Welp, Sh*t...

I feel like I failed because I have. 
I ran out of time. To do something. 
I put it on his father to do something. 
The cops couldn't do anything. 
The doctors couldn't and wouldn't do anything. 
And my son has to make his own choices. 

And I'm blown away that things got this bad
and I didn't know how bad they were getting. 
And yes, I feel responsible. For a lot. 

I feel like I'm the only one who understands what it's like. 
It's been pretty serious, 
but it's like I'm the only one taking it seriously. 
And people are just telling me:
"You're just depressed...."
Welp sh*t.... You would be, too. 
Anyone would be.... 

And I watch people live lives that are simpler
and they don't f*cking get this at all. 
What it's been like.... 

And I'd rather have things back to the way they used to be. 
Would you rather know or not know?

Not knowing means you can't do anything
and knowing... Often means you can try to do something.... 
But there's only so much you or anyone can do to help. 
And often it just makes it worse. 

This is one of the hardest times of my life!
I'm having a hard time coping with this. 
Feeling like I only added fuel to the fire... 
Feeling like I'm burning alive.... 

And people are telling me to go for a walk!
And read a book! Watch a movie!
Just STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!!!
LET IT PLAY OUT!!!

THEY DON'T KNOW....

"Living in fear is no way to live."

The counselling can only do so much. 
And they give me breathing exercises 
to 'cope' with anxiety....

It's like I'm biding my time before things get worse.... 
Or blow up in my face.... Or come back on me.... 
Or whatever.... 

Like "Look at mom trying to do something, 
she can't do sh*t."
But didn't I have to try?

And I can't just keep calling the distress line for support
because nobody f*cking understands 
what I'm going through. 

I tried an online support thing, and they didn't get it. 
"I'm sometimes scared for my life."
"Just start crocheting again."

It feels like this is MY fault. 
My son's father made his choices.... 
My son made his choice.... 
But it still feels like it's my fault. 

It's really weighing heavy on me. 
It's hard to think about anything else. 
Yes, I have to think about my health, too. 

Like my life has completely changed. 
Drinking isn't the answer, but it would numb me. 
It would probably take the edge off. 
I have to say that I am tempted.... 

Feeling so many things lately.
Grief stuff, guilt stuff, paranoid stuff... 
Fear stuff, sadness, depression, 
frustration because I need help. 
This is bigger than anything I've ever had before. 
It drains me, I feel weak and shaky. 
I don't feel like eating. Even less than I was before. 
My heart is taking a toll
because of the stress...

And it's being treated like it's no big deal. 
Like "Just get over it."

And I had to do something. 
Only to realize there wasn't much I could do. 
And my son knows what I did. 
And doesn't matter to him why I did it. 

And people talking about how they are such great parents. 
And how their kids love them. 
And how they have a relationship with their kids. 
And how their kids never got into doing stuff
or looking at stuff.... Or ever talked about it.... 
It's not good. All I can really say. 
I've gone into enough detail. 
That I wasn't even going to get into on here. 

And no sense of going over it again and again. 
But all these feelings keep coming up. 
And yes, I am depressed. 
Considering the situation, I'm really worn down. 

Thought about ending it a bunch of times. 
Because I don't see any way out of this. 
Because it already is what it is.
Being alone doesn't bother me anymore, but this does. 
This really bothers me, a lot. All of it. 
And knowing that there isn't anything I can do about it
because it's been out of my control. 
And I don't want it to get worse, 
but it has been getting worse
and I'm the only one speaking up about it. 
But it's like nobody wanted to get involved
or be involved and it's up to his dad to do something, too. 
But he can't see how bad it got. 
Because he's not listening to me
And my son's not telling him these things
or telling the doctors these things
and definitely wasn't telling the cops these things. 

I know he's angry because he's hurt. 
I hurt him by breaking his trust. 
It's not like a report was going to stop him
from potentially doing something
so was it necessary?

He's hurt and depressed that he hasn't had the life
he wanted to have. 

And he could have come to me about how he was feeling
and what he was having a hard time coping with
instead of bottling it all up. 

But I am seeing how hard it is to get help. 

And we tend to feel better when we have some control
over what is happening around us. 
I don't f*cking have any. 
I didn't have any. 
That's why I'm at where I'm at. 
Because I had no f*cking control
over anything that was going on. 

I got f*cked over so much. 
My son got f*cked over, too. 
And nobody did anything about it. 

Feeling f*cking POWERLESS. 
BECAUSE NOTHING IS WITHIN MY CONTROL. 
I CAN'T CHANGE MY SON'S MIND. 
I CAN'T EVEN TALK TO HIM ANYMORE. 
BECAUSE I MADE EVERYTHING WORSE. 
BECAUSE I REPORTED WHAT I KNEW. 
AND THEY TOLD HIM THAT I DID IT.
AND I HAD ASKED THEM TO TAKE HIM TO THE HOSPITAL. 

I was told yesterday to talk to my son's doctor, 
to tell him to give my son tests. 
That it is important to do, right away. 

I'm in a bind because they said they could make an appointment
for my son if he has a health card number. 
Because apparently his health card expired 2 years ago. 
I can't call his dad about it
because his dad isn't talking to me. 
My son isn't talking to me. 
They will probably get mad that I'm still trying to get my son help
because he doesn't want it. 

They want to be left alone, but it's important that he get these tests. 
Even if it's the last thing that I do for my son. 
To get him to get his health card
and to get these tests done. 

But I already made things worse by telling the cops
the things he was saying
because they went to him about it. 

And they were already not talking to me before I did that. 
And my son needs a health card to see a doctor. 
Which he probably won't voluntarily do when he turns 18. 

And I already know they want to be left alone. 
The first attempt to get him help backfired. 
Making the cops aware backfired. 

Someone told me to contact a lawyer. 
I don't know if that will backfire. 
Because I don't want to keep pissing them off. 
Because they are going to know it's me. 
Especially after that report. 
And I didn't think it through. 
That's why I have been looking for advice. 

I got some about a condition he might have
that he needs treatment for immediately. 
Unfortunately, he needs to update his health card. 

I've talked to counsellors, the crisis line... 
I've been told to contact his doctor. 
And that's pretty much all I can do right now
because he's in his father's custody. 
His father isn't taking action
and p*ssed off at me about the wellness check
and the report. 

I'm trying to contact a lawyer to get some legal advice
which I probably should have done
before filing the report. 

They are telling me that I've done all that I can do. 
They are saying that I can't force my son to get treatment, 
but this is pretty serious. 
It seems that nobody is taking me seriously. 

His father isn't taking any action. 
He has done nothing about what I told him. 
I told him months ago. 
I've been told that he's the only one who can do something. 
That because he lives with his dad
that I don't have the right to get my son help. 
And my son doesn't want help. 
Because he has an obsession. 
And I don't know how long it's been going on. 

All I know is that it's been getting worse. 
And people keep telling me that I've already done
all that I can do. 

I've reached out. I asked for help. 
I've asked for advice. 
I may have even taken the wrong advice.... 
I told his dad, I told the cops, his doctor knows now. 
I really hope his doctors keep it to themselves
that they heard it from me. 

Because he will stop going to see them if they tell him
that I talked to them about what's been going on. 
And the doctors told me that they can't tell me any info. 
But I had to insist that he sees his psychiatrist. 
And insist that he gets these tests. 
And even if he gets these tests, I won't know.
Because they don't have to tell the parents. 
ANY information. After a certain age. 

But I know my son wasn't telling the doctors these things. 
Because I asked him if he was and he said he wasn't. 
Because he knows these things are pretty serious. 
And wanted to hide it from everyone. 
He had even hidden it from me for a long time. 
And I wouldn't have known unless he told me. 
And now he won't tell me anything. 
He doesn't want anything to do with me now. 

I miss him, dearly. I love him dearly. 
I wish I could spend Christmas with him. 
I wish things were the way they were years before. 
I know that things can't go back to the way they used to be. 

1) Because things aren't the way they used to be
2) Things have changed, forever. 
3) My son won't ever trust me now.

I filed a police report and talked to his doctor. 
Since he was released from the hospital. 
And he probably denied telling me what he told me. 
And now he's angry. 
Been told that I've done all that I can do. 
Even the lawyer I talked to told me that. 

I understand why my son is angry at me. 
I told the cops, I told his doctor. 
I could have told them or done nothing. 

And I know that 
"I keep thinking about this... 
I want to do this....
I should do this...."
Is different from "I'm going to do this....."
But if he was going to, would he have told anyone?

Had I done nothing and said nothing... 
Could I live with myself?

It's hard to live with myself knowing
that my son will likely never speak to me again.
Or see me again. And I lost him. 

But could I live with myself if I had done and said nothing?

Yes, it's f*cking hard not seeing him, not talking to him. 
I miss him. I love him.
It's hard not knowing what he's thinking. 
It's hard not knowing if he's thinking about doing something. 
Would he tell anyone if he was? Probably not. 

And if he was and I hadn't spoken up about it?
And even though I did speak up about it...
It's not going to stop him if he wants to do something. 
Even then, I had said something. 
And supposedly did all that I can do.

And I sacrificed my relationship with my son. 
To speak up about it.

My only son. I love him so much!
I'm grieving the loss of our relationship. 
I'm sad things went the way they did between us. 
It was either say something and do something
or say and do nothing. 

And not only that, he resents me for speaking up about it. 
He never wanted me to. 
I had a really tough choice to make
and it took me too long to make that choice. 
It was like choosing him or choosing to speak up. 
Do you know how hard that is?

And speaking up about it put me in a tough spot, too. 
Because now he probably hates me for it. 
What would stop him from wanting to hurt me?
Over speaking up about it?
For exposing the secrets he was keeping?
And people might have gotten hurt if I kept quiet, 
but people might get hurt because I didn't. 
I might get hurt because I didn't. 

Again, could I live with myself had I not?
If I was the only one who knew the whole time?
But now I'm not the only one who knows... 
And he knows that now. 
Will that make him think twice?
Or is that anger he feels for me going to push him?

So I told who I could. 
And I wouldn't have had anything to tell
if he hadn't told me, 
but he only told me. 
Because he trusted me and I feel really f*cking sh*tty for that. 
That's a really f*cking hard choice I made.

But if I knew that people might get hurt, 
I'd still have to say something about it. 

And if it was only talk, it was only talk. 
And I hope that's all it was. 
And that might have played a role in why it took me so long.

If anyone other than my son told me, 
I wouldn't have believed them. 
That's why his dad's taking it very lightly.

And if I made a big deal about it, I made a big deal about it. 
And that is on me. Completely. 
But could I live with myself had I not said anything?

A lot of parents protect their kids. 
And in a way, I was trying to do that, too. 
Like I can't cover something up for him. 
I can't let him get away with something serious. 
Even though I love him with all my heart. 

And I know he hasn't done anything.
So I can see how people think I'm overreacting. 
I can see why my son is angry with me. 
Like telling the police was like calling the thought police on him. 
And I get how stupid that seems. 

And if I had thoughts and I opened up to someone about it, 
and if it was really hard for me to tell someone... 
And that person I told, told the police AND my doctor.... 
Well, I'd probably be upset and angry, too. 

But could they live with themselves if they hadn't said something?
If I snapped or whatever.... 
And no, I don't want to cause my son to snap. 
So now that I've done all that I can do, I have to step back.

This wasn't to hurt him. At all. 
I can see how he would be hurt, though. He trusted me.
His own mother! I get it. I really do. 

I betrayed him. His trust. He lost what little respect he had for me.
And maybe there was another way to go about this. 
That would have been better for everyone.

But when they were not answering the door.... 
I had to make sure they were both safe in there.
I had no way of knowing.

Even now, I have no way of knowing. Anything.
Especially now.

It was a really f*cking hard choice. 
And not knowing anything now is really hard, too.

But, yes, I acted too quickly on that.
Maybe he might have gone to the hospital when he was ready to. 
Maybe he was venting to me, maybe he wasn't.
Maybe it wasn't serious, maybe it is.
I don't even have any way of knowing that.
I acted without knowing that. 
Without a lot of thought to the consequences. 

If anyone had gotten hurt, I would have known things. 
That I could have spoken up about, but I did.
And I'm the only one who did. 
And probably the only one who knows.

Maybe he told other people, I don't know. 
He wasn't talking to his dad about it
or his doctors about it. 

So this has been pretty hard. 
Losing my son. I get it. I hurt him. 
I betrayed him. I broke his trust. 
I can't condone violence on anyone.
I already kept quiet for too long. 
It was too much for me. It is too much for me.
And losing my son is really f*cking hard, too.
REALLY F*CKING HARD!!!!!

But did I have to tell the cops?
Did I have to tell his doctor?
I had to tell someone. 
His father wasn't telling anyone.
He knows and wasn't telling anyone.

And it's hard because it's like I was painting him that way, 
but my son was painting himself that way, to me. 
Like "This is who I really am, mom."
Was he testing me to see if I'd still love him anyway?
Was he telling me just to scare me?
Or was he showing himself to me?
I felt that he was opening up to me. 
And what he told me shocked me and scared me.
He knew what he was telling me.
Maybe thought I wouldn't do anything about it
because it took me as long as it did
to decide that I had to. 
It was eating at me and now it really is
because there are so many unknowns
and unanswered questions. 
Because he cut me out of his life. 
So now, I know only what I know.
But I didn't take it to my grave. 
Other parents probably would have
and never said anything. 

"You did something, that's all that matters."
Is it? Did anything I do help him in any way? 
Helping him would have mattered more. 
And he feels like he never mattered
if I could betray him like this... 
If he can't trust his own mother, who can he trust?

So should I have kept quiet about everything?
And just hoped he changed his mind about everything?
If it meant keeping him in my life?
To whatever extent I could have him in my life?
After all the other times he's ghosted me?

Yes, I'm mad at myself for hurting him and breaking his trust. 
Would I be mad at myself for not saying something
if he had been planning on hurting someone?
If an arguement between him and his dad got too heated?
Could I say that at least I spoke up about it?
And the doctors who saw him and who I told
could have done something....
The doctors at the hospital knew enough....
I told the cops everything I knew in the report.
And even then, it may not be enough. 
Or it may have been too much. But it was all true. 
It was all I had and it was more than anyone else had.

And still I don't want to look at my son like that. 
He never used to be like that. 
Unless he hid so much for so long... 
He hid it from everyone but me.
I f*cking love my son. I do. I really do. 
This is so hard. As a mother, as a parent.

And he's probably thinking:
"I shouldn't have told her anything!
I wish I hadn't told her anything!
I can't tell her anything!"

If he's at risk of maybe doing something STUPID, 
then he's at risk. 
At least he told me instead of doing something STUPID.
A lot of kids just do stupid sh*t.
Like I said, I hope it's just talk. 
And even if it's just talk.... 
I still had to say something about it. 
Because sometimes it goes further.
Nobody wants that. Ever.

And I'm aware that things could go a different way.
And things could have gone a different way.
And I don't know how things will go 
or how things will be.

I used to do morbid sh*t when I was a kid. 
I used to go straight to the obituaries in the newspaper
just to find out who'd died. 
I used to contemplate my own death. 
I had attempted suicide. 
I used to want to visit the cemetary. 
I used to draw skulls.
I grew out of all of that, though. 

I wasn't doing these things, though. 
I wasn't saying these things. 
And yes, I blindsided him because I took a long time
to decide to say something. 
I could have said something sooner. 
I did tell his dad right away. 
That's all I could think to do. 
And this stuff was really hard to think about and talk about.

Serious things have to be taken seriously.
And it's hard to do the right thing, in most cases.
Was it the right thing?
A lot of people told me that I did.
Did it help? Did it do anything?
So how was it the right thing?
To make people aware?

And all the morbid stuff I never told anyone....
And I have never hurt anyone...
And I never would, never will.

That came into play when I was taking a long time to decide.
Because as far as I know, my son hasn't hurt anyone.
If he really wanted to, he could have. He hasn't.
I had to take that into consideration. 
Was I still justified?
Could I live with myself if I knew all along?
Could any of you?

And it's still hard knowing that I betrayed his trust!
And that I may never see him again!
And that anger I caused just added to the anger that was already there.
But I could have kept quiet. 
Pretended like I didn't know anything. 
Like many parents do....

Like Casey what's-her-face's parents.... 
I'm willing to bet they know more than what they are saying. 
Even though they lost their granddaughter. 
Maybe losing their daughter, too, might be too much for them. 

And I can't sleep knowing I lost my son. 
That he's angry with me. 
That I might not get to see him. 
That he might be thinking about hurting me. 
He may have already had thoughts about hurting me.
But he knew I love him. 
And maybe that's why he didn't.
But now he's asking himself if I ever loved him. 
Because if I love him, how could I betray him like that?

Do you know how hard this is? DO YOU KNOW?
The guilt runs so f*cking DEEP.
And if he had hurt someone
and I had said nothing, how would I feel then?
Would I feel only a tiny bit better knowing
that I supposedly did all that I could do?

And I know that a lot of this is because he's really angry. 
And he's really angry because he's really hurt. 
And I hurt him even more. 
That makes me feel so f*cking sh*tty. It really does. 

My job was to help him heal from the hurt and the pain. 
Help him open up his heart again. 
To show him the good in him. 
To help him see that. 
That was supposed to be my job. 

The good he doesn't believe exists. 
And he told me as much. 
"This is who I am, mom. 
I've changed. 
I'm not who you thought I was."

And I still want to look at him the way I always have.
When he was so sensitive and caring. 
Before he turned all of that off. 
Before he got hurt. 
And what hurt him even more
was that nobody seemed to see or care
that he's been in so much pain. 
I see it, I care. 
And I wanted him to know that. 
That it's the reason for his darkness. 
That his light is still there, somewhere. 
He has to decide to turn that back on. 

And that is what I need to tell people, too. 
Both sides of the story. 
He can't just be treated like some evil person
for having all these evil thoughts. 
He's in a lot of pain. A lot. 
And maybe, had I gotten him to open up about that.... 
Maybe that would have brought us closer. 

Instead of telling what I know. What he said.
Yes, it scared me. Of course it did.

And I may never get to tell him these things. 
Or anything. Why I did what I did. 
That I still love him. 
How f*cking hard this is.

And yes, maybe I should have chosen him. 
I acted without thinking it over. 

It makes me look like I care more
about trying to save someone's life
and getting my son treatment
than I care about how he feels about any of this. 

But I don't want someone to get hurt to spare his feelings. 
Because I'd hope he'd get over it. 
And realize this is a hard choice to make.
And I wish I never had to make this choice. Ever.
And yes, it took me a long time to make it. 
More time would have meant more options. 
It was so hard to admit to myself
let alone to anyone else. 
Even writing it on here is f*cking hard AF.
But it's getting it out. It's hard.

In the time it took me to decide, anything could have happened.
I don't know if anything did. 
And if anything did, then that is on me
for not speaking up sooner. 
And that would be hard to live with, too.
But his dad also knows. I told him.

I know my son is hurting, badly. I see it. 
I recognize it. 
But it's NO EXCUSE to hurt anyone. Ever.

So I had to decide what kind of person I needed to be.
Even though I am his mother.