Wake up!

I came across an old post of mine and thought how things happen without warning. Life happens at any moment. No one expects life happen the way it does. I suppose I would have been more prepared for things if I knew what was about to happen.
Come to think of it, in some cases, I knew exactly what was about to happen and I still wasn’t ready.

I wonder what this says about us and our society.
I came across an old thought of mine, which was written after a shooting took place in Chicago. The gunmen was a kid. Just a kid . . .
And everyone jumped at the parents because who else could we blame?
What I wrote was the following thoughts, which are just time sensitive thoughts and nothing more.

No parent ever believes it will be their kid. No mother expects “That” phone call, and no father thinks it will be his son, or daughter.

During the close of August in 1989, a few local teenagers burglarized a neighborhood delicatessen. They broke through the side window on a mildly quiet street just after sundown and hid themselves by blending in the side streets of their normal everyday town.

A police helicopter was deployed to search the area. Later that evening, the teenagers were found at the neighborhood pool and taken into custody. This story was reported in the newspapers. I assume everyone who might have read the article asked the same thing.

Where the hell were the parents?

All I can say is my mother and father was home at the time. No different from anyone else, I come from your normal family with the same dysfunctions as anyone else. I had loving parents and all the opportunities to live my life and improve. I had a roof over my head. I had my own room. There was food in the fridge. There was love in the household as well as common struggles of keeping life together.

I was punished when I needed to be. And though I never learned very well, I was taught several lessons. Yet still, I found my way into addiction. I found myself in trouble. I was sick. I struggled with depression. I had learning disabilities that frustrated me and social anxieties that paralyzed me in many different ways.

So you ask, “Where were his parents?”

Some nights, I heard my mother crying because she felt helpless. When I grounded to my room, I drank from a stolen jug of gin that I kept hidden in one of my many hiding places. When I was allowed out, I got high.

My father would come home after work, or more accurately, he’d come home after a day that started before sunrise and ended after sundown. We were a regular family, no better no worse than any other. We had bills that needed to be paid so in order to pay them, my family had to work.
This is what people call, “Making a living,” which is necessary to pay things like say, a mortgage, or maybe the unending list of monthly bills.
My Mother and Father tried to reach me. They both tried to help. But neither of them knew how. Neither of them was educated about mental illness. They certainly had no idea what I was going through; and I know this because I never told them what I was going through. By the time they found out; it was too late.

They didn’t know I had a small .25 caliber pistol hidden in my room or how I supported my use. They never knew I was a thief. They didn’t know that I tried cutting heads of off parking meters, which was a waste because after all the effort, I only raked in about seven bucks.

Regardless of their attempts or love and support, I still found myself in the worst of places and doing the worst of things. In spite of their efforts, I still worked my way into the habit and was capable of terrible things.

But I say again, no one expects this to be their kid. No parent is prepared for that phone call from the precinct, which says, “He’ll be arraigned in the morning.”

Safe to say, an entire country is asking where two specific parents were after a tragedy in Colorado. (This is the time sensitive part I was telling you about.)

Safe to say there are two parents whose home is surrounded by news vans and their life is destroyed by the fact that their child has ended several lives with a pistol.

But it’s also safe to say they never thought this would happen.
No parent does.
Just remember:
Hell is always open for business. No matter how you tighten gun laws, there will always be someone out there with another idea.

This was written several years agi and the truth still remains

We need to wake up and pay more attention to mental illness

Focusing on symptoms will not end the problem.

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