I’ve hit rock bottom twice.
The first time was when I got kicked out of the Army for drugs. They sent me home on a greyhound bus. My dad didn’t even smile at me when I came home. I think he thought I was gonna be laced out on drugs. The bus ride was definitely interesting. I was wallowing in self pity. A homeless man got on the bus for one stop. He literally told me a hundred different ways to make ramen. It’s funny looking back. When I was feeling real down a truck driver came along beside the bus. He was missing a top and bottom tooth exactly aligned. He made a funny face that cheered me up a bit.
My second time hitting rock bottom was when I had my first break. I was homeless, psychotic and didn’t know what to do. That caused me to keep going to hospitals. I was probably in 8 different hospitals over the course of a week or two. They would either release me or I’d escape. The temp outside was probably 100. I only had socks on most of the time. It was also very difficult being away from my kids the first time in their life.
Tough times make tough people.
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