Every time I walk into the psychiatry office, a deja vu chill shoots down my spine. Coming through that door is exactly the same every single time. A…
The phone woke me up; it was my husband calling from downstairs. “You have to bring Erin to the Emergency Room. “She called the suicide hotline; she doesn’t have a plan, but she called.” I’m in shock and respond to him, “That’s impossible, she just spent the day in New York City with the Girl
I have to tell you that my early years were great. I had a lot of fun—cruising on my banana-seat chopper from one Kick the Can game to another, trolling forests with the neighborhood gang, being president of a shoplifting club. (Sorry, reader, but the adrenaline rush of pocketing a Hello Kitty eraser is a