We're not alone

For eight months, I was crushed by an overwhelming depression. My father had shot himself. Then two months later to the day, my mother killed herself with pills. I found myself spending hours after work dozing on the couch until dinner. Then I’d drag myself to bed. I was down to one AA meeting a week. It was one of the lowest points I’d ever had in sobriety. This time life had handed me a mountain I couldn’t climb.