where she is not safe, and a fantastic placement won’t take her because they need a guarantee that makes no sense (keep reading).

So I search and find a lawyer. Took about an hour. He is the ex-president of said program syndicate (google it and HIS picture comes up) and he is the ex Deputy Commissioner of the state program. Two …. two … two mints in one!

“The state cannot guarantee that simply because they are never the ones to pay. She has SSI and Medicare, so that is completely moot. No, I don’t think you need to hire me, SD, let me make a phone call, I know people.” No word yet.

The same night I found the lawyer I am watching the local news. Hey look, that’s the high school they are filming in front of. Wonder what happened. Oh, male special education aide arrested. Hmmm. Stole a bagel from the cafeteria? Parked his car in a no parking zone? No, aggravated statutory rape. But it’s ok, he did not do it on school grounds. And NO, I don’t know if he had anything to do with anything, so don’t ask.

And you know what happened the next day? I get the official report from the state investigation. Five months later. And it says they do not recommend a criminal investigation (again, that is actually good from my and Pearlsky’s point of view; fuck the “greater good”). But here’s the kicker, there is a summary of what I said to the investigators, what Pearlsky’s mom said, the teachers, the SPED Coordinator, etc. And then this … the school lied about the environment. A major point in the investigation. Who was with Pearlsky at all times. And what do I do with this? Nothing. I absolutely can prove beyond a doubt it is a lie, but to what end? I don’t want the outcome of the investigation to change. The person interviewed knows for a fact that s/he lied. All it does is reinforce the fact that I want her out of there. Today. Now.

So that stopped me, yet again, from posting. From sleeping. From breathing.

But here I am. Lots of email support from my readers. I know life must go on, I know this was not my fault, but I cannot begin to tell you what it took out of me.

I want an RV. I want it to have a ramp or a lift. I want to get in it and never turn back. Me and Pearlsky. We’ll visit you, or pick you up, on the way. Think I can drive to London? Maybe IN, TX, and CA will work …

I hope I am back. I need to be for me.

But that is what has been going on for the last five months. And I missed you.


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