Is there really justice anymore?

I find myself in a very difficult position. In principle, as a therapist, I have been always about rehabilitation. And I have suffered many injustices. Despite that, I have still chosen a place of forgiveness where I really want to see rehabilitation. I want to see people healed and restored. That is my heart's desire. That is one of the premises that I practice my career. And then the unthinkable happened. Despite the fact that I have suffered far too many injustices on a personal level, most of which people would think was unthinkable, it got worse. My son was assaulted. And we reported to the police. And crown pressed charges. And today was the day. Today was our court date. And as I sit and type this, tears constantly stream down my face, and as soon as I wipe those away, more follow.

And the crux of this is my status as a therapist. For as I sat in the courtroom, in a place of high anxiety all day, and the end of the day, "mental illness" was the status quo. And that's how it all came down. And I wonder how I reconcile all this. The very fact, that our justice system chooses to overlook the damages that my son sustained and sides in favor of someone who has potential mental illness. And rules in favor of that. And I might believe it, I just might........

...........until I saw him smirk at me as we walked out. And in that moment, I knew that he knew what he did. And I knew that he knew he got away with it. And I knew he knew the damages he caused. And I knew that he rejoiced in the fact that he got off, with nary a slap on the wrist. And what came down for him will not matter, it will not change him, nor will it change what he does or does not do. And all of this means nothing to him. I saw that in him as we walked out.

The crown tried really hard to convince us of our safety. Convince my son that this isn't just a paper thing. That there really is meat to it. I sat all day during court. I watched him. He sat there, spinning his chair, looking completely dumbfounded. Then he took the stand, and "couldn't remember" what had happened. Although he remembers punching my son in the head. And then his dad spoke, although I never got a chance to. And pleaded bullying and ADHD. But my son's bullying? His suicidality as a result of the assualt? None of that was spoken about. I didn't get to enter that as evidence. I didn't get to speak of the impact that this has had on my family.

And we came home, we cry in shock as we try to assimilate this information. And we google all the martial arts courses in Poco, because my son wants to carry a knife now, to protect himself. He won't but he wishes he could. And I remember his smirk as I walked out. I remember the look he shot me. And in that look, I saw that he knew, ..he knew exactly what he did, and he knew how he played it out. Whether or not he fools his parents, I don't know. What I now know, is that he uses his diagnosis to get away with murder. It wouldn't surprise me if he had his parents fooled. He knew he was guilty and he knew he played the ADHD card and he knew his parents would buy in hook line and sinker. He knew the judge would buy in. And the judge did. What was the recommended sentence was dismissed. Instead, a sentence in favor of his "illness" was decreed. I know the system, I am in it. I work with youth and I know what goes down. And I know that the sentence is and meant nothing with nothing behind it.



And so arises my dilemma..........how do I as a therapist, who believes in rehabilitation and restoration, come to terms with this? How do I reconcile this? It was a good principle in theory, until it hit me right in the gut and wrenched the knife in my heart with a good solid twist or two. When I see my son frustrated, scared, angry and fearing for his safety? When I see him trying to come to terms with what happened and how it affects his self perspective? When I see him doubt his goodness, his validity, his very being? Knowing this assault has impacted things? Knowing this assault has caused further questioning? Knowing his pain? Wrestling with him to ensure his safety? Arguing with him that there is a reason, we need to believe and trust, it will work out for good? Guarding him through the night to ensure he remains alive tomorrow? How do I reconcile this? How do I reconcile that rehabilitation is a good option? That there is something in every person worth my fight? When I lie awake at night, sneaking into my 17 year old's bedroom to make sure he breathes in his sleep before I go to bed? When I stand guard over his life night and day? And I remember the smirk on the face of that child. The child who knew what he did, who knew the damage he caused, who felt no remorse for his actions and in fact gloried in the fact that he got off with less than a slap on the wrist.
That expression is forever burned in my brain.

And the bigger question, how do I forgive? How do I teach my son to forgive? My son has issues. He has been bullied, he has suffered, far more than this child. For he has suffered abuse and he has suffered the loss of a parent. And yet, although, on the surface my child's suffering outweighs that of this child, my son would never hurt someone else. My child would never take his pain out on someone else. So how do I teach him to forgive? How do I teach him to have compassion on his assailant, who has not suffered the depths of pain my son has? Yet my son will not hurt others because of his pain? How do I teach him to forgive this child, who hurt him so desperately? When, my son, who has suffered greater depths of pain, would never take that out on an innocent? How do I teach him to look for, to find the goodness in people? How do I teach him to release and let go of his anger? To forgive, because for him that is the better option? How do I trust, that what goes around comes around and that on some level, justice will be served. How do I teach my son this, when I,. myself barely believe it anymore?

Lord have mercy on us. Because that is all I have left to hold onto............