Dear Morgue,
You sent me a text asking to remind you why you are such a badass, and I couldn’t just send a text back. I had to do one better.
You struggled for years wrongly dismissed and diagnosed trying to do everything you were fed to “get better” (aka “normal”). You were given all the wrong medications and therapies and had a near death because of one of those medications and you still persisted on getting better.
You have a beautiful-albeit emotionally draining for you-daughter that you have fought tooth and nail to provide for. You have given up so much for yourself to see that Spook has food and clothes and a roof over y’all’s head-despite the slumlord taking advantage of everyone in the park.
You went to court and fought to get what she deserves despite your severe anxiety of the donor (aka Albatross) and his constant web of lies.
You were dealt a shit mental health hand in life, along with a shit family. You selflessly created a GoFundMe and gathered funds for the momster and her merry band of idjits when there was a fire in their home-even donating when you don’t have the extra money to spare. Your family used your mental health against you because you are stronger then they are by making sure Spook has what she needs first not what she wants, by making sure your bills are paid, food on the table and gas in the shitty car you were cornered into getting.
You have constantly and consistently shown others how hard it is for you as a single parent-with multiple mental health disorders/illnesses!-with no real support financially or from family, who does not all for help unless absolutely necessary.
I am so amazed and impressed at how you fight every damn day to not fall completely down the rabbit hole, to recognize the days the rabbit hole is inevitable, and to still fight enough to give Spook what she needs.
We have had rides down the streets with Camelaffes and I.V. drips of our favorite booze, smacked people in the face with fish and shoved barbed wire dildos with ghost pepper sauce lube in unmentionable places. We have dined on orgasmic chocolate hand rolled on the legs on lesbians while huddling in Fort Blankie coloring, listening to Wednesday, and seeing if we can really commit the perfect crime from Investigation Discovery. Clown shoes.
You, my dear friend, are a Badass.
Lurve- Your Friendly Neighborhood Sass
Ps-If you can’t find a place there, you can always move here where you’ll have support in so many ways 💖💖
New Home Here!
