I hear her call. I will answer her question by dedicating my life to finding ways to help mother’s alone with mental illness. Not all mother’s are happy on mother’s day. Please read ******
I had made my decision a few days before. I don’t remember what the day was like. I remember silence inside of me. only the echoes of my absolute inadequacies as a mother,as a girlfriend, as a woman. My partner was sleeping on the bed next to me. I was careful not to wake her. My children were sleep upstairs. I walked from our basement bedroom to the livingroom. I wrote a note. I took the pills out of their amber containers- there were at least a hundred. My mind was blank, I was on robot mode, with a logic that said that death was the only choice that could release me from the pain of living like this. I took the pills, then I went outside to smoke a Newport Red before I went to go lay on the couch and, hopefully, die.
That was not the…
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