Archive for March, 2015

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“You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.” – Abraham Lincoln

I went for a walk this morning and on meeting an acquaintance, stopped to chat. Imagine my displeasure at being asked the question, ‘Why did you decide not to see your child any more?’

It would appear that Jack’s ‘mother’ (sarah louise tobert) has been telling people that I have chosen not to see my son. This is a slightly different story to the last one. The last being that she had stopped me seeing him because I had relapsed on alcohol.

At first, I was fucking furious…

And I had a minor RANT.

Having sat by the river at Richmond for a while though and upon discussing it with a friend, I realised the following…

You cannot trust a liar.

People lie to you because they do not wish to look bad in your eyes. I do not lie because I do not care what others think of me. My son being the exception. I wish to make it very clear that I never chose not to see my child. I didn’t fight for four and a half years in court to see Jack only to abandon him later.

However, I’m not holding on to it. It is not her fault the her psychological make-up leaves her with an inability to tell the truth.That and the hitting and screaming abuse is why I left her…

It must be really hard, pretending to be buddhist, when every time you chant, you are forced to listen to your conscience calling out ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire’…

I love my son in a way I have never experienced before and I don’t want him to believe I would ever say I didn’t wish to see him.

She is a different matter, when she stopped me seeing him I kept asking to see him and when she refused and threatened to report me to the police for harassment, I told her ‘Never speak to me again’ and changed my phone number…

I do not believe in giving bad attention to little children.

I had already warned Jack that it was inevitable that she would stop me seeing him again, because it is in her nature to hate what she cannot control…

The rest is history….

my child asked me about my parents.. I apologised. you would not have enjoyed them.

In the run up to mothers day, as a child who was adopted by a women (sic) who used to make me bang my head on the coal-bunker.. the denial of motherly affection and the presence of pre-frontal lobe damage….

Why me?

I gave up god long after you first held me under boiling water.
Long after the dog-chain and the cupboard under the stairs.
I gave up god when you were eaten alive by cancer.
And you were the only mother I’d known.
And I couldn’t help loving you

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