Is it sad that I feel comfortable in this hospital? It starts with one moment that leads to another and then another. One bad decision that sends you spiraling out of control. The Percocet prescribed to heal me ended up being what I needed to survive. It gave me false hope and a sense of security. One pill turned into 2, into 3. Soon enough I would become numb, but in reality I was becoming just as empty as the void in my womb. The pills kept coming, and I kept taking: the only thing holding
me together. I thought I had hit rock bottom, but I was far from it.