The news is bad. I just found out that the man I was helping, not the bad guy, the good guy, has been abandoned in a small town about 50 miles away. The bad guy took all of his money and belongings and fled in the night.
I am just out of the hospital and this has only added to my woes. It really takes a toll on your 'spirit' when things like this happen. I have no way of getting to my friend to bring him home and I really don't know if he has a place to come to in the event that I have transportation for him. This is all so disheartening. I had such high hopes that this program would bring light to the situation of the veterans but it has only served to be a fiasco for all involved.
I haven't always been an angel, to say the least, but I have always tried to help when I could. I suppose my grandmother did a good job in that department. The thought of seeing someone in a wheelchair taken advantage of is not setting well with me at this point. I have to keep a tight grip on my emotions just now. My condition calls for peace and quiet, but it's not forthcoming. I have an upheaval inside that calls for retribution, knowing that's not the answer.
I know I'll get past this stage but I am not liking what I feel inside right now. The 'old John' wants to surface and make amends for my friend and yet, there in the depths, is that little voice whispering, "forgive". That helps. I can look to that and reach for peace and tranquility and overcome this slowly rising tide of bitterness that's trying to override the good.
"breathe in.... breathe out...."
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