I could not handle the mediocrity any longer. I was 38 years old and life with my husband felt stagnant; 10 years together without moving forward, no house, no kids, and debt was high.

I’ve lost count of how many times my dad has absolutely exploded in anger–to the degree of screaming and throwing things–and being unsure of whether or not he was going to hit anyone, including me. I can still feel the energy of his wrath reverberating through the house when his anger took control.

I worship at the Church of Antipsychotics. I have more faith in meds than a higher power. If I’m looking for salvation, it’s in an orange cylinder with a prescription refilled every month.