’16-’17 was a tough year🙄
From being dead broke recently divorced and packing up what little life I had left and blindly moving to New York…
To battling homelessness, heartbreak, extreme social anxiety & a complete fear and paranoia that everyone was out to destroy me…
And finally relocating to a small town, starting a career at a job I love, being financially stable and falling in love…
From the end of 2016 to a year later in ending in late 2017 life seemed to throw just about every curve ball possible at me.
It started going downhill in Spring of 2016 as I struggled to understand my transition and where I wanted my new life to go I watched my marriage fall apart and what I that was my life explode. Not to mention the affair and jail time the year prior still causing me an extreme amount of stress.
Between my confusion in my transition and basically having my life turned upside down I began wanting to run. Run away from my problems. Run away from my mistakes. Run away from myself. So I did. I started running, or at least trying.
Found myself leaving my home renting a room in a area of town where know one knew my name, closing off from the world, barely even seen by my roommates but I didn’t seem to be escaping from what ever I was running from. So I ran farther. I ended up it Texas. Houston I believe. Paying weekly in hotel rooms, doing temp work, doing an assortment of drugs & trying to forget who I was/I am.
Eventually I ran out of money and mental strength to deal with people. By this time I believe I started to slip into depression. I still felt my demons on my shoulders, like I hadn’t ran at all. So I figure if I’m going to be broke, homeless and depressed I might as well go back to where it all started. Plus Texas is fucking stupid.
So somehow up I ended back in New Orleans, Metairie to be technical. A young broken man on the verge of a self destructive path. Fortunately I was taken in by my gay mother that had adopted me a few years prior. She tried her best to help me stand but mentally I was a complete fucking mess. And seemed like the more she tried to help the more it reminded me that my life used to be so great and it was completely falling apart all around me and there was nothing I could do about it only made me worse.
I went from being at depression’s doorstep to being hurled through the front door. Shit was bad. I mean like REALLY bad. Almost ended up in a psych hospital..
*Takes bong rip
Reaching my breaking point and still wanting to run away from it all, when the opportunity came for me to be able to run away 13000 miles away I took it.
Packed what I had left which ended up being a army duffle bag and 2 book bags and headed to the Greyhound station. I had no money in my pockets but I know if I didn’t do this and let my soul fly I would never get better & I might never figure out what I wanted to be in life.
“…But Son, what makes you happy?..”
You can read my blogs from my 26hr Greyhound bus trip from New Orleans to New York in my “Road Trip” section of my blog. 😊
Of course with no money in my pockets and not knowing anyone in NYC I ended up in the shelter system for the first few months and then renting rooms and eventually back in the shelter system. Seemed like everything was still going wrong. Getting lost. Being Robbed. Freezing temperatures. Injured at work. Losing my wallet. Getting played.
But I felt like I had some how found what I was running to. I thought I was running FROM my problems but I was actually running to my life. My new life. The life my soul was searching for. Even with all the shitty stuff that was still happening I was happy. I felt like I made a decision that made me happy. Of course it wasn’t all shits and giggles and sparkles at first or for the first 6 months. There was times I wanted to give up but I refuse to just go home where I had found what I almost died searching for. So I stuck it out and eventually….