I’m unsure if this is where I’m supposed to be telling my story. Generally the comments section won’t allow me to because of the space. My story is still playing out every day when I open my eyes. It began June 21st 1972 when my mother gave birth to me. There were 3 other children of hers who’s father she was married to. He was an alcoholic to the worst extreme, my mother and children lived in fear due to the beatings and sinister acts that were to follow. Anything from foul language, severe beatings,& being used for target practice while he would shoot his gun at them inside the house. As a newborn child it was instilled in me to be comfortable quiet so we were not found. At the age of 8 I was diagnosed with a stomach ulcer and bleeding colitis just to name 2. The root cause being from stress. The original 3 children were 10yr and above me. They were all already gone when my mother got divorced and her and I lived in her car until she could get an apartment. It had 2 bedrooms and for a couple weeks this 12year old thought things were taking a turn for the better. But the middle child of the original 3 was a Cloan if not worse than his father. He had gotten married and moved in with his new wife and into my room. The beatings and abuse that the other 3 had sustained came to me. To the point that I would be kept home from school. One time that I was kept home due to the severity of the damage, I was hit by a car while riding my bike. The Police Officer called for an ambulance and when they arrived they had to break it to him that what he called them for didn’t happen from the accident. When he drove me home, he was was thanked and told it was a family matter. That was just one instance. It was happening so often that I knew the officers by name. Until I finally decades later fought back. I Married and moved just far enough that if needed I could be there for my mother in no time. My addiction is helping save the world & forgetting about myself. My wife was my cocktail waitress when I was playing blackjack at a local casino. She was absolutely gorgeous, I spent the night at her house and it was the first time in my life that I slept through the night. My life was finally getting on track and it would be alright. But after we married I saw a completely different side of her. She drank a half gallon of vodka every other day. Her father and his brother died at a young age due to cirrhosis of the liver. I drink myself occasionally at Concerts, Vacations, & Celebrations that’s about it. In 2013 we were fortunate enough to go on a cruise to Bermuda alcohol included. When we were deboarding we were able to rebook the following week for about free. When we came home from cruise #2 we had a trip to Vegas booked 3days out & tickets to Jimmy Buffett & third row for Garth Brooks. She even got to sing with him. It was unbelievable,he only sings with his wife now he’s singing with mine. When we got home her Liver couldn’t keep up with her and she barely lived. That was in 2013 she stopped drinking for 1yr to attempt to get on the donor list. Her liver recovered so well she didn’t need to be on the list anymore. Then it was a nonstop back and forth between the hospital and home. Falling into comas and not being able to speak. I came to learn that it wasn’t just alcohol she was eating pain pills as fast as she could find them. Then after 74 months I made the mistake of having an after dinner drink. I remember telling the bartender/waitress to water it down and I wasn’t there for drinks. BTW I’m an over tipper so that may have been why. That was at 8:30pm the next memory was me being held down in the emergency room. Because I took my car a “2005 Corvette” and played Chicken With A Freight Train. She was living with her pill dealer an ex boyfriend and thought they were coming to ID the body. I was constantly trying to save her from herself and work until I had enough money for an attorney to get divorced. Now September 10,2019 my friend calls me and says it is his birthday and wants to go out riding with our motorcycles. The last memory I had was watching the garage door close then it was the end of October and I was sitting on the Las Vegas Strip with my cousins eating dinner. There as road construction that had been moved and not marked that I had hit the cement barricade. The emts told the witness I was DOA but they had a helicopter come for me and take me to the University of Chicago. I learned as time went on that my number the first responders use to gauge what they have to do with you. I should of been dead. Nobody comes back from those numbers. After being released from hospital number 2 my phone rang and it was from a different hospital wanting me to sign off that my wife wasn’t going to receive any more medical care. I guess I went there and argued it out with them. I have no memory of it. She Opened Her Eyes Once Again and was speaking a little. I had to get her transferred to a nursing home then she went to her mothers due to my physical condition from the motorcycle wreck. She Died New Years Day 2020 last words she spoke to me were “I Don’t Want To Die”.
Less than 7days later I was in my garage cleaning trying to occupy my mind when it caught fire and burned to the ground taking half my house ,My Rebuilt Motorcycle, and whatever got in it’s way with it. Of course I called the insurance who informed me that I didn’t live in the home any longer that my wife had told them we were Divorced and I moved out. That took until Mid July 2020 to prove that I was who I said I was. Just another thing to add to being married to someone who is an alcoholic & addict who you’re trying to save but enabling. The world was introduced to Covid in 2020 , for me that was just an add on and something secretly hoping to get and put an end to my story. I don’t know exactly how I learned of “Demons Behind Me” perhaps “Demons Behind Me” found me. Either way I get to see it and be reminded Daily By My Tattoo On My Shoulder. When I’m reliving the past and thinking about joining all the people that I Love and have lost, I just have to look at my shoulder.