Written by Steven Barto, B.S., Psy. IT WAS FOUR IN the afternoon. I was driving along the river in my home town. It was the fourth decade of my struggle with active addiction. Overwhelmed with thoughts of utter failure, rabid hypocrisy and complete hopelessness, I started ruminating about the idea of suicide. Why not? It …
For Jimmy, Who Bruised By Ribs and Busted My Nose
I had a bully who pursued me nearly every day during middle school until one day I'd had enough. I round-house punched him in the face, bloodied his crisp white t-shirt. His dad came to the house and threatened to beat up my dad because I beat up his son. "See, this is why I …
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