Well, the final straw was when a number of them made me homeless, and the rest were either too busy or too emotionally burdened to help right now.

So after losing all my possessions, losing my job, being homeless for nearly a year, getting the shit kicked out of me regularly by fentanyl addicts uh... well, I should not have survived.

But despite nearly being killed more times than I can count, being held hostage by madman (who the police held for 30 days and then let loose), and witnessing a number of people I'd met along the way die...

It was not exactly easy.

But, by basically dumb luck, I survived.

And, being alive, having not only hit rock bottom, but having been dragged and kicked along its jagged ground... well, now I am free.

It is only after you lose everything, that you are free to do anything.

And for me, that means not having to deal with anyone while I do a whole lot of PT on disability.

Also, I now have a great deal of self confidence, as I am 100% certain any of those dumbfucks would have died going through a tenth of what I went through, yet I persist.