These are the harrowing words that now haunt me every time I even think about hurting myself or trying to take an overdose. As an act of trying to prevent myself from carrying out such urges I have placed a photo of my son under the kitchen knifes and also the inside of the medicine cupboard with a speech bubble and the words “Don’t do it, Mummy! xoxoxo”
If the doctors won’t help me and keep palming me off with pills or to specialists who then don’t want to know so I get “lost in the system” then who will help me? I have to do something to try to keep myself on this Earth. I don’t want to for any other reason besides to see my grow up.