It's tough for me to share this story with you, but if it helps just one person who is suffering from the shame of mental illness like me, I want you to know you are not alone.
When I was six years sober, I had been struggling for months to get out of bed most days.
I was exhausted and felt like I was walking around in cement army boots while sinking in quicksand. Even simple tasks seemed impossible. I felt alone and disconnected with the world.
The days grew darker and darker, and it became difficult to pretend I was okay. I only got out of bed because I was a single mom and needed to go to work to support my three small children.
I had no idea what was wrong with me.
I had many supportive people who loved me, but I didn't discuss this with anyone. My life on the outside was wonderful, and I felt like I had no reason to complain.
I went to doctors, therapists, and psychiatrist looking for help. Some looked at me and offered suggestions like, “eat more carrots and take...
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