Parents separated from adult children
Mondays are rough. So are the rest of the days in a week, but Mondays are especially quiet workdays for me. I often find my thoughts wandering to my missing children.
I try not to dwell on it, unless I have time to actually sort through my thoughts. I have tons of guilt in this area. I can easily get lost in all of the shame of this situation.
The details of the situation just keep me stuck in it, so I try not to think in details. Were there things I would change? You bet. Mostly it is a lot of blurry mess. Even now. Even after I’ve beat myself up for years.
And I have beat myself up. I’m black, blue and bloody from this mess. I have called myself every name in the book and then made up some more just for me. I have hated myself…
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