Relief

April 2016

Can I get some relief by writing in this journal? An exoneration of my mistakes? The decisions I made, actions I took that now in hindsight I wish I’d done differently? The actions I took or didn’t take that I now look at as tantamount to killing my son?

Do I know that’s ‘unreasonable’? Of course, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because deep inside me I regret some decisions I made. Deep inside I know I’m a fucking idiot. I can’t cover it up with reason.

Why on earth did I agree to let Vaughn go back on Ritalin? Practically encouraged him. I think he knew it wasn’t a good idea. But I robotically listened to that damn neuro-surgeon. Ceded to his ‘authority’ instead of using my own brain to at least research other opinions. Why didn’t I call the psychiatrist from Oregon? I know he would have said to stay away from Ritalin.

I truly believe that was the beginning of the end. It was like saying, ‘here Vaughn, go back on meth. Even though you yourself have doubts.’

Why?? So he could concentrate on his schoolwork?

And all the other bad decisions I’ve written about.

They are all lying there, still, under this veneer of ‘healing’. So I feel a little better on the surface, but numb underneath.

I probably need to forgive myself. But how can I? How can I forgive myself for killing my baby?

Nancy says all parents, no matter the circumstances, feel guilty for not protecting their children who died. Again, a rationalization that smooths the surface of my mind but leaves my certitude about my stupidity and carelessness intact.

All I can hope is that Vaughn forgives me. And I know he does. But that doesn’t restore him to me. That doesn’t assuage my loss. I can’t help feeling that if I hadn’t made those mistakes I could have my son back. I could have had what I want, yes selfishly perhaps, what I want: my son back with me.