Six months ago things were fine, the next day I was out of my mind. The thoughts racing through my head at a hundred miles an hour. Suicidal thoughts that would not seem to leave me alone. This was not me. I grew up in a loving family, I’m in a band, I’ve got a wonderful girlfriend. Why am I suddenly sleeping every day and having these suicidal tendancies? I decided to run away from all of it. I packed my backpack with a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and a bible and hit the road. I didn’t have a destination. I didn’t even have a care in the world about my friends, or family, or what was going to happen to me. Thoughts were fuzzy and scattered. One minute I was thinking about jumping in front of a train, the next minute I would laugh at myself for having such a thought.

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