Signed by the author.
Checking into a mental clinic wasn’t exactly on my radar in 2022. Writing about it wasn’t either. But here we are. I spent a lifetime trying to create a ‘front’ to give everyone the illusion that all is well. It wasn’t, and it isn’t. Now I look back and I think, ‘what the f*ck was that all about?’I began the book trying to find meaning by going on various, life-changing journeys, I ended up in a mental clinic; obviously things didn’t work out the way I expected.
This is the story of what happened after the mental car crash . . .
From then on, the journey had to turn inward. It turns out I wasn’t looking for meaning, I was looking for home. I’m not a fiction writer. I can’t fake it. I could say I rode into the sunset, but life isn’t like that unless you’re a cowboy. Truth is I’m not as well as I thought I was.