As time went on, I continued to stay with family, friends, and in my car. Living with family and friends can only go so far. At this point, even the closest people do not need to see depression and drinking (D&D) increase. Fact is, they will distance themselves from you. A common statement I would hear was, “We would like to see the person we knew 3 years ago.” Hell, I wanted to be the old me.

As you experience D&D, you become numb to how actions affect others. This period becomes dangerous and disgusting.

See: The Real People you Read About

With no job in sight, I decided to move out west. The objective was to change the environment, be positive and respect myself. My friend and supporter, Jim Goodman, in LaFayette, who had been a car mechanic and restaurant contractor, put money and his personal labor into the car so it could travel west. Family in Salt City and Long Lake, Jane and Greg Sellers, gave me money, food cards, and gas cards.

Note: By this time your supporters have decreased. In my situation, it was down by 1/3. These people may not have faith in you because they are burned out by YOUR UNKEPT PROMISES.

It was during this trip that I came across many good people. I drove constantly until I knew it could be dangerous. I would sleep in the car and move on. The more I drove, the more I felt like the old me.

Note: We must realize that we may never be “the old me.”

I stopped all the meds I had been prescribed since 2008. By the Rockies, I stopped to watch TV, sleep, and have some wine. I failed to remember what Llz Garrission, Mike Garrison’s wife had told me–never stop meds cold turkey–not even those you are addicted to. The effect on the mind and body is extremely dangerous. Of course, I was the old me.

The mood swings got a hold of me in a big way; I was constantly scared, hallucinating, and paranoid. I needed alcohol to mask the pain. It was a disaster.

Note: Remember, this is not just a flaw in your environment, character, or genetic background. The flaw could be one or all three. BUT, in a majority of cases, you cannot handle it. The normal comments like, “You’re just making an excuse; you’re hurtful to those who love you; you can control all those urges,“ Just put another nail in your brain.

I admitted defeat, as I saw it, and left the west coast.

For me, it was at this point I remembered all the good things I did and had. The past and positive activities such as:

• looking at others as being good unless they hurt me or ones I loved.
• going to the nearby big city, Leoardville and moving a 19-year-old girl out of a cocaine house. I was asked to do this by her parents because they knew I could defend myself and others. The daughter was physically hurt due to an accident while using cocaine and was not able to fend for herself.
• organizing 10 families, in the upscale town of Wildboro, to deliver brunch and dinners as the family mended.
• organizing a Network Group, from 5 people, to over a 125 professionals covering 14 states. The goals were to get jobs and save families. It also reconnected people after years of disconnect. I had NO pay and NO personal gain. The Group started in 2000 but diminished in 2012 due to social media, such as linkedin.
• belonging to the charity clubs and volunteering time to feed the elderly, while building high-tech organizations and raising the family.

Yet here I was. How this happened just drains the brain. Especially when thinking about that family I helped (as well as others) but they never came to my aid. Why? Alcohol’s Effect on Your Brain

Note: Reader, this is a form of self pity that is just as dangerous as D&D. I failed, at that time, to see how many were helping me!

I started driving to Nipmack so I could go to the nearest shelter for the night. When I hit the line of one of the towns along the way, I was pulled over by the Nipmack police for an overdue registration. My car was towed with all I needed to survive. I had just enough money for a room at the motel–a hooker hotel for truckers. One nice girl drove me to the store and helped buy me wine. I was mentally crushed, alone (yes, no woman) and scared. I woke up as sick as a dog. I had to know WHY. I called my friend, Mike Garrison. He paid the tow bill, and I got my stuff. I told him, “I need to commit myself and find out why.” He said, “It is about time”. We were off.

This is when I began my journal. It was June 28th, 2013.

Note: Within five years, I went broke and lost everything. It is at this point, you need to take what I’m writing very seriously. The next year I describe will tell you that this path is common. That all the kids and adults will experience a similar hell. If you laugh, you are close to lost!  These events are in my journal as well as descriptions of the systems, businesses, and organizations that try to help. I also will provide you with tested clinical information. Sex, addiction, fighting, death, prejudice, and bad people will cross your path.

Please read: An Event that Haunts Me