I always felt like I was less than others because my mother wasn’t like theirs.

I remember my mother drinking to the extent she could not stand. Telling me she wanted to die. She took out all of her tablets and swallowed most of them, the ones I didn’t manage to knock out of her hands. I remember having to wait until she was unconscious to ring the ambulance because the times before when she’d overdosed and the ambulance came she would refuse to go and they would leave. This time I waited til she was non responsive so that they would take her and hopefully help her, but they just gave her charcoal to drink and sent us on our way hours later. My friends were aware what was happening when the ambulance arrived so I always felt like I was less than others because my mother wasn’t like theirs.