Life After My Mom’s Overdose
I had never viewed my mother as an “addict.”
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.
Mental health affects us all, regardless of who we are and where we come from.
I wish that when you look to TWLOHA for hope, you find the support you need, you find a voice on the other end that hears you, a voice that sees you, one that’s there to hold hope for you.
I lived on a hamster wheel, in constant fear that I would lose everything I had earned if I dared to stop and take a break.
How do we hold onto hope, when everything seems bleak?
I’ve heard of it before, this phenomenon where the ones who survive the unthinkable wrestle with immense guilt for the very act of surviving, to a point where they find it difficult to celebrate being alive.
I still have days where I struggle with simply existing.
The story of my attempted suicide wasn't the entire story of my life...
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