On Mother’s Day

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 ******


*TW, Suicide*

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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True story told in poetry. I am a Real and Raw Poet and Author of ”The Souls’ Poetry” my soul's true story of its’ journey to healing from the pain of childhood sexual trauma. I blog about my three year commitment to therapy and what life is like before and after healing. Decreasing the stigma of mental illness, inspiring women to tell their stories, and leading women To and Through Therapy is my mission.

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