It was March of 2018 and my third attempt at medication in three years. To try to ease my troubled mind. I had tried drugs before — prescribed or not — but this time, I was more desperate than usual for one to work.
Because it wasn’t just myself I was trying to save, it was my marriage. My husband and I had recently experienced another incident.
Another episode of me unconsciously going after him. Attacking him. Followed by me attacking myself. Another menstrual cycle had come and gone, and I still didn’t understand what came over me each month.
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