I’m at a crisis point, ọzọ.
I’m not coping. Most “Westerners” in developed countries who are intelligent, educated, and/or compassionate should be able to quickly understand that statement. Otú o sina, I would be astounded if more than four readers had even a passing understanding of what I mean why I say, “I’m not coping.” N'ezie, I would be impressed if more
M ga-n'ihu ọsọ ọsọ ụgbọ ala?
Now that Game of Thrones is over, you should ensure that your favorite reality entertainment doesn’t end before you are ready
I have curable illness. M enweghị ebe obibi. I want to work but I can’t. I’m in pain every day. I can’t get enough support to mitigate the pain. I can’t get enough support to end my homelessness. I can’t get enough support to cure my illness. I’ve asked for help for six years, but I can’t
The cycle continues.
Ọ dịghị ego. What am I supposed to do?
Suicide prevention is a fraud.
Supporting my recovery is less expensive than supporting my suffering.
M na-akwụ ụgwọ ndị ọzọ n'ihi na nke a ofe karịa m na-akwụ ụgwọ maka ihe ọ bụla nri, ma anọghị m ike iri ya.