“I was the one who stayed out late, the one who always turned up. But I was also the one who had blackouts, who got hit by a car, forgot whole blocks of time, and always had something to be ashamed or embarrassed about the next day. That day in my living room was the last day I drank.”
“Even if this reaches one person, and they decide to face their demons and feel their feelings over becoming numb, all because I could show them it is possible, then my life purpose has been filled.”
“The boy asked if they should help me. His dad walked away laughing. That was a moment that can’t be undone.”
“Disability Pride is a journey. It’s messy, chaotic, disorganized. But my pride is my own, and no one gets to touch that.”
“I knew my firing was unjustifiable, my concerns against the department had yet to be addressed, and nothing would change unless I took a stance. My small victory is just a meager drop in the bucket.”
“I woke to find my husband blue in our bed with his left arm dangling off the side. My legs immediately felt as if they were made of concrete, and I could not stop screaming.”
“When Mitchell got the bottle out of the cabinet, I froze. What if we give her too much and she overdoses and dies? I was terrified of giving her Tylenol, and broke down in tears as my baby wailed in pain. I felt too paralyzed by my own horrifying thoughts to do anything about it.”
“This journey has taken me 10 years, countless appointments, oceans of tears, and an entire community.”
“I was introduced to heroin. Heroin invited meth, meth invited fentanyl, and pretty soon, it was just one big, drugged out party of hell. I was sleeping in abandoned houses, porches, outdoor elevators, dumpster enclosures, and sidewalks. I had boils all over my arms and legs, and the wound on my back was highly infected. I smelled like death.”
“He has changed me into a better person, a better mother. He is my hero.”
