I went to court on Monday....In order to keep Ezra where he is now, I had to plead guilty to neglect, which was a ludicrous charge to begin with. Where I'm living at now isn't child-friendly or safe. What they failed to realize is that I had nowhere else to live. My mom didn't want me in the house. We weren't getting along and it was time for me to go.

This situation came to be because one of his therapists said that I was starving my son. BULL****! The boy was EXTREMELY finicky when it came to food. There were some nights where he'd go to bed hungry because he flat out refused to eat. I couldn't force-feed him; that would've been an unwise thing for me to do. I would sit with him for nearly 30 minutes trying to feed him. Taking care of him took a psychological toll on me.

For someone looking in, I was indifferent towards my son. I didn't seem to care about him. But that wasn't the case. His autism progressed to the point where I could not even leave him in another room to play by himself. He would go up and down the stairs constantly for 30 minutes or more. He slammed doors constantly and nearly broke my cable box!


In the 2 months he's been in foster care, his demeanor and attitude has changed. He doesn't play with the doors as much and he doesn't throw temper tantrums and act out. He's doing well and I'm proud of the decision that I made. His condition made it impossible for me to keep a sane mind. I nearly went crazy trying to deal with him. He turns 3 on June 27th. Three long years. Finally, the storm has passed. My mind is clear for the first time. My mind is my own now. I won't let it go to waste.