My Son Died by Suicide, and I Don’t Know Why
July 27, 2019, began as an unremarkable summer day.
July 27, 2019, began as an unremarkable summer day.
I’m beginning to believe that life is more than pain. And I’m a pretty awful salesman.
Therapy saves lives. What once felt like a burden has now transformed into a lifeline.
The relationship with my body is a complicated one—with ups and downs, celebrations, and resentment, but as of late, a lot of acceptance and contentment too.
While we can’t predict or guarantee any outcomes, we need you to know something...
I’ve gone through much of my life in a rush to get through...
Manipulative. Self-destructive. Unstable. Selfish. Untreatable.
I had never viewed my mother as an “addict.”
When I was 27, I downed a bottle of sleeping pills.
I was scared to be hopeful because that’s exactly when things would come crashing back down.
If you go to the Merriam-Webster website and search “silver linings,” you’ll find this definition: a consoling or hopeful prospect.
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