SO true in what you say, money is the driver in many things in this world.
I learnt from a VERY YOUNG AGE preschool I'm talking that I know the Pharm.drugs well also. See there was a time when my own mother used to give us pills to keep us quiet (she was a self medicating Bi-Polar) so it wasn't uncommon to get a yellow or blue pill to keep us calm. So when the life got rough I'd go to the stashes of pills and take one, I soon learnt life was better and home was ok. I basically moved out when I was 10 living as much time with my older brother. But still under the eyes of the mother and home was the ruling word. By the time 16 rolled around I was in labour camps on the railway working and living the dream. Major industrial accident at 18 where I blew most of the right hand apart-huge amounts of drugs-no counselling on what or how all the surgeries and the PTSD effects a young person.
Partied hard for a decade took anything regardless of what it was and shot it up when I was able to, drank it if it made me feel good.
25 surgeries that have required painkillers, a huge case of operating on me in /80 not checking the lungs. Got really sick where the lungs filled up, having the flue/double pneumonia/coming off a party of 4 months straight. I kicked the crap out of the emergency at the hospital and woke from a chemically induced coma 4 days later, spent 30+ days in the hospital and looked at a 14K bill for my black out, down to 137lbs from 185lbs at 6'3" I was dying, no will to live.
They had me pumped with drugs that 13-20 letters long, and after a few months I asked my family DR. "How do I wipe my ass?" (no BS here) that's how messed up I was. Under an agreement they would wave the 14K with an apology and an order to attend a metal health meeting with a shrink once a month. More drugs.
I sat one time in the waiting room for over two hrs-got frustrated and walked out and got in the car with my father. Driving home he told me of a story of himself and some drug that the Dr. gave him one time. He said he dropped them them in the lake at work then threw the rest down the outhouse hole. Never looked back after that day. I don't know if was true or just his way of telling me to do the same, but I flushed and flushed till they all went down the drain.
It took a good part of a year to recover, swam, walked my king shepherd everyday, I did restore an old kitchen clock that had 20 coats of paint on it, so thick where I didn't even know there was scroll work on the clock. Here's a pic of the restored working clock nomad 11, it just reminds me life is good, and has been for a whole lot of years.
Sorry for my ramblings, but I feel it's also important to share so others understand things. It's amazing what others have done, the knowledge folks share here, the good and the struggles we all face. I'm never embarrassed in talking about the struggles in life, nor the good times either. I believe it keeps of the chest, the heart can beat freely, as if one keeps acorn on it all someday something has to give.
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