It started when I was 5 years old.

I was fat. Don't know why I know I was hoarding food. 40 something years later, I still do it. I hoard food that is never eaten. I love to cook but cooking doesn't mean eating. That's wrong.

Easter Sunday and I wasn't even drunk.

I tripped over a parking barrier and I was clocked. My sister heard me hit the cement. I remember saying "I see blood." I remember my sister saying "I'm going to go get you..." and I didn't hear any thing else. I couldn't see anything and my ears were ringing. That's a UH-OH moment. I remember her taking me to the grocery store. I stayed in the car. After that I got nothing. I don't remember getting in the house, I don't remember seeing my sister leave or seeing my roommate. That's called knocked unconscious. I face planted. My brain just wasn't there after that. I'm eyeballing my Vicodin. I know it will take away the pain but in 30 minutes I'll be throwing up. I wish my body liked that drug.