For Readers Who Read Yesterday’s Piece Differently
A Quiet Note About Families, Concern, and Living With Uncertainty
Yesterday’s article looked closely at a case that has drawn a great deal of public attention, and at what modern research tells us about adult parricide. It was written for readers who want to understand how these tragedies develop, and why they are so often misunderstood as sudden or inexplicable.
For many readers, that kind of analysis is enough.
But some people read pieces like that from a different place.
They aren’t reading out of curiosity or professional interest. They’re reading with a low-level tension they’ve lived with for a long time. They recognize the dynamics being described not as theory, but as daily life: instability that never quite resolves, worry that never fully lifts, the ongoing work of keeping things from getting worse.
This follow-up is not a warning, and it’s not an escalation. It’s not about predicting violence, and it’s not about any specific case. It’s about acknowledging that when we talk honestly about risk and family systems, some readers are inevitably closer to the material than others.
Because of that, I’ve created a separate, family-focused resource that steps away entirely from the case discussed yesterday.
It isn’t sent to subscribers. It isn’t framed as an article. It lives as a permanent page, available only if someone chooses to click on it. And it’s written specifically for families living with long-term instability related to severe mental illness, addiction, or chronic crisis in an adult child.
The title is Living With Constant Concern, because that’s the phrase families most often use themselves.
That resource does a few simple things. It puts language to experiences families often struggle to explain. It names the difference between managing instability and recognizing danger. It offers permission to think about safety without panic or blame. And at the end, it includes an optional checklist that some families find grounding, and others may choose to skip entirely.
Nothing in it assumes violence. Nothing in it diagnoses anyone. Nothing in it tells families what they “should” do.
It exists because families who live with chronic concern are often told contradictory things: that they’re overreacting, that they’re enabling, that they should set firmer boundaries, that they should trust their instincts. Rarely are they given space to hold all of those tensions at once, without being judged.
If yesterday’s article stayed at a distance for you, that’s okay. This follow-up isn’t meant to pull you closer.
But if yesterday’s article lingered longer than expected, or felt uncomfortably familiar, you might find the companion resource useful. You can read it privately, take what’s helpful, and leave the rest.
You can find it here:
https://joniejohnstonpsyd.substack.com/p/living-with-constant-concern-a-guide
One more thing:.
Reading about risk does not mean risk is inevitable. Feeling uneasy does not mean something terrible is about to happen. And seeking language or support does not mean you’ve failed someone you love.
Some of the most conscientious, devoted families live with the greatest uncertainty.
If you know someone who might benefit from that resource, you’re welcome to share it privately. There’s no need to explain why, and no need to frame it as urgent. Sometimes simply knowing that words exist for what you’re living with can lower the temperature a little.
As always, thank you for reading thoughtfully and with care. That matters more than it might seem.
Thank you.