Psychology Today | 08.10.2026 21:48
In the fall of 2016, my mother found me drunk and crying in the upstairs bedroom of her home. “I want to die,” I confessed. I had turned the bedroom into my hideout when my life descended into the depths of a catastrophic depression. It was then that the mere thought of composing sentences for a job interview sent me scavenging for alcohol and pills. My mother drove me to the emergency department.
