I'd packed, checked in online, printed out the boarding passes and nearly overfilled the bath.
I settled in it, the water lapping the edges, bubbles up to my chin.
T comes in, tearful and shaky.
He's not been right for a little while, his skin is dreadful and he's had more tantrums than we would normally see...
He didn't see that it was worth continuing to live, he told me. Life just gets harder and harder, every year more difficult.
College, swimming, everything just looming in front of him.
He'd much rather not learn to swim, because if he fell in water, he'd drown and that would be the end of it.
And that would make him happy.
Tears fell onto the floor from him and I tried so hard not to join in.
We talked and mused and we tried to break down big problems into littler ones.
I agreed to write a letter to his teacher (who T reckons, doesn't understand him) and see if that helps.
Then we'll try the next problem.
T seemed better after. Later, Mw made him roar with laughter and I was relieved.
Last time T got this low, he thought of ways to "give up his life" and he now is older and wiser and could think of ways that would work...
And on CF someone suggested that people who get angry with a god who doesn't ease sufferings are "spoiled brats"- like children wanting an iPod.
All I want is for the 6 year suffering of my 17 year old to end for long enough for him to actually enjoy life and want to continue it.
Is that too much to ask?
If it is, I'm a spoiled brat and will continue to be so.
I want his sufferings to end and I see no reason why I should stop wishing that for him...
Off to France tomorrow, M holding the fort.
Why do these things always happen as I go away?