My son Daniel has been gone from me for thirteen years. He left me heartbroken, sick, and in debt. The old hurts lingered, even though he returned yesterday with suitcases and a smile. I lay in bed that day, thinking about the day he departed, and it unnerved me.
The morning after he departed, I discovered a note that said, “I’m going, Mom,” on his pillow. Never search for me. I’m not going to return. I was depressed, lonely, and struggling to pay off the debt that my late husband Robert had left behind in addition to my chronic sickness.
From then on, the days flew past. I tried to contact Daniel, but he was nowhere to be found. I had to handle my issues on my own, going to treatment to manage my illness and working multiple jobs to make ends meet.
I gradually began to reassemble my life as the years passed. I maintained my treatment appointments, paid off my debts, and took solace in my daily routine. But the emptiness persisted, and I frequently wished Daniel would return.
With two bags and a bashful smile, he knocked on my door later that evening. He apologized for his departure and highlighted how difficult it was for him to give up gaming and drugs. As I listened, I felt both sympathy and rage.
After we had supper, I could tell he had changed. His eyes were deep set and his shoulders broad. He told me about his aspirations to start afresh and responded yes when I asked him if he was okay.
However, while I was lying in bed that night, I heard odd noises. It hurt that Daniel was running through my funds because I had put a lot of effort into saving that money. He followed my instructions and left. This further destroyed my heart.
I discovered that while I was crying, I needed to prioritize myself and receive proper treatment. I was prepared to seek treatment and support from a support group, so I gave Dr. Chen a call. My life could no longer be dictated by Daniel’s decisions; I had to get better and go on.
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