  I have been watching Sixty Minutes (because I can't bear to watch Big Brother) and there is a segment about a woman who killed her autistic child. It made me cry. I think how hard it is to raise two "normal" healthy children virtually on my own (they go to their Dad one night a week - when he is not acting out and abandoning them because his new partner is feeling insecure..again). It is frustrating at times and very rewarding. Sometimes I feel as though I am on my own and nobody loves me and then Boy comes and hugs me and tells me he loves me and I realise how lucky I am. Looking after my two is hard work - just keeping on top of everything that is needed, day in day out.
Sometimes life seems so repetitive and mundane that I could scream...and it is also the most important thing I will ever do in this life. If anyone tried to hurt my children I would stop at nothing to protect them. I love them. Totally. And yet I can see how this woman found herself just losing it and, in the end, losing her son. Was what she did terrible?
Yes. Should she be in jail? I think not. I think living with the knowledge of what she has lost will haunt her forever. I do not condone what she did but I do not believe that she meant to do it. I will admit that at times I lose it with my two, I have a temper and life can get me really down and then I get angrier than is warranted and I yell and scream and can be really negative with my children.
I don't like it and I want to change it. I am changing it and I still make mistakes. This segment just made me sit and cry. I have been doing a lot of that lately. I figure that eventually I will have sobbed out all the sorrow I have buried deep inside myself. Then I will emerge from the tears, cleansed and ready for the rest of my life.
I used to take Prozac to stem the tide of tears. I became numb. The grief just sat there and fermented. 
