On a particularly dark night in 2016, my suicidal thoughts were prevalent enough to change into plans and actions. In one last, desperate attempt to stay alive, I reached out to the local suicide hotline.
The call lasted about 15 minutes before I hung up in pure frustration. For everything I said, there was a scripted answer. Empathy and compassion were non-existent.
I didn’t feel safe and had to guard my words. The last thing I needed was cops pounding on the door. I was distraught, suicidal, alone, and scared.Read more on themighty.com