As title. No, I don’t want to see a doctor, they don’t hear you. I don’t want medication, its a bandaid. I just want release. My son is a young adult in his twenties but I know, even if I leave a note saying just call the police and don’t come in, that he will come in and find me. Only the thought that he will have that imagery for the rest of his life stops me right now. Before you say go to a hotel, he would still be the one to identify my body. I love him but I hate myself, my existence, […]