A lot of people may think that I was to calm at Brad’s funeral. I wasn’t calm, I was drugged to the teeth. Brad’s death hit me so bad. My doctor called me at home after I had called his office to cancel my appointment with him because my son had died. About 10 minutes later he called me at home. He upped my dosage a little. The morning of his funeral, I looked like I had dressed in dark clothes from the Wal-Mart warehouse. I had to go and get some black clothes and I didn’t care where they came from. I don’t even remember where they came from. I had gained a lot of weight back when I first started taking the medicine. I didn’t care what I looked like as my mind was not on the clothes I wore. I couldn’t hold myself together. I doubled the amount the Dr. had told me to take so I could get in the car to go his funeral. I was scared to go into the viewing room. I couldn’t believe that my only son was dead. I fell apart. A friend gave me a 1 mg Xanax and that with the double does. That stopped me from crying. That was what I was doing being so calm.
I had always tried to protect Brad from the sorrows. When my husband had adopted Brad and changed his last name. When that marriage fell apart my ex-husband tried to un-adopt him. After the judge ( the same one that granted the adoption) called him a monster. We proceeded to mitigation of our divorce. I told my ex that if he would just treat Brad like his daughter from a broken marriage, to take Brad for the weekend instead of abandoning him, I would not accept any child support from him. He looked at me and told me that he didn’t want to see Brad and I wasn’t going to get a dime from him. Since I couldn’t appeal to his heart, I was going to hit him where it would hurt. I went after his wallet. He was so surprised to find out that he HAD to pay child support. When it was over, I told him that if he ever was late, I would have him arrested. He abandoned Brad. Brad was so hurt. He said he thought that my ex was going to be his Daddy forever. I told him I thought so too.
Now as I look back and think about all my actions while raising him, I am punishing the person that hurt him the most. Me.