So I was rummaging through my wallet and I came across this piece of paper. I wrote this on December 12, 2013. Little did I know at the time I would be kicked out of the homeless shelter I was occupying 5 hours later, and the start of my "street days" as I call them began. I titled this, 'My Secrets' Secrets'

I met this city by walking it's streets. It gets cold at night when you have nowhere to go. Nowhere to go leads to nowhere good. Dirty needles surround my feet, while the only halfway clean one is in my arm. How did this polite young boy who was raised to be a gentleman get this low in the world, this deep ? When the sun rises in the morning but all you see is darkness, have you sunk too low ? Am I too low ? The snow flickers in the street lights as my vision statics out like an old television set. Am I overdosing or do I just need to sit down ? Lately, I cant tell the difference. Sometimes I get so tired that I pray for an overdose just so I can close my eyes and rest. Something has to give. Something has to change. A house to live in for 6 days is not a home because it had a welcome mat. The mat read 'Home Sweet Home'  but I read it, 'You Have No Home'. If these clothes could talk, they'd tell my darkest secrets. That I'm alone. That I'm scared. That I don't know who to turn to. Good thing these clothes have holes and my secrets have all fallen out. I have so many secrets, my secrets have secrets. So don't tell me I can't keep a secret.

I wrote that on a crumpled up piece of paper that I found in a basement I was squatting in. I thank my Higher Power on a daily basis for not living that way anymore. Through my pain and suffering I am able to help others today find hope. If this drug addict can do it, so can anyone.

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE