Son, I know you are sick
I know you suffer so
There is no cure
And this you and I know
‘Your spirit is freer than the rest,
Your creative imagination is so ahead of ours’
I explain while you protest,
Your thoughts are not in our powers.
I hate to see you bear
Such an un-just burden
Your mind heavy with unrealistic fears,
I wish I could always be there to wipe your quiet tears.
The world is not kind to an illness like yours,
I am helpless to stop this progression.
I weep a river for you when you finally sleep,
In some cruel ironic way, wishing it were only fatal.
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In November 2009, Scotty's illness precipitated the events of his death at age 23. I read somewhere when Scotty was diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia that 90% of those suffering would be dead or homeless by the age of 40. I thought, 'I won't ever let Scotty be homeless'. I disregarded the dead portion, too much to bare the thought. Well we bare it now.
It is fatal, only if it wasn't!
Susie Harrison
AKA-Mom
Janet
*tears* (((HUGS))) and prayers :(