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    2017-04-21 07:00
    &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t even start gambling until I was 43. I thought I was mature, but I was as vulnerable as a child. I started going to the casino once or twice on the weekends. It was a social thing. I&rsquo;d just play cards with my friends. But I had good luck in the beginning. I started to win. And I started to love it. I couldn&rsquo;t wait for the weekend. Soon I started to go during the week. I&rsquo;d work the early shift and I&rsquo;d have all afternoon to play. I abandoned all my responsibilities. Once you start playing&ndash; you forget that you&rsquo;re hungry, you forget that you&rsquo;re thirsty, you even forget that you have a family. I lost the grocery money, the rent money, everything. Winning felt great. And losing made me need to win. I&rsquo;d make up excuses every time I came home empty handed. I&rsquo;d say that I was mugged, or that my work hadn&rsquo;t paid us that week. Eventually I had to sell my car. I lost our house. I lost my wife. We&rsquo;d been together for twenty years. I just took for granted that she&rsquo;d always be around. The only thing that I didn&rsquo;t lose was my daughters. They sat me down one day, and said: &lsquo;Dad, either quit gambling, or quit this house.&rsquo; And I never played again.&rdquo; <br><br>(Medellín, Colombia) <br>
    2017-04-21 04:00
    &ldquo;Sometimes I&rsquo;d start crying in class for no reason. Then when I got home from school, I&rsquo;d just go straight to my room. I couldn&rsquo;t even talk to my mom about it because I&rsquo;d just start crying. People would tell me: &lsquo;Just get up, exercise, and take a walk.&rsquo; But none of that helped. Things got so bad that even the school was watching me. I started bawling during a chemistry exam and I ended up in the school psychologist office. I remember thinking: &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care if I ever see another chemistry exam again. Or my friends. Or my mom.&rsquo; And I started to get this feeling that I was definitely going to do it. I was going to lock myself in my room that night and take a bunch of pills. The only thing that stopped me was imagining my mom finding my body. That was three years ago. That time seems so far away now. I found a great therapist. I learned so much about myself. There&rsquo;s so much that I want to do now. I want to travel. I want to get married. I want to have kids. There are so many poems that I haven&rsquo;t written and songs I haven&rsquo;t heard. So it&rsquo;s terrifying for me to think that I came so close. My problems were small back then. They were teenage problems. But I came one step away from not being. And I had made the decision to take that step. I&rsquo;m afraid that I can go back to that place again. And next time, my problems will probably not be so small.&rdquo;<br><br>(Bogotá, Colombia) <br>
    2017-04-19 11:00
    &ldquo;I do yoga at the senior center. But it&rsquo;s not advanced enough for me. I can do the cat, the dog, the bridge, the snake&hellip; all of it. My class is filled with younger people in their sixties and seventies. They are always complaining: &lsquo;My hip! My diabetes!&rsquo; But you&rsquo;ll never hear a word out of me.&rdquo; <br><br>(Medellín, Colombia) <br>
    2017-04-19 11:00
    &ldquo;I was the best student in my high school. I put so much pressure on myself. I never failed a class. But I got sick during 10th grade and I started to fall behind. That&rsquo;s when the panic attacks began. One day the teacher handed me my grade report, and I couldn&rsquo;t breathe. My heart was beating very fast. I felt disconnected. I saw people trying to talk to me but I couldn&rsquo;t hear them. Eventually I passed out and woke up in the infirmary. The attacks were almost daily after that. Last year I started college. And I can&rsquo;t be the best student here no matter how hard I try. Everyone is so talented. My panic attacks got so bad that I had to cancel my first semester. But now I&rsquo;m working on acknowledging my anxiety. I used to try to hide it. I would log off social media. I wouldn&rsquo;t answer calls. I thought that if nobody knew, it didn&rsquo;t exist. But the more I talk about my problem, the more I realize that other people experience similar things. So I&rsquo;m trying to express it more. I had a great teacher who told me: &lsquo;Instead of letting anxiety keep you from doing your art, let it be the thing that motivates your art.&rsquo;&rdquo; <br><br>(Bogotá, Colombia) <br>
    2017-04-19 11:00
    &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been sitting here for four hours thinking about what I should do. I don&rsquo;t want to go home. I fucked up again. I&rsquo;ve been a drug addict my whole life. But I was clean for three months. I got a job at a call center. I was doing well. Then as soon as I got my paycheck, I went out drinking with some coworkers. Just a normal thing. But then I tried a little coke, went on a binge, and lost my job. Same story as always. And now I don&rsquo;t want to go home. I live with my mother. She&rsquo;s never lost faith in me. My brother was killed in the army so I&rsquo;m her only son. She doesn&rsquo;t deserve this. She was so happy that I had a job. She&rsquo;d convinced herself that things were finally going to be OK. And I&rsquo;ve got to go home and tell her what happened. And I don&rsquo;t want to do it. She&rsquo;s not even going to be mad. She&rsquo;ll just be so hurt. Then she&rsquo;ll ask me if I&rsquo;ve eaten.&rdquo; <br><br>(Bogotá, Colombia) <br>
    2017-04-19 11:00
    &ldquo;I met him at the company where we worked. We went out dancing. He was kind to me. Things started changing after we got married. I&rsquo;d rush home from work so I could cook for the whole family. But if the food wasn&rsquo;t ready on time, he&rsquo;d get upset. One day his mistress came to the door to tell me about their affair. I was pregnant at the time. He came back from work and found her in the house, and he hit me so hard that he broke my face. I still have the scars. The abuse got worse and worse. I stayed for a long time. At first I thought marriages were supposed to be like that. And by the time I learned otherwise, he wouldn&rsquo;t let me go. He&rsquo;d lock me in the house. He&rsquo;d threaten me by putting a gun to our son&rsquo;s head. When I finally got a restraining order, I was in such bad shape that I checked into a mental institution. Now I&rsquo;m alone and it&rsquo;s the happiest time of my life. I&rsquo;m able to work. I can eat whatever I want. I can go out whenever I want. Even sitting here and smoking a cigarette is a joy for me.&rdquo;<br><br>(Bogotá, Colombia) <br>
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