and I really wanted to take them.
There’s nothing more frustrating than wanting to be dead, but not being able to kill myself because I couldn’t possibly do that to my children.
But my brother knew and called my dad who came and took me to the emergency room.
I have borderline personality disorder. A disorder that makes me irrational, over-reactive and very difficult to live with – you can ask my husband. I have kept myself under control for a very long time, but I’m worn out and can’t hold it anymore.
It takes the smallest criticism to send my mind into a spiral to the depths at a speed so fast it’d make Captain Kirk nauseous. And it’s impossible to grab and still once it gets going.
That’s why those percocet looked so good.
But my children will never wonder why their mother didn’t love them enough to stick around.
My husband doesn’t know what to do with me or with himself.
I start a treatment program in September.
It’s going to be a long summer.