I woke up sad. Well, not woke up that way. It surfaced after maybe a half hour. It must have been there, but drowned in sleep. So I spent the morning in a kind of dreary limbo, overwhelmed with sadness, as though a blanket of despair had fallen over me.

It’s interesting what comes out of these things though. A failure, actually. I felt responsible for Ksymcia’s death. In my mind, at least, it was my job to make her happy. If she succumbed to despair, it was my fault. I didn’t make her happy enough. I was five years old. There was no logic to it. Just I loved her and I didn’t want her to die.

I think it cropped up again, very forcibly, because I told C I love her, and so I feel more responsible for her. I felt responsible before and now, it is like boulders on my head. If you think about what I felt I needed to keep Ksymcia safe from, the sense of responsibility as being like boulders is about right.

Translated onto the present, it means I have to keep C safe from all the Internet predators that seem to keep cropping up, and this ought to be easy except it’s not. And I need to be with her, because if I am not there, she might get sad and kill herself. Now, C is not sad. She’s really quite cheerful most of the time. She might have problems at home, but these days I don’t really think so. Not more than anyone else does, anyway. She’s really quite fine. But if people are constantly in danger of suiciding in some 5-year-old part of my mind, then I can start to understand. It’s an impossible task to keep someone safe all the time, even if you are grown, and it’s impossible to be with them or check on their well-being all the time. It was impossible when I was five, particularly given the conditions I lived in, and it is still impossible.

But the people I love now are not in such terrible pain all the time. They are not being tortured. They are not separated from their families and everything they once loved. They have tough times, but nothing like what people faced when I was a child. Most people are safe from that level of despair.