Lies, Sex, And Pills: The untold Story of Brè Howard

Count your blessings

For a long time I blamed myself for a lot of things that happened. Once I was able to actually hold a decent conversation with someone. The first person that wanted to talk to me of course was my mom, and her only question was "why did I do something this crazy?" Well, I'm guessing she and well everyone can finally get the answer they have been looking for. To answer the question of why I would have to open up about something that will break me down all the way. It will tear me to pieces because no one ever knew how I really felt about this situation but me and the other person. I take you back almost six years ago to the month of July, and he was closer to me than I thought. Robert and I was always arguing. It amazes me that even now I can remember the petty little things we argued about, and how we would always end up back cool. When Wayne got killed it did something to me, and I mean I still to this day can't forgive myself. I always had resentment towards my father because he wouldn't let me grieve how I wanted to. I couldn't show any kind of emotion, and it hurt because I wanted to. As I looked back on the things that I went through for example being in foster care for part of my life, to dealing with depression and now this.  Even though this wasn't my first time trying this, but I think all my demons had finally caught up to me. So I'm saying all this to say; to answer your question mom there is no correct answer, but I can say that I needed for you and everyone else to hear my cry out for help because I needed it more than anything. I had to remember though that every little blessing disk that compare to the one that I could have ever counted on which was being alive.