This the word that has become my world these last few months. Overwhelming despair as I face a life sentence ending with the death penalty. It would be welcome at this point because a normal life isn’t something I have any hope for.
Had I known a year ago what I know now, it may have been different, but lack of social and government education isn’t an excuse. You need health and money for that, and I have neither. I am alone and running out of resources.
So often I hear “I’m sorry”, “call this number”, “maybe they can help”. It’s more closed doors or more paperwork and endless wait-and-see. My stroke shouldn’t be a death sentence. I’m 52 and I have no family here in the US. No close family, just a few friends and the knowledge of biological sisters.
I’ve cried so much the last few days. Praying to God’s for help and guidance and His help, pleading to my Dad for strength and the hope he’s looking after me. It’s probably pointless, but I still continue to hope.
I need help and I don’t know where else to turn. Dad’s family still cares, even though we have been intentionally estranged for decades, thanks to Mom. I am hoping to see them again someday, but that looks unlikely. Without hope, what do any of us have to live.