Today is my birthday.
I turn 43. That number in of itself is not considered much of a milestone. But, for me, it is a defining number. It truly means I made it. I outlasted all the BS that was the insanity of my childhood and adolescence.
Why does today matter so much?
Because during my senior year in high school I pretty much lost my mind. Seriously. I felt broken and could barely see a future that didn’t include just more insanity. Hope? Nope.
So I started telling all of my friends, and even those I wouldn’t have called friends, that I was going to die when I was 42. I have no idea why I picked 42. Honestly, you can look for a reason, but I didn’t have one. Or if I did, I’ve long since forgotten it.
For the school year of 1990-91, my death at…
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