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The Power of Giving My Mental Health Experiences a Name
One pop, two pop, three pop, four! Five pop, six pop, seven pop — I lost count after that. I’ve forgotten what I was mad about. Sprawled on the mattress, on the floor, sheets unruly and still in my outside clothes, semi-conscious. My roommate found me. I took her hand and with my right thumb I wrote the number seven on her palm many times over. It took her awhile to realize that I took one too many of my anxiety pills. And off we went to the ER, yet again.