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Dear diary

I am a man! That being said, as a young boy I liked getting dirty. As I got older, I went from a tricycle to a bicycle. Bicycles are faster. From that epiphany learned I loved going fast. From that I devoured car magazines. Eventually I bought a car that I could race(drag) Race cars cost money. So with my inflation for getting dirty/greasy and seeing how things come apart and go back together I became a machinist, a perfect fit. As I got older I kept wanting to go faster.

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Then my world came crashing down. Just as I finally reached a point wear my talent was starting to shine, my MS bit me hard. No more working and no more racing. I sold all my machinist tools and my race car. I had lost my identity. That caused a deep depression and serious thoughts of leaving my "mortal coil". Alcohol became my best friend. After losing a close friend to alcohol I saw that that was not the path I wanted to follow, so I dried myself up, cleaned myself off and found some excellent medical help (both physical and mental) through Cleveland Clinic. And that is why I am here today. Happy as a clam, yes I am, yes I am! :)

P.S. Just finished 61 trips around the sun. Wee-e-e.

This article represents the opinions, thoughts, and experiences of the author; none of this content has been paid for by any advertiser. The team does not recommend or endorse any products or treatments discussed herein. Learn more about how we maintain editorial integrity here.

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