I Prayed for a Miracle—Now I Lock My Door at Night

those sentences like they were oxygen.

Because I thought I was the only monster who had those thoughts.

I found a local support group that met in the basement of a community center—no fancy signage, no cameras, no balloons.

Just folding chairs and bad coffee and a sign-in sheet.

The first night I went, I almost turned around in the parking lot.

My hands continue reading …