I’m officially 41.

At age 33, I was “celebrating” my birthday at my dealers crack den, which I also lived at.

It’s been a long, hard 8 years, but it’s been worth it. Changing my life was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do but it has been completely worth it. I’ve gone from begging for change like the people on the corner of Flinders and Elizabeth, to interviewing for better IT Manager roles. I’m normally humble, but I’m really fucking proud of that fact. That I got what I wanted in the end.

Got some great friends. People that are my family. People that have supported me, and I’m proud of being able to support when they need help. I love that I have a music studio full of great stuff that keeps me happy, and of course, the fluffy criminal known as Gibson. I still compare myself to others, but I’m learning to appreciate what I have, and that I’m very lucky that I’m so stubborn. I never wanted to die in the gutter. It’s ok that I don’t have property, or 100k in investments etc. I have a great rental that I can make loud guitar like noises in whenever I like and that’s perfect for now. Plus Gibson gets to run around in a big place and that’s great too.

At times, it’s been a very solitary existence. Readjusting to society after years and years of living in another world was jarring. I missed a lot, and am still catching up in a lot of ways. Making friends is hard when you have big gaps in your life. When people are talking about holidays and trips overseas, or festivals and weddings they’ve been to, you sit there quietly and try not to look too conspicuous. Only my close friends know the deal, and they’ve been wonderful in accepting me for who I am. I’m very lucky to have them.

Relationships are tricky. I’ve had some shitty experiences that have tarnished my view of dating, but I still keep trying to find the right kind of person. People like me can be easy to manipulate if you have bad intentions and I’ve learned what to look out for after the last disaster.

Sometimes, in weaker moments, I do consider going back to the old life, but that is like an alarm going off that says “hey, something in your life is really fucking bad right now, you need to fix it”. And I do as best as I can. My cancer scare last week definitely had me thinking of running back to the street, but thankfully there was no cancer. Even if there was, I don’t think I would have gone back. But I think that thought will always be there in the back of my mind when things are really tough. One of the leftover bits from the past.

Never give up on yourself. I guess that’s the point of this mini rant. Sometimes you want to. Sometimes it seems that there’s no way through. But you never know what will happen tomorrow.

Have a great day everyone :)