“Thank you for restoring my faith in humanity.”
- Love What Matters
- Health
“Thank you for restoring my faith in humanity.”
“Right after I turned 15, I met the absolute love of my life. Apparently, we were never really exclusive. In the summer going into my senior year, I got pregnant. I learned alcohol numbed the pain. After my daughter’s father left without telling me, I started partying more. He had no more fight in him. Days after his 4th birthday, we brought him home on hospice care.”
“This was the tough part for me. Thinking back to how I grew up, and seeing how drastically different it was from them, broke my heart. As a kid, I remember asking for updated decor for my room or a new, more comfortable bed to sleep in, and my parents working their butts off to make it a reality for me. But these kids didn’t have that.”
“I don’t even recognize myself. I look tired. I look like I’ve let myself go. I look angry. I look really rushed. I know I’m a good mom. I don’t doubt myself in that department. But I also feel like all I am is a mom sometimes.”
“My family is very against medicine and doctors. My parents still don’t know I went to the doctor, or that I attend therapy regularly now. I don’t know what they would do, honestly. It’s ridiculous I need to hide going to the doctor, especially when it’s for my brain. My roommate was sharing how she couldn’t get out of bed. ‘It’s like someone placed you into a blank room, with no furniture or door or windows, and they expect you to thrive in it.’ It all clicked.”
“My obstetrician had to do another ultrasound just to see it with his own eyes.”
“When group members told her to treat the symptoms with everything from breastmilk to thyme, to elderberry, to sliced potatoes; the mom agreed.”
“Our brief phone call couldn’t have been longer than 5 minutes, yet it changed everything we knew or expected for our future. I had been hoping that they were wrong. Terrified of the unknown, I put off buying anything for our baby. I smiled throughout my baby shower I didn’t even want to attend.”
“This work leaks into every part of my life. There’s not a minute that’s safe. It calls in the middle of the night, during hair appointments, and workouts. Vacation doesn’t exist. I miss getting ready. I miss the compliments on my outfit and hair. The hot coffee, and people who got my jokes. When my brain operated well enough to form them. But I know the one thing I’d always miss more than work, are my children.”
“I knew nothing about heroin. But I did it. That missing feeling I had inside of me for so long was gone. It felt warm and like I was being hugged. It felt like I had arrived. In my mind, I was a heroin addict, not an alcoholic. I got drunk and got high that night. I would share needles with whoever. I found out I had contracted Hepatitis C. One of my best friends, who I used with, had been sober for 18 months. If she could do it, so could I.”