Tipping Point: Suicide or Exploring a New Identify
This post is dated 2016 and written in 2022. I had a good life. A lucky child. I was a veteran. I married a pretty girl. We raised ideal children, both high school valedictorians. Now one's a PhD and the other's got her Master's. I had some modest financial success; I could pay my bills, we had health insurance, when my family needed something I could pay for it. When I was 58 years old in 2016, it all collapsed. It had started to collapse five years before, in 2011 when I was 53. My wife insisted on couple's counseling, and each of the several counselors we saw told me that I had too much going on myself yo be effective in couples counseling without first graplling with individial counseling. It turns out, from the age of 2.5 years I was beaten, viscously and regularly, but my father who would have been about 28 years told at the time. He was a timekeeper at Domino Sugar in Brooklyn when I was born (it's on my borth certificate) and got a job as a police offic