Julie Botsay Jacobson
Stories (3/0)
What it is like to live with Major Depression
Five years old – that’s the first time I remember thinking that if I wasn’t around then everyone would be happier and better off. I remember seeing the commercials asking people to “adopt” one of the starving children in Africa and I felt, no, I knew deep in my soul that it was somehow MY fault that those children were starving. I remember thinking that if I ran away, then any problems my parents had would be gone. As I grew older, running away morphed into killing myself. Those starving kids in Africa, well, they were still somehow my fault and any problems my parents had were still my fault. If my parents were struggling financially or couldn’t afford something that my sister or I wanted, I just knew that if I hadn’t been born, then none of that would have been a problem. I never told my parents how I felt. I never told anyone. I didn’t want to hurt anyone by telling them. I never told anyone about my suicide attempts. I knew that no one would understand just what it is like to live with and battle Major Depression.
By Julie Botsay Jacobson3 years ago in Psyche
Shattered Dreams
Henrietta October sipped her fourth vodka, hoping to dull the pain from her sunburnt shoulders and back, as she waited for Kyle to answer the telephone. Deep in the back of her mind came the nagging thought, once again, that she shouldn't be calling him, but the effects of the first three vodkas had dulled her self-control. Just as she was about to hang up the telephone, she heard someone pick up and the unmistakable sound of Louann's voice answer.
By Julie Botsay Jacobson3 years ago in Humans
Just What They Needed
It had been a long and tiring day. Matthew was worn out and drained of energy as he entered the house. He heard the radio playing softly and the mix of humming and water running coming from the kitchen. As he entered the kitchen, he saw her, standing at the sink with her back to him, washing dishes. She didn’t appear to have heard him come home. The sight of Annabelle seemed to instantly revive him and turn him on. He knew he needed to have her right then and there. He crept up behind her and lovingly wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and whispering in her ear, “I’m home, my love.”
By Julie Botsay Jacobson3 years ago in Filthy