It's funny how we feel so much, but cannot say a word."

Another long silence, I know. This time, my silence will not be followed by good news. Justin has slipped. My fear was that once he started school and was among his old 'friends' again, that he would start using. My fears were not unfounded, as within a week of school starting, all of the signs were there again. I ignored them for awhile, hoping they would go away, hoping I was wrong, but they soon became too clear to deny, and the vicious cycle began again. I think it would have been better if he did not stop using for that short time, giving me a false sense of hope that our painful road had ended. To be given that much hope, to have a glimpse of my son again, only to have it taken away. Well, it would have been easier if things had just stayed the same. I really can't understand what is going on his head. It is so clear that his life is better when he is not on drugs, and yet...

Life has been busy, overwhelming really. I started a new job, and it's stressful and demanding. My marriage, once strong, is starting to show cracks under the pressure of our son's problems, and all of the other problems that seem to go along with living. My life seems to be falling apart no matter how desperately I try to hold everything together. I have so many feelings going on inside me stemming from the circumstances of my life: anger, sadness, betrayal, bitterness. The bitterness is the worst, turning me into someone I don't like. In the past, writing about my feelings helped. Now, my emotions are too confusing, too difficult to discuss with anyone, even in this space. I'm afraid to let the ugliness out. If people knew what really went on in my head sometimes...well we shouldn't go there.

The title of this post is from Sarah's McLachalan's "I will remember you."

"It's funny how we feel so much, but cannot say a word,
we are screaming inside, but can't be heard."

And that's where I am today. Silent screams.