When my youngest son Darby was killed at the age of 10, back in 2008. I lost my will to live. After many failed, yet serious, suicide attempts, I began to drink myself into complete blackouts on a daily basis. Nevertheless, that lead me to "jails, institutions, not death"..crap! So when I finally got the hell into my moms house, I still couldn't appreciate anything. I drank there, even though it was agreed that no alcohol consumption by me was allowed. So.. I got thrown out to the streets. Didn't matter because now I could drink my days away without concern. Boy was I dead wrong.
Please stay tuned for more of my road to homelessness.
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