And when he gets to Heaven,

To Saint Peter he will say,

I know I don’t deserve it sir,

But I’d really like to stay.

Sort of a bad day. You know what I mean? I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I am. What have I done?

Lord, what have I done?

I’m not linking any videos. No articles. I have nothing but hate for myself.

Did you know that April is Autism Awareness Month? I didn’t. I do now.

It runs in my family. Buried deep in some gene or chromosome somewhere. I have it. Certainly my childhood kept me in check, fear of lashing and beatings, all that. But once away from home I don’t know. Never occurred to me that I had multiple mental illnesses; how does one so traumatized ever realize that shit? I just knew I had problems.

Never should such a man have children. I loved them, but they died because of me. I can’t ignore it, can’t hide, can’t smother it. It’s true.

My son lived in hell. I really have no excuse to lie; everyone missed it. The autism. He was diagnosed ADD/HD and drugged. First, Ritalin. Then Concerta. Oh, they mitigated some of the problem behavior.

But he lacked the ability to tell anyone how he really felt. Such horrible things people did to him or had him do to them. He was trapped. He acted out. Then he was given narcotics. Hooked from that hour and minute, because for an hour or so, there was calm. Silence. Feeling good for the first time in his life.

The rest of his life was spent chasing the feeling of that first high. He found it in fentanyl, “fenny”. The killer drug from Hell.

Don’t bother. Don’t write to republican senators if you lose someone you love to fenny because it don’t mean nothing. From their lips, they say it out loud: “We don’t care.”

Anyone saying otherwise is a goddamn liar. Both parties are at odds, both impotent but talking mighty big. Street drugs cannot be fought. Not by parents, not by preachers, doctors, shamans, police, not even by the ghost of John Wayne. Intervention does not work. Rehab programs are a multi-billion dollar scam. The odds against rehabilitation are astronomical, and I know it. First, the addict must want to stop. Second, they need lots of support. Those two things almost never coexist. The drugs and alcohol are too strong. Stronger than you.

Having mental and emotional problems makes everything worse. Of the users I’ve known including myself, I’ve known two people who beat the odds. I’m one of them but I don’t count. One is a family member. The other is a walking, talking miracle. A super woman who had everything going against her.

What could have saved my boy?

Look, it’s not like I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t do it. I had no idea. When I did, it was too late. He was already ashes. For all I know, those have been dumped in his mother’s garden so the urn could be used again.

Even in death, they pissed on him. No wake. No service. Oh, but there was a barbecue scheduled. By then, his mother and stepfather were getting twisted up too. I don’t forgive them for what happened to my boy any more than I can forgive myself.

Today, I grieve anew for my son, who died just shy of 30 years in hell. My only consolation is, he was a Christian.

I was able to at least give that to my children. They did publicly say that they were of the Faith.

But while I believe they’re in heaven, I am still in hell. I deserve it. I didn’t see. I didn’t know.

I missed it.

Don’t let it happen to you. Read up. Make mental health as important as physical health for your child a top priority. Be close and live as best you can as an example to them of all the good things that one should be.

And pray that you won’t end up like me, alone, with a hole in you where they used to be.

Try not to bury pain or guilt. If you don’t deal with it now, mark my words: there will come a reckoning.

Today, I don’t like myself. Today, I grieve. There’s no comfort for a man whose life was wasted. Nor should there be.

Hug them. Tell them how much you love them, but show it, too. Sometimes words without actions are worthless. Take them for ice cream. Walks in the park. Play video games with them. Help with homework, feed them before you eat, but do take meals together.

Go see a movie. A ball game. Go bowling. Be a real parent.

Be well my friends. I love you all.