Early 20's

So after coming out of jail, my family and friends had decided they were done helping me and they could not do it anymore. I ended up going to a rehabilitation place where I lived for the first time without family or friends. It was AA based and we had to do meetings every day by the campfire before heading back to the apartment. I, at that point did not really speak to my family. I got a job as a bill collector and just did my thing in life, trying to find my place. Where do I belong? Who am I? Why am I crazy? What lead me here in life? Why can't I love? Will I ever be able to? Why has god forsaken me? Is it my fault? Am I going to hell because I am gay? Those are just a few questions that finally started to arise in my life. I think at this point in my life I finally was in a position to start questioning things. One day I was awoken at this place by my grandmother. She advised me that my best friend Lowell (the one who gave me advice to go hitchhiking) had been murdered. He was working at daily work/daily pay doing manual labor and befriended a guy in need. He had no money and was hungry and bieng the carefree person willing to help a person in need, he had offered to take him back to the house, and feed him. They went back and as he was making the sandwiches, the guy took his weight set and smashed his head in and then took a knife and slit his throat. The guy was a crackhead and was apparently "withdrawing". Lowell's life ended for 20 dollars that the guy stole from him. I was scheduled to be pall bearer (I think thats what its called when you hold the casket at the funeral). Even to this day it all feels like a really bad dream. I remember it so well though. She took me to the funeral where I was directed to get his casket out of the car and go lay him down next to the plot. Most of my family was there as well as his wife and kids and they were all crying. The second that I put my hands on the casket, I began to cry uncontrollably and did not stop the whole time. It was the only time I have ever cried at a funeral. They had planned an after funeral celebration at papago park where there was a keg party and music. It is the place where Alison and Lowell got married. He had always wanted a funeral where everyone was happy and worry free full of love. I was not able to go, because there was alcohol there and I was living in an AA oriented place. I think that is where I ended up hating the concept of AA because after I went back, I started smoking pot again occasionally at work with coworkers. A few weeks later, I got kicked out when they drug tested me. I ended up calling up alison to see how she was doing. She was 9 months pregnant and about to have her baby soon as well as with two children from Lowell already and was having a tough time. I told her that if she let me move into her house I would help take care of her kids. So I did. I stayed there for a while. I pretty much did all the stay at home mom type duties while she tried getting everything taken care of financially. There was alot going on for her. She also let this other kid move in (either that or he just stayed there alot) but we ended up doing meth randomly. It got a little worse and I personally would get methed out and go to adult bookstores and have sex, or I would go and meet people online and have promiscous sex. I had developed a sex addiction even further than when I was 17-18. I did not know names to any of the people I slept with and didn't care. So, after about 50 random sex partners. I started getting sick. It was like the flu but it wasnt. I went into the hospital after about two weeks (also not doing drugs anymore because I was sick) and told them that I had something wrong with my body and whatever it is, it is bad. They reassured me that it was just the flu and to go home and rest. More weeks passed by, and I was still sick and went back again. Again, they told me it was the flu and they could do nothing for it. One day, alison had gone to the hospital because she was in labor and I was making a homemade pot pie for dinner for the kids. A family friend named Benson came over to inform me that he was told that I was not caring for the kids and he was sent there to kick me out on the streets. I, not feeling well from "my sickness" started acting irrational because I had actually been taking care of the kids the whole time. I immediately thought it was my aunt who said that and kicked me out on the streets. I walked close to 12 miles to my aunts house and when I got there I started banging on her door and screaming and she opened the door and I slit my wrists. She called the cops on me to where I ended up going to a mental rehabilitation. After I was released from there, I ended up staying at my mothers house with her and my sister. She was now divorced from my step-dad (or in the process of trying to) and she was drinking again and my sister who was 16 was pregnant with her first child and living in a two bedroom apartment in tempe. The hospital had scheduled a doctors apointment for a wellness check up. I went in, and they had asked me if I wanted to do an HIV test. I said yes. Two weeks later I got the call saying that I needed to come in and discuss the results. I was scared at that point because I knew something was wrong so my high school friend shandelle went down with me. I walked in alone while she waited outside and the doctor told me that I was HIV POSITIVE. I immediately said I have to go. He advised me of paperwork that needed to be signed so I rushed to sign all those papers and I walked out, where she was and I just grabbed her and starting crying hysterically. She told me that it would be okay and I took a deep breathe, wiped the tears from my eyes and said "ok, now to go tell my mom". So I did. I lived there for a little while where I didn't do anything but drink and wallow in my depression. My mom had become a severe alcoholic and was drinking 30 packs a night and dating different guys all the time and I was becoming a severe alcoholic as well, seeing as I was finally 21 now and able to drink legally and go to bars/clubs. One night, I had come home from the club and my mom had gone out camping for the weekend with a boyfriend at the time and I was alone in the house for the whole weekend. I woke up the next morning and went to go do the dishes and my arms were weak to the point where I could not hold the plates and put them up. I called my mom and she told me that it was because I had gone dancing and that I will be fine. I knew something was wrong though. The next day I called her up again and said "mom, I am having troubles walking now too and I can stand up for more than a minute". She told me once again, it was from the clubs and I would be just fine. The following day, I could not even get up off the floor, could no longer stand or walk at all and I called her up and said mom, I cant even sit up now. I am laying on the floor not able to move. She advised me to call the ambulance so I did. They came and got me and started to run tests on me. They did not know what was going on with me, but I was progressively going paralyzed and not able to move at all. No arms, no fingers, no toes, no legs, no head. The harder I tried to move, the weaker my muscles were. Then started the pain all over my body. I felt every nerve in my body connected to every muscle and every nerve felt individually like someone was taking a knife and jamming it into my whole body over and over again. My mom was back from camping and had been at the hospital the whole time while this was happening. The doctors told her they do not know what this is causing this and ran test after test on me. My breathing started to slow and they moved me to ICU to monitor me. I had been constantly on drugs this whole time. Morphine, Percocet, Vicodin... ANYTHING and EVERYTHING to kill the pain, but it did not help. I was convinced at this point that I was going to die. I asked them to get me a priest to see if he would baptize me because I wanted to have GOD know that I was sorry for the wrongs I had done in my life. When the priest came in, he asked me why I wanted to be baptized and I told him that my whole family were witches and I was as well but I wanted to be forgiven of my sins. He then, laid the holy water along my table side, and walked out without blessing me. Finally, after about a month of constant tests and not bieng able to move at all, they told my mother that my disease was called Guillian Barre Syndrome. It was a neurological disease that a virus in the body attacks the spinal chord sending signals to your brain to shut down the body. They told her that even if I was to come out of this, and months of physical therapy to learn how to move again, I might never be the same again. They immediately started medication and I was at the weakest point I had ever been in life at this point. I felt as if my life was going to end and in fact had the near death experience people all talk about. I was lying in bed and everything went dark. I started to feel no more pain as a white light appeared. There was a hand reaching for me and my friend lowell beside it. He said, you have a choice. You can come if you would like to. It felt so nice and trusting and a part of me wanted to. But then i started seeing flashes of beautiful mountain tops and I smelt roses and thought about how I could not go because my life was meant to find love, pure love. The kind the bible describes so I said no. I woke up and looked over at my finger and just started telling it to move over and over in my mind. It took about 7 hours of me doing this and I had moved my first finger. I instantly started crying. I knew that this will get better at that point. My hope was back. Day after day my movement started to get better. One day my hand, the next my arm, few days later I was sitting up and then finally to stand on my own two feet again! My body was still very weak and I could not stand or sit for long periods of time but the doctors were amazed at my recovery. It took months at an old peoples home for me to train my body to function again, but I was determined to be normal again. I did become normal again and the next year at the same time of year, it happened again. This time it was only my legs and when I went in, they immediately knew what it was and started treatment. And then a year later, AGAIN! same thing but after that happened, it had never happened again. They tell me that I, one day, could have it happen again without warning. Thank god it hasn't happened yet. Three times was enough.