A Mother's Obsession

I once had a happy family. Although we were not wealthy, our life was filled with warmth. However, everything changed completely after my son Danny was diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder. Danny was different from other children from an early age. He showed very little emotional response toward those around him, lacked empathy, and often engaged in acts that harmed small animals. My husband and I always thought he was simply mischievous and didn't pay it much mind. But once he entered elementary school, things got worse. He began fighting with classmates frequently and ignored his teachers' guidance. We took him to see countless doctors, underwent various tests, and finally received that diagnosis which struck like a bolt from the blue—antisocial personality disorder. The doctor advised us to admit Danny to a psychiatric hospital for compulsory treatment, saying it would be better for him and for society. My husband and I hesitated for a long time, but ultimately steeled ourselves to make this decision. We thought that as long as Danny could get better, everything would be worth it. At first, I visited Danny at the psychiatric hospital every day, bringing him his favorite snacks and keeping him company. But gradually, I noticed Danny growing increasingly silent. Every time I visited, he would just sit quietly, his eyes empty and distant. When I asked him what was wrong, he only shook his head and said nothing. It was only later that I realized Danny had been targeted by some malicious individuals in the hospital. They exploited Danny's intellectual disability and antisocial personality disorder to deceive him into gambling. They told Danny that if he won, he would receive a lot of money and could buy many things he loved. Danny believed it to be true and began gambling frequently. At first, Danny won some small amounts of money. He was very happy and felt he had found a shortcut to wealth. But gradually, he began to lose money, and his losses kept growing. Those people started pressuring him to repay the money, warning that if he didn't, they would treat him harshly. Danny was terrified. He didn't know what to do and could only borrow money repeatedly from them, hoping to recover his losses. In this way, his gambling debt snowballed bigger and bigger. When I received a call from the hospital informing me that Danny had accumulated huge gambling debts, I was completely stunned. I couldn't believe my own ears—how could my son have become like this? I hurried to the hospital, and seeing Danny so terrified and helpless, my heart broke. To help Danny pay off his debts, my husband and I had to sell our house and all our valuable possessions. Our once happy home was shattered in an instant. I thought that as long as we cleared the gambling debts, Danny could start anew—but I was wrong. Just when we thought things had calmed down, the hospital called again, saying Danny had racked up eighty million in gambling debts. Even worse, during a clash with those people, he fatally wounded a nurse and then fled. When I heard the news, it felt as though my entire world had shattered. I never could have imagined that my son would take such an irreversible path. I started searching everywhere for Danny. I went to all the places he could have been and asked everyone who knew him, but there was no sign of him. Each day, I live in pain and self-reproach. I keep asking myself why I didn't protect Danny better, why I failed to notice his problems earlier. I despise my own helplessness and negligence that have driven Danny into this desperate situation. Still, I have not given up searching for Danny. I firmly believe he is still alive, waiting somewhere for me to save him.