as you plead ptsd over the entry above i would like to share with you some of my experiences. this is the tip of iceberg.

i was with my father when he died horribly. his last words to me, to anyone, were 'it's hard.'

i heard the shot and ran out onto the country road. my brother bob had been shot with a .357 magnum. i could tell he was dead. i lifted him up. his chest was caved in completely.

my brother adam committed suicide by heroin overdose at my grandmother's apartment in dc, where i had been going since i was a child. where my father grew up. she herself died there 4 days later.

 

i'm not asking for pity. i'm saying stuff like this freed me to do what i am doing here.