I came so close to killing myself tonight in my driveway. I don't know if it's because my meds are fucked up, because my life is fucked up, or because my mother's birthday is coming up, but I very sincerely wanted to die tonight. I still do. I am here for my child only. I have no other reason to live. I have a very fulfilling job that I'm very good at, and I love it even though it doesn't pay the bills... I am fortunate enough to be able to use the shitstorm that has been my 34 years to help others, and I love that. But it's not enough to keep me on this planet by itself at all. If I didn't have my daughter, I would've killed myself before the cancer did. Heroin, maybe?? I was trying to remember, the other day, how many times I've overdosed on it... how many times my loving mother had to literally carry me to the hospital... I tried to remember how many of those times were intentional and I just never told anyone... I tried to remember how the hell I kicked... and why... but that time period is all a blur... all I can ever remember us how good it felt when it hit... I have a patient right now who is coming out of detoxing from heroin and wish I could share my story with her to help... I can see in her face that she knows, but I can't remember shit... I think I kicked for my mother. God, I miss heroin...
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