I’m reading “Rogue Lawyer” by John Grisham. A man on trial has just been exonerated by a jury that didn’t even go into deliberation. I’m crying. This has touched me deeply. Justice, all too often not reached in the US so-called “criminal justice system”, is served. But it’s not the system that has me in tears. It is my own experience and history. 

I bore and raised four children, two sons and two daughters. My youngest son died by suicide and I blamed myself. My other son hasn’t spoken to me in many years. I don’t even know why. I have ruminated about the possibilities and, again, blamed myself. I am always ready to blame myself. I’m tired. 

The tears feel like a release. I tell myself, “I was a good mother.” I worked hard at it. I don’t know that my children would agree. It was important to me. I don’t think they have any idea how much. Can I release myself from the guilt over my sons? This weight is so very heavy. 

I have a good relationship with my eldest daughter…I think. We communicate regularly. She is living in my house while I live and work in Germany for a little over a year. My other daughter, well, it’s a little rocky, but I’m hopeful it will get better. 

Today, a Saturday, I am taking it easy. I’m sitting in bed as I write this. I slept in today until almost 10:00. I’ve put a stew in the crock pot and cooked myself some eggs for breakfast. I’m feeling a little sick, cold-like symptoms. I work with little ones in a day care setting and didn’t wear my mask as regularly as I should have. I also work with middle and high school kids in a youth center and I don’t wear a mask there at all.  

There’s some melancholy that comes with not feeling well for me. I have another 10 months on this assignment. I wonder what I will do when it’s over. I really don’t know. My supervisor asked me recently if I would consider staying on. I told him no. The weather is very gray here. He tells me it’s beautiful in the spring. We’ll see. 

I have seasonal affective disorder symptoms, on top of PTSD, along with some depression and anxiety. A coworker has offered to do EMDR with me to resolve some of the PTSD stuff. I don’t know. I had a bad experience with a therapist I saw for an intake to do EMDR. She was typing on a laptop as we spoke and kept looking up and away from me. I brought it to her attention, thinking she was looking up to a window where I’d seen a man, presumably her husband, at a sink. She said that wasn’t the case, that she has a “lazy eye”. In any case, it was a turn off for me. I’d been seeing a therapist, who I continued to see, who recommended I do EMDR. It was a bust and I never followed up. 

I later saw a wonderful trauma therapist. Unfortunately, she died, tragically, shortly after the trauma group I attended with her completed. Around that time, I broke up with a man I considered the love of my life. I wonder, sometimes, if we would have made it through if I’d been able to continue working with her. He’s married now. 

I wonder, often, if I’m just not cut out for a relationship. Friends tell me I just haven’t met the right person yet. I think I need to be kinder to myself. Give myself an innocent verdict.