Tag Archives: Mental Health


I went into Kidney Failure again, I should’ve recognized the signs but didn’t. All they could do is get rid of the excess fluid backed up in my one good kidney. They couldn’t do much else because I’m too sick to operate on right now. They sent me home late yesterday.

My white blood cell count and red blood cell count are both down, my blood pressure is would suggest I’m already dead, my temperature was 100 degrees but is now staying at 94 degrees. I have a headache that would make a Super Hero cry, I can’t even tell you about my sinuses and phlegm problem because I still hope to have at least 1 date before I die.

As usual I couldn’t reach my twin sister to tell her I was in the ICU. My Dad is also sick right now so he couldn’t be with me. She did text me back eventually. After I got out of the Hospital.

I haven’t talked out loud to anyone very much in the last year. My Dad is usually miserable and I’m afraid I’ll set him off. My twin sister doesn’t answer her phone but will sometimes send me a text. I told her today that I’m having trouble with the loneliness, I’m talking to myself, Dad’s yelling at me constantly and it would be nice to just talk about current events or TV shows we both watch because it’s bad.

She sent me a text 3 hours later that she “had” to nap a lot today but she “might” give me a call later.

I’m really feeling done.

When I mentioned I might spend 6 months to a year in Florida with my Aunt all of a sudden my Dad says he has no money and needs more money from me for bills. I’ve given him $2,000 in the last month and a half. There went the money I was going to use towards my lease/rental. I know it’s on purpose and he has money.

No one wants to be around me, no one wants to talk to me, but they don’t want me to leave.

My entire life they never had a problem leaving me behind. In many different ways. Physically and emotionally.

I’m always watching from behind trying to catch up, trying to belong, jumping up and down whispering “pick me, pick me”, they never have and after this long I don’t think they ever will. loneliness-wide



The Above Ground Charity Event is being presented by Dave Navarro and Billy Morrison in partnership with Revolver Gallery. The event is to raise awareness and funds for the treatment of mental health. Two iconic albums will be played in their entirety with an all star band and special guests. The event takes place at The Belasco Theater 1050 S. Hill St. Los Angeles, CA, Monday April 16th. Tickets are on sale now from ticketmaster and livenation. Proceeds donated to MusiCares.

This is an event I would love to attend. I’m just not sure it’s a good idea. My physical health isn’t the greatest but I could also feel worse because of my environment. I have flown to California alone before but I’ve never spent time alone there. It’s a decision making time and I’m not good at decisions. lol


Roughly 50% of people with a severe mental illness are also affected by substance abuse.

What is considered “severe mental illness”?

  • Bipolar Disorder
  • Schizophrenia
  • Major Depressive Disorder
  • Borderline Personality Disorder
  • Social Anxiety Disorder
  • Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

Mental Illness is caused by a combination of genetics (your family history), your environment, and other outside factors.

37% of alcohol abusers and 53% of drug abusers also have at least one serious mental illness.

Alcohol and drug abuse are often used to self-medicate the symptoms of mental health problems that have gone undiagnosed. In the long term this worsens symptoms.

Evidence shows that people who abuse opioid painkillers are at greater risk of depression and marijuana users have an increased risk of psychosis.

Alcohol abuse increases the symptoms of mental illness or even triggers new symptoms, it also makes antidepressants, anti-anxiety medications, and mood stabilizers less effective.


  • Do you use alcohol or drugs to cope with unpleasant memories or feelings, to control pain or the intensity of your moods, to face situations that frighten you, or to stay focused on tasks?
  • Have you noticed a relationship between your substance abuse and your mental health? EX: Do you get depressed when you drink?
  • Has someone in your family struggled with either a mental illness or alcohol/drug abuse?
  • Do you feel depressed or anxious even when you’re sober?
  • Do you have unresolved trauma or a history of abuse?
  • Do you ever feel guilty or ashamed about your alcohol/drug use?
  • Have you ever blacked out?
  • Has your alcohol/drug use gotten you into trouble with the law?
  • Has your alcohol/drug use caused problems with your friends/family?


When looking for treatment make sure the program is licensed,  accredited and has  experience with your particular mental health issue.

The treatment addresses both substance abuse and mental health.

You share in the decision making process and are actively involved in the strategies used to help you cope with challenges and stress. It’s a waste of everyone’s time if you’re not going to do what’s suggested because you have trouble concentrating or memory issues. These things have to be shared and talked about so a program can be tailored to your specific needs.

I realize when I look at something in chart form or statistics I think it looks simple. Nothing is simple when it comes to mental health and addiction. If it was simple we wouldn’t have so many people dying.

Society is worried about gun violence when Suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death among 15-34 year olds. It’s 3rd among 10-14 year olds and the 10th leading cause of death overall.

There were 47,193 Suicides last year compared to 17,793 Homicides. I think the focus is on the wrong subject.



When I hear people use words like “sicko”, “deranged”, “nut job” or other hurtful slang words to describe a person with a mental illness I cringe inside.

When I hear or read those words coming from the President of The United States I wonder if realizes or cares about the harm he’s doing and the added stigma he’s creating.

People who are diagnosed with a mental illness are not “monsters” to be feared or taken off the streets and institutionalized.

This is a fact, people with mental illness have more violence done to them than any other group in the United States.

40% of women with a mental illness have been raped or sexually assaulted in their lifetime. 

Our answer to this is to make them feel worse about themselves? More ostracized? More frightened by society than they already are?

I find it disgusting.

If you’ve never had the chance to see the inside of a State run institution I suggest you check yourself in for a few days and let me know what you think. That is if they release you. If you lived in Rhode Island from 1950-1997 chances are you were put in an over crowded facility where you slept in a chair, on a table, or a floor. Look up just how many Pauper’s graves were found on the grounds of this lovely institution. Hundreds of thousands of unidentified human beings that were treated like animals.

You might ask how I know this for sure. My Grandmother was a Nurse there. She should’ve been a patient. My Uncle, her son, actually was a patient for a few years. How anyone could do that to their own child I’ll never know. I’m not too surprised because she later abandoned all 7 of them without a place to live. They lived in a chicken coop for some time.

You can look it up. It was called the Howard Center and the IMH in Cranston, Rhode Island. The newer facilities are not much better.

It’s difficult enough when people find out you’ve been diagnosed with Bipolar or Schizophrenia without the Government making it sound like we all want to kill or mame everyone we come into contact with.

I am part of that 40%. I have also been slapped, spit on, kicked, punched, thrown down stairs, had concussions, and other violence done against me. I thought I deserved it. I DON’T ANYMORE.

I’m not a doormat or a punching bag. I am a human being who is more sensitive than other people. I startle easily and I stutter when frightened or under stress. I love animals, my nephews, my dad, my twin sister, my brother, and I miss my mom more than anything in the world.

Am I capable of violence? I think the question should be who isn’t? Everyone has their breaking points. If someone was to hurt your child would you protect them with violence? I think most people would. Does this make you a “sicko”? No. It makes you human. Try to remember your humanity when you listen to or read whatever vile crap is being spewed by people in positions of power who don’t know when to be quiet.


Many people would not be able to stay sober without a 12 Step Program. I acknowledge this and accept it. I wish it went both ways. I have often been told that I “would never make it without a program”. I’ve been sober or in remission for over 9 years without a program. It isn’t for everyone.

I couldn’t handle being in a room filled with strangers and feeling their pain plus my own. I’m like a sponge that way. I also wasn’t hearing anyone say anything similar to my situation. No one admitted to drinking because they were afraid of meeting new people, afraid of talking to people, afraid to make friends, or just simply afraid.

No one admitted that at times they wanted to hurt themselves because they felt they didn’t belong anywhere. That they would look around a room and ask themselves “Why can’t I be like other people?” never feeling comfortable in their own skin. Or how much of a failure they felt like because the person that was born with them was able to do everything they couldn’t.

I can’t remember how many times I watched my twin sister and wondered if maybe there wasn’t a mistake made at the hospital. We were so different. Because we are twins people felt it was ok to comment on how different we were in front of us. I was always the fat, quiet one, she was always the thin, outgoing one. After years of hearing this it’s how you start to identify yourself too.

No one told stories of getting wasted and having sex with more than one guy in a night or waking up and not remembering if you had sex or not. There were no stories of hanging out with men who thought it was fun to make you cry or hit you. It was a group of men that for some reason wouldn’t let me go and I couldn’t get the courage to escape from for years. Some tried to help while others made things worse. Yes, I put myself in that situation because I thought I deserved it. I didn’t know I was sick or an alcoholic I just knew that at that time it was the best I could do. Secretly I hoped one of them would kill me and so I drank more.

There were no stories like that. I didn’t feel like I could tell them either. I needed a lot more help than a 12 Step Meeting could provide. I just didn’t know it yet. It would take several more years to figure it out.

Mental illness coupled with self-medicating is one of the hardest things in life you will ever go through. If you actually get through it I’m proud of you because it’s a Hell of journey and not many of us make it. It takes more than one or two relapses before you get it for some reason that’s just how it is. I’m here to say that if that happens don’t wast time beating yourself up. Ask yourself why? After that let it go and move forward. If you don’t you will keep repeating the same pattern.


Imagine you have had severe anxiety from a young age. You taught yourself not to make eye contact, to look at the ground while walking, used baggy clothes and long hair to try to be invisible. You felt more comfortable in long sleeved hoodies where you could pull sleeves over your hands because it made you feel safe. Imagine feeling nauseous 24/7 and throwing up or dry heaving daily. This started at 9 years old.

You discover something that makes it all go away. Alcohol. The thing is alcohol didn’t work on you the way it did on everyone else. Alcohol is usually a depressant but the majority of the times you drink you’re hyper, impulsive, talk fast, promiscuous, and stay up all night. You don’t think it’s odd because you don’t know anything else. But when the hardcore alcoholics you hang out with comment on it you start to wonder.

Eventually you aren’t the happy, hyper, drunk anymore. Events and circumstances change. Depression starts to creep in while you’re drinking. So does jealousy and anger. This leads to more negative events that change you dramatically.

When things get to a point where you’re given an ultimatum, a 12 Step Program or being homeless, you agree to the 12 Step Program. You shouldn’t have.

You had been to a few Psychiatrists who diagnosed you with Social Phobia/Social Anxiety Disorder and put you on medication that wasn’t exactly working.

You’re forced to meet a person you don’t know and agree to make her your Sponsor. She goes to meetings 3 times a day. The first meeting you have to go to is a large open meeting where everyone knew each other. There were about 70 people and believe me people noticed when I walked in.

When a thrust a person with Social Anxiety into a group setting where they don’t know anyone, they’re there for something they feel ashamed of, and they also have PTSD but haven’t been diagnosed yet, it isn’t a great experience.

When you then force that person to get up and speak in front of everyone it causes harm. I hated it, I never wanted to go back, I disliked the people, I disliked the several comments made when a few men noticed the scars on my wrists, I hated that they monitored what you could and could not say at an open meeting, I hated that my sponsor wanted me to go to 3 meetings a day while working 50 hours a week and taking care of my Mom who had been diagnosed with Lung Cancer. My sponsor’s response was “You found time to drink didn’t you?”

I didn’t drink like other people. I never drank during the day. I always drank from 4-5 pm to around 1 am on work night and later if I had the next day off. I never drank alone. I know this doesn’t matter, I’m still an alcoholic. But everyone is different in their patterns and behaviors.

The worse part were the comments about not really being “sober” if you’re on medication. I knew this was directed at me. Every meeting someone brought it up. How antidepressants were a crutch and a substitute for alcohol. I think I have permanent scars on the inside of my mouth from biting my cheeks and tongue.

I never felt like I could be honest at meetings. The stress was overwhelming. When my sponsor had us go to a meeting for a group of male convicts to speak that was it. I lost it. I told her I couldn’t do it. She told me I better get on my knees and pray because I bound to fail and go to Hell. When it comes to religion and anyone telling me I’m going to Hell or to pray it’s like waiving a red flag in front of a bull.

Things didn’t end well. I refused to put myself in a room where I might run into someone I used to drink with, someone who hurt me physically and mentally. I was right not to because there were 2 men in there that I did know. If they had seen me or I them I would’ve had a breakdown or worse.

People with mental illness and addiction have to be treated in a different way. 

I don’t believe a person with mental illness who is self medicating with drugs/alcohol should be thrown into a regular 12 step meeting. It isn’t going to work. We need more than that.

I’m more sensitive to the concept of shame. Shame actually had a lot to do with my failing to stay sober. When I was able to take shame out of the equation I was able to achieve sobriety. Too much importance is put on “How many days do you have?” or “What is your sober date?” First of all I have damage to my brain and don’t remember my sober date or how many days. 

Second, keeping track like that is setting yourself up for failure. Life isn’t about numbers unless you’re an accountant. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s what you’re intent was/is when you made them that matters.


I’m not a “Woman Of The World” that’s one of the problems but it is one of my favorite Aerosmith songs.

I’ve always been addicted to People, Places, and Things. This causes me to act irrationally and think irrationally. I know this yet I do it anyway.

I’m still being contacted by “Steven Tyler” who I know isn’t actually Steven Tyler. I don’t have that kind of luck. Nope. I get men who want to show me their glass eye by popping it out, men who choose to have an actual hook for a hand instead of a normal prosthetic, men who have tear drop tattoos under one eye and yes they have been incarcerated and also want me to pay their child support for them. I also attract other alcoholics/addicts, a lot of homeless men, many violent men, “musicians” and “tattoo artists” that don’t have studios or legal equipment and mostly do “prison style” tattoos. I would show you 2 of mine but one I had re-done and the other is in an area best left unseen. It’s a heart with wings.

Maybe I am a Woman Of The World. Just not your World. I’ll always look like I’m going to a concert. I can’t help it, well I can I just don’t want to. Love me or not that’s your problem.7706d56d2ba6d2837c4f649f8fe18580


I’ve said previously that I knew I was different from an early age and so did my parents. I think part of this had to do with being a twin. Having another child to compare me to plus my Mom’s own family history put a lot of doubts in their minds. I know this because both of my parents had admitted it at one time or another.

I started drinking when I first turned 17 if I remember correctly. It could’ve been earlier I’m not sure. When I first tried alcohol I realized the butterflies in my stomach went away, I could look people in the eye and have a conversation, I wasn’t constantly worried about saying the wrong thing, I wasn’t afraid to go places or to parties, I didn’t care if someone called me names or didn’t like me.

By the time I was 18 I was drinking daily. It was always at night and I never drank alone. It was however large quantities of alcohol. I was a big person. I was over 200 pounds and 5 foot 7 inches. I was drinking roughly a case of beer and a pint of hard liquor a night. I would usually start drinking between 4-5p.m. and stop whenever.

My behavior changed. The people I surrounded myself with didn’t help. I first tried to kill myself at 18 and because of my blood alcohol level I was court ordered to see a Psychiatrist who put me on Antidepressants. I’ve been on over 30 different types of medication since.

I was hospitalized twice in my late teens and early twenties. No diagnosis was made I was just given Antidepressants.

I’ve been court ordered several times to see different Psychiatrists and Therapists where again no diagnosis was ever made except one Doctor did diagnose Social Phobia and put me on more Antidepressants and Buspar.

For over 20 years I was on Antidepressants. The problem is they made things worse. They put a person with Bipolar Disorder on the wrong type of medications.

All of the medications prescribed to me make a person with Bipolar Disorder worse.

The two I was on the longest, Paxil and Prozac, actually cause manic-depression, euphoria, anxiety, panic attacks, impulsiveness, alcohol abuse, irritability, worsening depression, all precursors to emerging suicidality. The physical side effects are just as bad. Weight gain, high cholesterol, diabetes mellitus, bradycardia, vertigo, urinary hesitancy, urine retention, polyuria, urethritis, kidney calculus, blood in urine, Acute Renal Failure, ovarian cysts, ulcers, acute glaucoma, anemia, sinusitis, and early menopause.

The Doctors said my Kidney Failure was caused by a thickening of both ureters. This can happen with urine retention. You don’t feel the need to go so you don’t. Eventually it causes damage. I went into early menopause and no one can explain it, I’ve had ovarian cysts for years but they said that wasn’t cause. I also have acute glaucoma and sinusitis, vertigo, anemia, an irregular heartbeat and an ulcer. I did have diabetes mellitus but that seems to have went away since my kidneys failed.

It has been explained to me several times that because I was given so many of the wrong medications it is now impossible to treat my Bipolar Disorder. I have run out of options.

A new brain scan showed I have even less white and gray matter for a woman my age. It also suggests a traumatic brain injury at some time and not an in utero infection causing the swelling.

It was awkward answering the questions about that.

I never even thought being hit over the head with a heavy chair could’ve been the reason for anything. I was wrong.

When my Dad wanted to know what the new team of Doctors had said I wasn’t going to tell him the truth. But I did. It was a mistake. He became angry at me.

He said I had embarrassed him and made him look like a fool that night. He was embarrassed to have a drunk for a daughter. He couldn’t protect someone who was a liar and a drunk so he didn’t. He said he wasn’t to blame for my problems I had put myself in that situation years ago.

I was shocked, hurt, and angry. I said some things back to him and his final reply was “I’m glad J kicked your ass!”.

He just started taking Prednisone again and I’m hoping it was the steroids talking.

I find myself wanting to leave here more and more each day.


The fourth and final opinion about my mental health was given to me yesterday. I have over the last 7 years been to doctors with the best education, considered to be the best in their fields, the best reviewed by other patient’s, and I’ve even traveled to other states.

The new Doctor doing my assessment is a Psychiatrist and a Neurologist. She was able to get all of my records including my brain scan. I was surprised at this. She is connected to the Warren-Alpert Medical School and consulted with everyone in both departments before meeting with me. She had already observed my behavior and had the 2 hour interview I had done with the Counselor which included a detailed family history and my own history.

I’m not a genius but I know a lot about specific subjects. I’m quiet but observant. I’ve already said that I enjoy doing research.

She brought me into her office and had me sit down. She started off by saying “I think you already know what I’m going to say”. I started rocking saying “No, no,no,no,no,no,no” and crying because I did know what she was going to say.

When I looked up I noticed she was crying. For some reason that stopped me. No doctor had ever shown emotion about my mental health.

She said she was sorry there wasn’t anything she could do for me. The medications given to me in my youth had caused me to become extremely difficult to treat. She also said they are probably why I went into Kidney Failure. One of the side effects of 12 of the medications had to do with the bladder, with holding urine, problems with the pelvic floor and urinary tract and not feeling the need to urinate. All of this would cause the thickening of the ureters that I now have.

Not one Kidney doctor or Urologist ever asked about my previous medications or even suspected them.

She said the significant loss of gray and white matter in my brain is why I have trouble with CBT or DBT Therapy I have memory issues that are getting worse.

She said “I’m not going to lie to you. You know what the outlook is for you. You’re not physically well enough for ECT and this state isn’t as advanced as other states as far as alternative therapies for you”. I told her that I knew on average someone like me lives 25 years less than the average person but with all of my other problems the number is probably higher. She said “Yes it is, much higher”.

I need to find a way to come to terms with all of this. The biggest problem is my Dad and my twin sister not understanding any of it. A perfect stranger cries for me and knows that I might have a good 10 years left if that but my own family thinks I don’t try hard enough or I’m lazy. That is what bothers me the most.

I might have to leave the only home I’ve ever known to find some peace.


Maybe I need a tougher looking profile picture. Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest about my mental health and addiction or the rest of my life. Maybe I shouldn’t make comments when I think something or someone is generous or kind. I keep setting myself up for these awful situations. Somehow I’m the one that always ends up feeling bad about it.

I don’t remember how many years ago it was but I had just opened a Twitter account and I was following Nikki Sixx. It was a verified account. I made a couple of observations that he or maybe someone who works for him “liked”. Not long after I get a Direct Message from Nikki Sixx. At first I thought “Huh, that’s weird. But I have met a lot of musicians and know people who know him so who knows?”. Nope. It wasn’t him and I felt like an ass. It was so bad I closed my account and went off Twitter for over a year. It kind of sucked because I had a lot of followers including the lead singer for Blue October but I wasn’t in a good place.

The second incident involved Dave Navarro. I was back on Twitter and he was involved in a campaign against domestic violence. Knowing his story and having much respect for him I commented on his verified account. Someone then started using his name to try to talk to me about domestic violence. I didn’t answer. They then came on my blog and made nasty comments about my own past history with men and violence. I was furious. I did everything I could to trace the person. For months I went back and forth between crying and periods of rage. I also kept thinking I wasn’t good enough, I was a horrible person, and I deserved to be treated like garbage. It took a long time to recover from that one.

Now Steven Tyler keeps calling me on “Hangouts” something I didn’t even know I had. I commented on his Kia commercial on his verified account and he “liked” it. Then the Direct Messages started. He said he just broke up with his girlfriend, she cheated on him and he just wanted someone normal to talk to. I knew it wasn’t him. Did I want it to be him? Of course I did. I was mad that it wasn’t him. When the nonstop calling started I did the one thing you’re not supposed to do. I engaged.

I kept asking questions. The answers were evasive and the wording was strange. Whenever “let’s” was supposed to be used it wasn’t and there were a lot of mistakes in the grammar. It’s a pet peeve of mine. I asked about it and he said he had the flu. He must’ve come on here because he knew about my kidney situation and said he would do anything to help as long as he could “make me smile”. There were way too many “babes” and he kept saying he was looking for “true love”. Sorry, but you decide on a Bipolar woman who has been sober over 9 years and has issues with trust and men?

I said I wouldn’t talk to him unless it was from a verified account. He made an excuse that his Twitter had been hacked so he couldn’t from there. I said “What about Instagram?” He said “OK” but never did it. At the same time I see that the real Steven Tyler is on plane so I asked the fake what he was doing. He said he had just had some visitors. I said “Did they ski dive over?” “Were they snakes?” He replied “You are funny” I said “I know I am because I’m looking at a picture of the real Steven Tyler sitting on a plane right now you idiot”. I haven’t heard from him since. The snakes were in reference to “Snakes on a Plane” I was amusing myself at that point.

It still pisses me off and makes me sad at the same time. I love Steven Tyler. I don’t want my memories of him to be tarnished by some asshole. I admit I’ve always wanted to be around people in the music industry. People who write lyrics that I love and identify with. So many of them have experienced the same things I have as far as mental health and addiction and having it centered around the music scene. But I’m not delusional, well maybe a little. Maybe I just miss the days of going to concerts and meeting bands, hanging out backstage. I wonder what it would’ve been like if I looked like I do now instead of the large girl who was like one of the guys.

I’m too old to think like this and maybe I do it to protect myself from actually being in the real world.1a8558e0c844a70f89c943a1be855a8e


It’s easy to say you love music. But music has always been different for me. From the moment I was born I loved it. I know this love comes from my Mom. She played the music she loved constantly. In the car, in the house, and at work. I grew up loving the music she loved. She passed her love of music not only to me but to my brother also.

My brother is 7 years older than I am so I also listened to what he loved growing up. I grew up with music from the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s and 80’s. I was lucky they both had such a wide variety of taste. It went from Oldies to Disco to Country to Rock to Metal and I loved it all. Eventually I figured out my own favorites.

I had a hard time making friends and spent a lot of time alone in my room listening to music. I knew I was different but I didn’t understand why. It would be many years before I did. I was bullied most days at school but kept it to myself. I kept everything to myself. To this day I still have the same 1 best friend. I’m lucky she knows all the bad and all the good about me and accepts me as I am. She was never good at confrontation either.

We both used music to express ourselves. If we were pissed off we would put in some Pantera or Metallica and blast it while driving fast in her black Trans Am (I probably got the car wrong but it was a T-top black sports car that looked cool). She knew if I was sad we were playing Aerosmith. My love of Aerosmith knew no bounds. I had every cassette they had made, every VHS tape, every album, and when they came to town I was at their shows.

In high school when we had study hall they did this odd thing where they would put you in the back of an ongoing class. So as a Junior I would sit in the back of a Freshman History class for Study Hall. One day I was bored and started listing all the Aerosmith songs I knew. A Freshman boy looked over to see what I was writing. He said “Are those Aerosmith songs?”. I told him they were. He said “What do you know about Aerosmith?”. I thought “Oh no he didn’t” but I didn’t talk to people not even little jackass Freshman. But he kept it up and people who know me do know that if you poke long and hard enough you will get a response.

Needless to say I was asked to leave Study Hall. The Front Office had never seen or heard of me, unfortunately my brother was well known. Even though he has a different last name they flagged my sister and I just in case. All for the love of Aerosmith and because I let the music do the talking.

When I began to stutter several years ago my relationship with music became even stronger. I don’t think people really understand what it’s like to be almost mute at crucial times. My stuttering isn’t a normal stutter. It sounds like jibberish.

When all you want to do is tell someone how you real feel but can’t because nonsense comes out of your mouth it’s frustrating. The more frustrated you get the worse your speech gets.

When I drank I had no problem with speaking. This wasn’t a good thing. Music also influenced my mood quite a bit while I was drinking. My best friend knew this before I did and would try to prevent certain songs from being played at a bar or party. But she wasn’t my babysitter and could only do so much.

She did know that if she put on Aerosmith I would usually calm down and go back to the somewhat happy drunk I started out as.

Mr. Steven Tyler’s words, music, and whimsical charm have saved me more times than I can count. I thank you for that often. I also thank you for showing honesty and generosity to younger versions of me. I may not be religious but I believe in the power of music.

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