Your Mid-Week Update for 11/28/18

Am I a bad person?

I don’t mean in the way I senselessly murder anyone that crosses my path if the whim takes me, leaving their families and loves one alone and unprepared to face the harsh reality of a life without the one person they care most about in the world. I mean in the way I treat people I actually care about like my husband and son and one friend from work that I’ve grown attached to.

Heather has been doing really well lately, she’s coming in to work on time, getting her work done with only a playful amount of sassing. She and I still go for lunch every once in a while and talk about how things are going. How she’s adjusting to life on her own, how my family is doing, the constant uncertainty of existing as a woman in this century. At least back in the day, you knew who hated you because they would be the one lighting your pyre as you were burned as a witch. Nowadays? Who knows? There are only two men in my life whom I trust and I still believe Jason cold go either way with the amount of time he spends on the internet and not interacting with other humans.

This is what I was talking about with the “am I a bad person” stuff. I genuinely wonder if my son is going to turn out to be some sort of woman-hating conspiracy theorist – partially because my only context for young 20-somethings who live at home is the media’s portrayal of serial killers. I know he is adamantly against what I do and would never take up the family business but what if it’s something worse? I kill indiscriminately. He could be a racist, or sexist, or homophobe. I don’t know what I would do with myself if my child turned out morally worse than me. Even Sandra didn’t really care who she killed so long as her bloodlust was sated. I never worried that she was a bad person – just that she would get caught.

With Jason, I see a young man with lower than average social skills and a love of computers more than nature and I wonder what dark thoughts he might have and act on one day. But that makes me a bad person, doesn’t it? Believing my own son to be less than perfect with no real evidence other than my own fears. That can’t be right. I know it isn’t. But when you don’t connect with someone and all you see is the outside, your mind wanders.

Thank god he doesn’t read these. He would never forgive me. I know that for sure.

I can’t think about things that just aren’t true. I can’t let my imagination take over my common sense. I know my son. I know him to be loyal and intelligent and of independent thought. He will be fine. Besides, he’s made his intentions known to move out next year, he’s doing well in school, and has a job that might not be what he wants to be doing but he enjoys it and is paid well for his work. He’s on the right path. I have to trust that I haven’t fucked him up too much and he will, in fact be alright.

Maybe I am a bad person, on top of the morally decrepit murder I commit on a daily basis, but at least my child will be okay. He’ll be better than me, even.

I hope.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe