Stripped of My Safety Net
Language: en
For the first three years after I was diagnosed with severe clinical depression, Ethan was the absolute only reason I managed to stay alive. He systematically went through our apartment and removed every single sharp object. He had heavy-duty safety netting installed across the balcony. When I took a shower, he insisted on leaving the bathroom door cracked open. “Take your time. I’ll wait for you to get better.” That was, until Chloe moved back from Europe. She had just finished a master's program in psychology. The second she saw our apartment, she told Ethan his approach was actively…