She is running. J is never home these days, and when she is it is not for long. She is frantic. Her speech is like verbal garbage falling from her mouth. Her eyes are huge and she barely blinks. She is the walking poster child for mania.
It doesn’t help that she just got paid and her tax money is due any time now. For J, money and mania is as deadly as drinking and driving. I’ve talked to her already and she sees the signs. But how do you pull back? How do you stop the freight train that is flying down the track without any brakes? The doctors never really answer that question. How do I sit and watch the accident unfold? All I can do is warn her, but when she is in this state it doesn’t stop until…well, you know.
Depression. The evil twin of mania. It will slow her speech, stop her traveling, and halt her spending. Each time, I pray it doesn’t take her life. And, if I am being truthful, I pray it doesn’t take my life. Every time I watch her go through this, I die. I rage against a God, or Gods, or just the fucking universe, for doing this to her. Yeah, I’ve heard it before: there is a reason for everything. I have to say, I don’t see a reason for this suffering she must endure. I don’t want to know that there is an all-powerful BEING who would allow the agony I have witnessed. For that matter, what type of glorious GOD would allow me to be molested at the age of four? Or gang raped as a teenager?
Sorry, I got carried away. I’ve seen too much suffering lately. I sat in the hallway today as a nine-year old described her home life. She lives with eleven other people, all but one older than she. They make her fist fight her eight-year old brother because they think it is funny. She had a busted lip. I’m pretty sure she’s been molested, but I cannot get her to admit it yet. Another child was so hungry he was literally shoving food into his mouth like some sort of caveman. This was on Tuesday, right after we returned from a three-day weekend. I wonder if he had eaten at all since school on Friday.
There is so much pain with our young people. They don’t deserve this kind of life. My daughter is a good, decent person. She doesn’t deserve the pain she deals with every day. The children I see at school are too young to deal with the adult issues they must deal with daily.
My heart hurts today. I’m having trouble seeing the beauty in this world when all I see is immense pain and suffering of our children.