The first breath after the fall doesn't feel like a miracle. It feels like theft. Survival isn't noble-it's jagged, brutal, and haunted by every ghost you tried to bury.
In this searing memoir, Christopher Carazas takes us inside the silence after collapse: years of abuse, the weaponization of his autism, and the knife-edge moments where he nearly gave up for good. What follows isn't tidy redemption-it's the unglamorous grind of clawing back breath, love, and identity.
Told with haunting honesty and lyrical force, Now That I'm Still Here is more than a survival story. It's a lifeline. A reminder that even when the dark whispers you're too much, your breath is still enough.