Dying to be loved
November 2016 | Our Personal Stories

Dying to be loved

At age 20, liquor had done its job. It made her believe she had nothing to live for

It was Labor Day weekend of 1983, and everything was foggy. I remember feeling almost dead—physically, spiritually, emotionally and mentally. I sat on the couch in my boyfriend’s apartment. The cocaine was gone. I know that because I was getting quite drunk.

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