New moon insomnia

Of all the Struggles and Strife
All my blunders in this life
Only one true question remains
What lessons did they contain?

Number One is sad but true
Trusting blood without a reason to
Was engrained in the psyche early.
I wish I'd been clued into the unworthy

Body language is a huge factor
When addressing relationships, even actors.
I've always known my differences were intense
After all training to mask, I still provide no pretense.

Mother, wife, old soul and uniquely odd
Author, Artist, ADHD and Autistic... Applaud!
And more, complex PTSD, and the regular too.
Adorn my depression, pack on anxiety... It's a slew!

Reasons abound, I have excuses to surrender
Allow my daughter's abusive father to have her
Put up no fight as advocating is hardly ever heard
And their scrutiny is on me, undeserved.

My demeanor...nuances are different. Not the norm
I have no social observations within which to conform
I tell it how it is, pretty sure my lie button is broken
With identic memory to all words written or spoken.

So my intro to the prospect of Spectrum...
Was fate entwined with a heart happy conundrum
Hired to create a spectrum resource database for all
Hundreds of signs, Specifically letting my mask fall.

Emotion thesaurus to Write body language
Creativity and artistic abilities, all without tutelage
Pick up my pen then a book draft is outlined
Watch Bob Ross, succeed on replica. It's my mind.

The unusual ways in which it compensates for me
Yet not how a body will act to accompany speech
I take people at their word and correct grammar
I interrupt, I dont know my turn and I'll stammer

My high anxiety and constant fear of failure
Insist that I overcompensate and work later
My goal in all endeavors is to help people
Whether through info, introspection, listening or easel

I understand abuse in relationships plenty
For decades I was a target. They still resent me.
And my inability to recognize it cohesively
Allowed the abuse to cement itself effortlessly.

years of maltreatment as a child and a teen
Compounded a feeling I didnt know to sever clean
I asked my parents while I learned to keep him safe
They legally kidnapped him and claimed I'm a waste

Gave me an ultimatem, my son or happiness in my future
I chose my son as would any mother... and a decade of torture
Ten years without my other half on top of more abuse
Saddness without my son. I repeated "Whats the use?"

Through art I showed my pain and grief unending
Because they had control via my son. Not surrendering
Hindsight is 20/20 and Its over. done, No more.
Blood means nothing to me, love makes family .