Going through my mind today…
A young man in his twenties with Williams syndrome (a neuro developmental disorder) was attacked and taunted by a group of teens who recorded it and posted it online. Like the autistic teen tricked into having feces and urine dumped on his head, I could not watch it. Its too much.
Also on my mind is the question of hope.
What is it, how do you define it, and who gets to say who should, or should not have it. Who gets to say when hope is “false?” Is it something you can give or take away?
Answers take the shape of :
A false cartoon,
Five movie quotes,
A bible verse,
Someone getting it right, but simultaneously getting it oh so wrong.
Meaning in life is made ultimately by the individual, regardless as whether you see yourself as a product of a God, or merely the interaction of the universe.
I’m thinking similar thoughts on goals though I’m settled on the idea that people decide for themselves what success is, for themselves based on what they’re goals for themselves are. Also that success does not actually equal worth, they are two fundamentally different things.
For me, my goal, the only one that truly matters above all is TAKING CARE OF MY CHILDREN.
Food, shelter, learning, safety, an enriching environment for them
(wanting to make the world a safer more accepting place for them falls under that)
Managing that is success.
There is nothing else I want.
Everything else is trivial.
Nothing else is more important in this point in my life, and there is nothing likely to ever take its place in intensity even as my responsibility providing for them lessens, even if/when I am physically incapable.
I thought, I only needed time to try to establish some workable post-divorce life for them that was secure.
I’ve been failing at that. This is failure to me. It is FAILURE to meet my most important goal.
I always knew we balanced a thin line between ok and disaster, and the next unforeseen problem would be the push over the edge.
(we are not eligible for any assistance beyond what the boys receive)
It just turned out to be a malicious would-be thief. Sometimes hope is false.
I’m thinking about this. The fear of this is what kept me in an unhealthy marriage too long. A therapist suggested it was a false fear (an excuse) when really the fear was change, as well as a tool for control. Sure it was that, but it was also a real fear.
I’m thinking of 1500 dollars, the predicted bill, and the impossibility of getting my van back without giving up the money intended for food, electricity, and car insurance this month. And, then what will I do?
Asking for help,
it’s all I can do at the moment.
And what will I do when I keep failing at keeping things together… I thought, I’d have something figured out by now.
Online friends have offered to help us out, I’m very grateful for the offer, and have set up a “go fund me” account if you would like to donate towards our van repairs.