Today is the day that I will end my life. I don’t see any other way to end my pain. I’m so very weak and in many ways already dead. My heart—my spirit—broke so long ago, that now I am afraid I may not even have one.
I am so hungry, yet I don’t allow myself to eat. Sometimes I fall down and I don’t even care; there is nothing within me to sustain me.
I am empty. I am dead.
The paramedics check my pulse and find it beats so slowly—only fifty-two beats a minute.
Fifty-two beats too many.
I came into this world with my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, born in my own mother’s bed…