It's hard to accept what they see...
My hands grip the steering wheel and I'm borderline terrified to accelerate more than 10 mph on the slippery terrain. And it's not the water or the inexperienced road handlers who either drive too slow or drive like a maniac, it's the visibility. Low visibility makes for a treacherous trip, a reminder of faith in the unseen and I can't help but wonder if I suffer from low visibility because why would I be in this car, driving to a place I'm ashamed of. A glance in the rear view window finds my teenage son gazing out the window or perhaps just looking but not seeing with his eyes wide open.
He is a good kid who towers over most and is often confused with an offensive lineman. Yet little children dart toward him like they would big bird or some oversized animated Disney character. They must since his gentle yet quiet demeanor. I'm easily prone to road rage and curse every other driver each time I fail to make the light. The anxiety increases when the dollar-store window wipers swipe too fast to keep the glass clear. I pound the dashboard jerking Jeremiah from his daze, we exchange looks and I continue forward wishing and praying.
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A blinking red light at a major intersection inspires defeat, I want to turn around and give up. I can feel a rise from my stomach, the same feeling that made me double over with tears the other day when I arrive at the hospital. It took several cryptic calls from family members, too afraid to tell me that my child had checked himself into the hospital not from any physical injury but from the realization of a mental disorder.
I understand Jeremiah as profound with words but somehow in his space of living, he is hearing voices. I am not ready to accept the signs that have been there for years because we have figured out different ways to cope and we've managed. I deal with his mental illness by saddling up what's left of my biochemistry degree. I throw around language to challenge each diagnosis from medical professionals who think they know better than I. And I never thought I'd say this, but thank God for Google. I struggle the most with the stack of pills that make him into somebody I don't know but every now and then he digs his way through the chemical cocktail.
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Posted in Real Estate Post Date 08/15/2022