When I was getting well ten years ago, I thought I was getting well mostly for myself and my family.
I was so depressed that I couldn't function. Couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't care for my family. I'd need something from Wal-Mart, pull out of the driveway, and then realize: I can't remember how to get to Wal-Mart.
Clearly, something had to be done. I needed to get well, for sure.
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