Over the past week I have been feeling increasingly triggered by a much-publicized case going on here in Canada involving a repeat sex offender and two of his latest victims. Each had gone missing after being befriended by the perp (who had moved far away from here where he was well known by police).
It really hit home today when one of the victim’s father and uncle spoke publicly (to the media) after the perp’s arrest. After saying just a few words of thanks to the police, amber alert, etc. the father turned and literally ran back inside obviously choked up.
Abduction is the only charge laid so far but I’m bracing for more when the perp goes to court tomorrow. I cannot imagine that sexual assault will not be among the charges and you could tell the reporters were all assuming that as well.
The faces of these two boys, missing for about a week, have been in the news every day and as sad as it was while we’ve waited to learn of their fate the raw emotion I saw on the part of this Dad today was what finally got my tears rolling.
I wish, yes still regret, that in my youth I never officially went “missing” for several hours at a time but rather, in my mind, was just inexplicably drawn back to my perp’s hang-out time and again. I regret not having told my parents about it which no doubt would have led to me getting help much earlier and might have prevented me from a long, self-destructive path.
I’ve burned bridges with my most recent shrink (although I’m still trying to reach him) but meanwhile I just needed to vent. This crap can get dug up again and again. I think it was the age and the innocent looks of these boys’ pictures which so struck me. And how much I would like to have some time, adult-to-adult, with that perp (the one in the news and my own).
Looks like I got stuck in the past, by dragging out the self-blame thing again, when what I am also really feeling is the most heartfelt compassion for these two young kids. And compassion is good.