I haven't posted here in a while because things are in such turmoil within my heart, and I had to lay some things straight before I could even make sense of what's happening. Things with my little boy are... well, potentially horrible. The more I've spoken to people and the more I've been watching and listening, the more I fear for him. 

There are 2 days this week which stand out for me: The day that Sean almost cried and the day my friend and long-time child psychiatrist actually did.  It's heartbreaking in so may different ways and across so many different aspects of our lives that to try and describe it almost de-emphasizes the experience. I can't explain what's happening in any way that gives any sort of justice to how raw and exposed this makes me feel, and there are times that I'm so physically sick to my stomach that I want to curl up and forget that the earth even rotates.  There are moments of anger so fierce that I almost can't see straight, and then comes a crushing, almost debilitating sadness which settles itself into my very bones. I don't think there are any words that can come close to painting a picture even close to the darkness that has potentially touched us.

One thing is for certain- I've started the ball rolling for getting my little boy help, and I'll cross over into Hell if I have to. There is nothing that I won't do for him, and there is nothing that will stop me from getting Justice if need be.

I never thought that I could have such a primitive feeling toward protecting my son, but here it is, both fire-like and numbingly cold at the same time. It's an almost desperate dance of emotions with every sort of feeling clamoring to be heard, and yet there's the inability to react rationally to any of them. And the hard part, the most difficult part of it all is the very need to continue our lives as if nothing happened... until we get the Truth.  Because nothing can be done without that, even if that Truth is the very thing that may ruin any sense of security we ever had.