I have been reading all morning. I thought I would take a small break and write.
As I mentioned yesterday, I talked about the parole hearing in therapy. Toward the end of the session, my therapist asked how I felt about everything, and that question has stayed with me.
During the hearing, he showed no emotion at all. The drunk driver just stared into the camera, speaking in this flat, monotone voice. It was unsettling, almost eerie, and it made the whole experience feel even more uncomfortable. Before the hearing, I was feeling conflicted about whether he should be released, especially considering his age. I was trying to weigh compassion against everything that had happened.
But sitting through the hearing, I was feeling like a fool for being conflicted.
Now, I feel angry that I was even conflicted in the first place. It didn’t feel like I was looking at someone who understood the weight of what they had done. There was no visible remorse, no sense of responsibility, just a kind of emptiness. Even when he asked for forgiveness, it didn’t feel meaningful. It felt inappropriate, especially knowing that he’s been told not to ask for that. The judge even called him out for that. It came across more as something said for effect than something truly felt.
And then there’s this part of me that still feels bad for him because of his age, and that makes me frustrated with myself. I don’t want to feel sympathy for someone who caused so much harm. The therapist says that makes me human. That doesn’t erase what the drunk driver did, and it doesn’t mean he should be free.
If anything, his own words reinforced my fears. He talked about wanting to get back to driving, even though he legally can’t. And it’s hard not to believe that a lack of a license wouldn’t stop him. That thought sticks with me, the possibility that he could hurt someone else if given the chance.
More than anything, I feel relieved that parole was denied. There’s a sense of protection in that decision, not just for my family and me, but for others too. At the same time, I’m left holding all of these mixed emotions, anger, relief, frustration, and even that lingering trace of empathy I don’t quite know what to do with.
I just got a call from a friend, and I’m still trying to process it. Her son died, and they don’t know what happened yet. It feels surreal, like my mind is struggling to catch up with what I just heard. I don’t even know what to say or how to react. It’s just… heartbreaking. I remember him when he was younger. I feel so much for her. I feel lost in how to respond.
I didn’t really eat much today. I just wasn’t really hungry. I did study, although it was hard to focus. I’m going to make myself some tea and read for a little bit. We are having salmon and veggies tonight. I will start that around 6.
