After swallowing the last of about 20 bottles of pills left in my husband’s medicine cabinet, I walked by the open door of the room where my daughter was sleeping. I looked at her sweet, angelic 9 year-old face with tears pouring out of me. The realization of what I was doing to her by ending my life hit me hard. I immediately woke my husband so that he could take me to the hospital. Suicide – no longer an option After getting my stomach pumped and wearing a barf bag around my neck for 3 days, my selfish thoughts
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