You can’t always pinpoint the precise moment that your life goes wrong. Most of the time it creeps up on you, year by year, moment by moment, until one day you look around and realize you’re so far from who you used to be you don’t even feel like the same person. It’s usually a gradual collapse, sneaking; a stone there, a pebble here. A slow erosion of who you are, bit by bit, piece by piece.

But other times you can say exactly when it was your life fell apart. When all your carefully placed cards tumbled down, and your house collapsed, and you knew in that moment nothing was ever going to be the same again. In that moment, you weren’t sure if you would even survive, or be pulled under forever. But you did. Somehow.