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excerpt........My mom passed away on January 31st, 1983 of double
pneumonia and cirrhosis of the liver, due to years of drug and alcohol abuse. The events that ensued seventy-two hours prior to my mother’s death led me to believe I murdered my mother, by way of a prayer. We had a heated argument three days before she died; right after that contentious encounter, I ran to my room, immediately dropped to my knees on the side of my bed, and asked God to take her. My exact words were, “God, please take her away. Remove her from this earth.” I slipped into the worst kind of depression, the type of mental downfall that’s almost impossible to detect. It’s the type when an individual would smile, joke, and laugh when people are around, but when they were alone, they would go into the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet to stare at pill bottles, for the sole purpose of taking them, falling asleep, and never waking up! My biggest apprehension at the time was that I didn’t want to be in any pain once I took the pills; that was the only reason for my hesitation. |
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