I second guess most things parents would never think about.
It hurts my soul to do so but without, I feel anxiety.
I question when my children are quiet. I question them going over to others homes. I over analyze their actions and reactions. I live in a prison that was not ever mine to live in.
I pray for God to ease my mind. I pray for God to wash my mind. I stay up in the middle of the night praying for horrible images to be released from my mind.
It’s a life-long sickness. One dealt with mostly in silence.
I do the best I can with my children and I pray they never experience a loss of innocence. I pray I parent them to the best of my ability and for God to cover me and them. I pray my children aren’t broken. The overwhelming thought is that I just don’t know, and may not know until years and pain of locked up emotions come barreling out in the worst ways. I just keep the best outlook I can on life and raising them.
But in the back of my mind, I know it can happen to them.