When I started out many years ago, I had so many plans and dreams. I wanted to be a musician. I began at the university, but then discovered that I had a chronic illness and was unable to continue. I chose another course, and that choice has created so many difficulties for many.
I guess I'm just sad today as it's finally hit me that my son may actually go to prison after his last arrest. I have cried so much today, thinking about what that will mean. My mother is ninety. The chances of his getting out before she passes are slim. I know I shouldn't project trouble like this, but there have been so many times during the past twenty years that I thought: "things can't get any worse than this," and with the intelligence of the judges involved in our divorce and child custody cases, our situation would always worsen. This led to my children all being suicidal, and one turning to drugs to drown his sorrows and fears. We've been in prison; the perpetrator - our jailer - remains free, actually judging us. We never live up to his high standards. Nobody does.
I just want peace, but, unfortunately, I have to live with the residual of his abuse. He is like a tornado or a hurricane, leaving destruction in his path. And I am the rescue worker, left to pick up the pieces of chldren as best I could.
I still have plans, but now I know that I can only do so much. Life can change what we want to do and who we started out to be. And for some, it can nearly destroy their lives. I don't think my son has ever had any illusions of tomorrow. He's never lived beyond the moment. Always feeling insecure (you don't have any friends) and inferior. How does a child like him grow into a man?
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