I'm lucky to be alive. I mean that in the most real sense.

I'm lucky. I'm so fucking lucky that it's practically unbelievable.

I lived in my car and then on the street when I was constantly losing time and I somehow managed not to get killed. In fact, I was still able to use my wits to l get out of several situations where that was a likely outcome.

I was completely lost, and didn't really have anyone close to me for most of that time. If I had fallen in close with a junkie, I would have become a heroin addict. I would have done just about any drug that was put in front of me at that point. But somehow, I managed to avoid getting an addiction.

My luck didn't stop or start there. I was severely burned as a child, but not only survived but miraculously avoided serious burns to my face. My roommate on the burn unit, Alfonso, was not so lucky, he didn't make it.

I lost a lot of time and almost flunked out of high school. But I made it through by the skin of my teeth. I passed without turning in most of my homework. Somehow. Graduated 313th out of 317 students.

I fell in with purpleglitter and her friends, who took me off the street and gave me the means of learning the skills that lead to my short stretch of decent employment which in turn has allowed me to collect ssdi instead of ssi.

Being able to get assistance without ending up again on the street is another stroke of luck. And at this point, my still having a place to live is astounding.

And I'm still here to live in it. I've tried to kill myself too many times, and came very close to succeeding on a few occasions. But I'm still here. Somehow.

I have seen my share of bad things and been my share of bad places, but I am blessed. It's utterly amazing that things turned out so well for me. I'm so very incredibly lucky. I feel I must have one of those guardian angels like the characters that won't die regardless of how much you shoot at them on Star Trek.