Prologue

You know, as I sit back and think about my life, a lot comes up. Through every trial and

tribulation, I've fought to be the best version of myself. Having this idea about a book detailing

my life (Autobiography or Memoir, if you must) has always trailed in my mind. I've always

started on the progress, but always felt it wasn't good enough. Now that I sit in this classroom

at Dyer County High School – I figure it is time to tell my story. I mean, I lived the events that

shall be detailed in this book. I am what this book embodies. The fact that some will that and Commented [1]: I like the honesty and the pouring out
of your heart into this book.

run with it, is okay with me. If this helps anyone, then my job has been done. I'm not here for

any attention or vanity. I just want people to know my struggle, hardships, and how I overcame Commented [2]: I love the humility.

it all. This is my life and all that has happened within it. Now, I have that platform. After having

so much happen, it’s time I open up and tell my story of struggle, defeat, the good times, the

sad times, and much more. I feel as if this can be me opening up to anybody that decides to

read this and show them how I fell down, but eventually got back up and cleaned the wounds.

You can say I’m doing this to have peace, because that’s just it. If I don’t tell my story, then who

will? Only I know the feelings, emotions, and what happened in my mind. Then there's those

whom were in the plain view. My story has had many chapters that I’m willing to open up

about. So, now I welcome you all to my crazy and chaotic life. I hope it gives some insight and

the truth to what I've faced. So, with that, I say enjoy.
 Part One: Knowing Something About Me Was Different.

For the longest amount of time, I knew something was different. From a very young age, I was

separated from the ‘typical boy’ image and came into my own light. For me, football and trucks

didn’t click. No, I wanted to see how my cousins did their make-up and dressed their dolls. I

knew deep down that I wasn’t the same, but I didn’t know how to express the fact. I remember

my mother pushing me away from what I wanted and gender stereotyping what I watched, did,

and loved. At age five, I was forced into t-ball. I went along with this, because mother said it

was best. In all actuality, I hated every bit of it. I hated having to go out, hit a ball, and all the

other tasks that came with it. I wanted to learn about the celebrities and female figures I saw

on the news. I wanted to see into their lifestyles. Yet, I couldn’t do that. In a way, I became

sheltered from the world. I became an image of what people wanted to see and not who I was.

From the time I could walk, talk, and interact - I knew that I wasn’t like my fellow peers. I didn’t

want to get excited over the games of football, or who was the best looking girl. So, I just hid in

the shadows and became a manufactured product. My mother later confessed to me that she

always knew of this factor in my life, but I have always had one thought in my mind. Why not

help me instead of hiding it? That question may never be answered, but I’m okay with that. I’m

personally at peace with who I am and what my life has become. I just wished I could have been

closer and expressed such at a sooner age, with no backlash. To be honest, the first time I knew

that I had no sexual or physical attraction for women was early on. I had a close friend named

Brandon. He had been around me since a young age and our families had known each other for

the longest. I knew when I met more peers that something was different. I didn’t think the
‘prettiest girl’ was cute, no I got the butterflies for the boys in class. And that feeling only grew

as I aged. Yeah, people knew, and I was often bullied for such. Yet, I always denied the fact to

all. Honestly, I did this because I didn’t feel accepted. Then through a few times moving around

from place to place, I ended up in Athens, Georgia. The college town, if you must. Here is where

things got worse. It was middle school, a time of growth and development, in middle school

begins to develop who they are what identities they’ll have in life. For me, I became more and

more attracted to the young men of my grade. The first person I recall feeling such ways about,

was a friend and peer named Michael. I don’t know what it was, but he radiated something that

sent a type of butterfly feeling within my stomach. It was like, I wanted to be more than just

friends with this boy. I wanted to hold his hand and let myself be free. Sadly, I couldn’t do that.

And to this day, I never told anyone, not even him. Then came the class that was simple hell,

Gym Class. You see, in our gym, all the boys had to change and shower together. So, mixed in

with the normal kids were also upcoming athletes. This truly did test me, because I didn’t want

to be ‘out’ at age 11. All I knew was, I felt a way about these guys that I couldn’t about the girls.

It was truly hard and even killed the once radiating confidence and happiness I had. I just found

ways to hide every single factor, I acted like something I wasn’t. The carbon image my mother

had set. That image of the son she wanted, but didn’t have. I don’t know, it just felt like my

world caved in. And, to make matters worse, I was stuck in a highly religious family full of

bigots. That really put pain in my heart, because I knew if I ‘came out’ - they’d hate me for who

I was. So, I kept every factor hidden. I never told the family in Georgia about myself, and to this

day, I don’t know if they ever figured it out. So, through middle school, I bit my tongue and

went on. Hell, my hormones weren't having it though. When I came back to Tennessee in the
8th grade, my true feelings were tested. I remember finally being sick of hiding it all and

starting off by telling random strangers on the internet and getting advice. So, that gave me

confidence about life. It made me whole. I remember silently telling a few close friends before

high school. It was all great until part got out. Yeah, I denied every factor of being a

homosexual. I wasn’t ready for all to know this fact of my life. So, I went all through summer

not letting it be known to my family. I even had sex with a close female friend, pushing myself

so people wouldn’t doubt my sexual orientation. And in every way possible, I believe this broke

me down even more than before. It tore apart my confidence and sent me into a major

depression. I remember accepting who I was in August of 2015, but still deciding to keep quiet.

It was hard, as it expected. I felt it had to be done. Sadly, I didn’t have the chance to tell all my Commented [3]: Dont start sentence with "Just."

peers in private. This was due to the fact that I was outed (forced to tell others of my sexuality,

without my input). So, after being outed, I had no choice. Everyone around me talked, because

they knew. Thankfully, all my peers were beyond accepting. And I decided to still keep the fact Commented [4]: Dont start sentence with "And."

hidden from my family. I wanted to wait and tell them. I wanted to have that chance to tell my

family that was stripped from telling my peers. Then that fateful day came around. I remember

it oh too well. The date in question was November 15, 2015. I remember all that happened. We

had just dropped my friend Bre off with her family and the small Ford that I was in consisted of

Myself, My Mother, and her now Ex-Husband Bobby. It was around 7:30 at night and I knew it Commented [5]: lower case for these

was time. Bre had accidentally let it slip that I was who I am earlier that night. Yet, I guess in my

mind, no one heard. So, before we reached our road, I decided to cut on Beautiful Scars by

Madonna. When the song hit its milestone, I began to cry. I remember looking at other two Commented [6]: the

adults in the car. With a shake of my voice, I admitted that I was gay. In that moment, I felt as if
I were free. They both knew and I had nothing to hide. Bobby, for one, took the news swell. My Commented [7]: comma after "knew"

Mother, not so much at first. She was honestly outraged. It was the fact that the copy she tried Commented [8]: lower case

to create was shattered. It was gone and broken. She went as far as forcing me to call all family

and simply tell them, despite not being ready. This only pushed us farther away. Yes, I will

always love her, but I won’t forget what she did and how she acted. So, after all this, I made a

post on Facebook sharing it with the rest of my family and friends. I didn’t expect all to accept

me, but the outlash was better than expected. Many came to my aid and accepted what they

knew by heart. Yes, I did lose other people, but now I see that they were never true friends

anyway. To me, a true friend or family member not only accepts your flaws, but allows you to

embrace them. So, to those that did push me away, I’m sorry you can’t accept who I am. Just

know, I hope that the hate in your heart is one day healed. I hope you find peace, as I have. I

don’t hate the girl that outed me to peers and I don’t hate my mother either. As I’ve grown with

age, I’ve learned many valuable lessons. The most important is to always stay true to who you

are and never change for anyone. No matter what, you should always love who you are as a

person. Why? Well, that is your identity and why you’re unique from the rest. And, you should

never let anyone tell you different. I wish I would’ve known such sooner, but I’m grateful to Commented [9]: differently
Commented [10]: much
have learned such. One thing that still baffles me to this day, well two, are how you never stop Commented [11]: not needed to keep using the word
"such."
‘coming out’ and the fact that people always seem to spread hate rather than love. I feel that if Commented [12]: Just say "two things"

we saw people for their souls and not other factors, the world would be a better place. As for

myself, I don’t see color or other things. I see people for how good their heart is and how they Commented [13]: be specific - differences in people

are in whole. That’s the best quality to see, not looks or even who they love. Yes, some people Commented [14]: holistically

have their own opinions on the subject, as do I. I understand people will always be close-
minded and hate, but as they do that, I will forever love and spread my word. In a way, I feel it

is my responsibility to help others. Help them know that no matter what, they’re perfect the

way they are. Yes, I am a homosexual. Yet, that doesn’t define my character. Just like being Commented [15]: Fragment, I want to help...

heterosexual doesn’t define others. Maybe, just maybe, one day I won’t have to feel fear of

being accepted. Yet, I know that I’m perfect as I stand. And quite frankly, no person will ever

take that away. The lesson for this is as follows, just be yourself people. Who cares if others Commented [16]: insert a colon (:) here

don’t like you? Like Bette Davis once stated, “If everyone likes you, you’re not doing it right”. Commented [17]: commas go on the inside of this
quote.

That quote holds a special place in my heart. It does such, because it is very true. Yeah, I am a Commented [18]: NO! Stop the "such" so much! :)

little different than others, but I’m just me. Why be like everyone else, when I can be the first

Dru Phelps-Hood?

Part Two: Losing A Lot, Gaining So Much More

You know, many people have loss in their life. That may be death or even something such as a Commented [19]: NO!

downfall in their financial status. For this portion, I wanted to discuss losing many loved and

quite frankly - losing touch of who I am. These were trying times in my life, but each event Commented [20]: I dont think you need this
sentence...just get into what you are going to discuss.

taught me something. Whether that be a lesson or how to help others that may end up in

similar situations. In the end, I do believe everything happens for a reason. I believe everything

happens for preparation. That’s why when I did lose friends, family, my mental mindset, and

other things - it was hard. Yet, through everything that happened, I grew stronger. Yes, the pain

was very evident and I did show signs of weakness, but in the end - I came out better than

before. I guess you can call it a miracle. A blessing in disguise, if you must. Through every trial Commented [21]: "will."
and tribulation, my bounds were tested. And, at times, I was weak. I did have moments like Commented [22]: No "And" to start a sentence.

everyone else, where I didn’t overcome the pain and let it take over my conscious. To start this

part off, I think I’ll talk about Michael. A beautiful soul and unlikely companion. Michael Horvat Commented [23]: I dont think you need this sentence -
just begin talking about him.

was someone that all could look up to. He truly was a beautiful soul and a true artist. Through Commented [24]: was Michael...

my middle school years, I remember taking trips and us growing as friends. He accepted me

when I first came to Athens, along with Trent, Tyson, Kat, and a few others. They allowed me in

their circle, and I remain grateful. Sadly, Michael took his life on September 25, 2017. No, I

don’t know why he did such. I honestly believe that he was misunderstood and didn’t feel like Commented [25]: NO! "this"

he had a source to share his issues. In a way, I believe that he may have called out for help, but

no one saw. I do miss him so dearly. I mean, I just wish people saw the signs and helped, or that Commented [26]: heard him.
Commented [27]: delete do
he would’ve been more open. Michael was an angel taken far too soon, but I now know that he

is in peace. He was an artist, in the way of how funny he was and made others laugh. For me, I Commented [28]: at

believe that when an artist dies, God allows them to paint the sky. With Michael, I know he’s at

rest and no longer feeling hurt or lost. One day we will all see him again, when is the answer I Commented [29]: is no...
Commented [30]: semi colon(;) instead of comma
don’t know. With that, I do say, Rest in Peace MIchael. I love and miss you so dearly and hope here.
Commented [31]: lower case
that you are living in a tropical paradise. Yes, I have been affected by numerous deaths over the

years. Another tragedy I personally went through, was the passing of my Grandfather. Though

we were never as close, I still cared and loved him. It was a bond that many can’t have, and I am Commented [32]: rephrase - "cared for and loved
him."

thankful to have experienced it. In the end of it all, I’ll never forget sitting at Barnes Jewish

Hospital in St.Louis. That was a devastating time, to say the least. I watched him on a machine,

clinging for his life. This was an event that certainly pushed me over the metaphorical edge for

sure. You see, no, we were never as close as I wanted or yearned to be. Yet, he was still family
and you’re not supposed to give up on family. I felt a type of responsibility, not my own, but to Commented [33]: "to myself"

him. Our bond wasn’t what I would have wanted it be, but there was something still there. I

blame myself for this. Why? Well, I never really tried to have a relationship, I pushed my family Commented [34]: either a period (.) or a semi (;)

away. Ever since he passed, my conscious was wanting the truth to come out. And, as much I

would go back in time, I regret nothing. I know that everything happens for a sole purpose, as Commented [35]: no comma needed here

crazy as that sounds. This event happened because it was fate. No one escapes death, just like

nobody can escape the heartache that follows. My grandfather was a man of many strengths Commented [36]: no one
Commented [37]: comma after strengths
and I know that he’s proud of me. Proud that I was never silenced, nor put down as others

wanted. Yes, I lost someone dear, but I gained hope and knowledge. You see, you may lose so

many things and people in your life, but that’s how life tends to be. The key to it all is to be

strong and never doubt your abilities. If I doubted myself, would I even be standing here today?

Honestly, the answer to that is a hard no. People can call it what they like, but after losing all

that I did and not having the knowledge I do now - I ended up almost ending my own life. It was

a true leap of faith that I became a survivor, not another face that they’d call victim. It was a

hard time, and I wasn’t in the right state. So yeah, I did commit myself to an institution. I mean,

I felt there was no other choice. To this day, I regret nothing about my decision and believe that

it was best. As I look back at my decisions, my soul is beyond content. Many say I’m beyond my

years and to say that, must mean I withhold a certain type of knowledge. That is something I Commented [38]: no comma here
Commented [39]: possess, not withhold
cherish in my heart. I make mistakes like everyone. I’m not perfect by any means, trust me. I tie

my shoes and put on my pants like everyone else - one at a time. I just have experienced so

much in my 17 years of life, many deem it a Lifetime Movie. To which I honestly agree, because Commented [40]: comma instead of period
Commented [41]: lower case t
it is and has been that. Through death, loss, forgiveness, grief, and more - I’ve found how strong
I am. Strength has always been something my soul carries. Through the tasks life throws and

the hardships I’ve faced, the only true person to understand it all was myself. And at this point, Commented [42]: lower case, add a comma before
the and

I am okay with that. Yes, I let people into my story and allow them to read it all. Some go

between the lines, while others read word to word. The main statement I make everytime is

that I may have lost many things, but I gained so much more. I gained knowledge, wisdom,

strength, and will-power. That is truly most important, in my mind. I feel as if I didn’t go

through these events, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I wouldn’t be standing here and sharing

my story. People did contribute in helping me see my worth, but I withheld the need to end it

all, for a greater purpose. I believe that purpose is to share this and be candid with all. If I can

help just one person understand and relate, my job has been done. My purpose in life will have

many roads, bumps, bruises, and scars — yet, I’m prepared to take it all on with a smile. After

all, you will lose things significant in life, but this is to teach you lessons and show your true

value. All in all — you can’t put a price tag on the scars you obtain and the wounds that are

healed.

Part Three: The Truth About My Mother

Where do I start for this section? This is the truth about my mother, Misty Nicole Phelps-

Brewer. A woman that would castaway her own born for the love of a man or much more. You

see, my mother isn’t the saint she paints for all to see. She is far from that. My biological

mother is a misogynistic, manipulative woman that will do anything to get her way. You see, I

personally, I forgive her for all she has done to me, but I won’t forget. I feel as if the truth
should be told. I feel it is time that all comes clean. This is my truth and I refuse to be silenced. I

refuse to keep quiet. So, where do I begin? This woman has been in my life for the good, ugly,

bad, great, and beyond. Yet, she was in it for herself. If people only knew the truth — they’d

see her in a different light. Misty was a woman that put men, her needs, and whatnot before

her child. No, not all times were bad, but not all were the best. I just look back and remember

the pain she caused me. I remember what that woman put me through. To this day, I feel the

pain of the past. I feel the pressure she put on me to pain this false image — a clone of what

she could not have in life. As I grew up, she put men like her ex-husband and ex-fiance Shawn,

before the needs and nurture of her child. As I write these words, I feel on the verge of tears. I

will always have some type of love for this woman, but I will never allow her to ruin what I have

once again.

This doesn’t come from hate, by any means. These words, thoughts, and feelings come from

within. Anyone can tell you the truth about Misty Phelps-Brewer, because many know the type

of person she truly. And no, she wasn’t always the woman that she has become now. Yet, I

believe she formed into this through self-hate, the hate she feels for not doing all that was set

before her. She went from being what I remember as a hard working woman, to falling to the

feet and hand of a man. Yes, she can deny these claims, but the truth was to get out eventually.

I can recall how she chose the needs of Shawn and Bobby, to only leave me at a friends for

weeks — if not months. Maybe it was the drugs or heartache from losing both parents at a

young age, I’m not sure. What I do know is this — Misty gave up on life. She turned to a path of

drugs, violence, and what not. My mother wasn’t there when I needed her most, but I do

forgive her. These days I just wish that she would live up to her potential and see the light of
day. The last thing related to me was a Facebook post, a post that in the comments, she

admitted that I was ‘No longer her kid’. That showed me something and lit a fire within my

heart. Not a fire of hate, but one of pity. I feel as if she does feel remorse for all of this, all that

she has done. I also feel that at the same time, she is angered by such. I remember sitting in a

meeting and seeing her look at me. She uttered the words, ‘This is all your fault, you’re the

reason this happened. You’re the reason I got on drugs’. That truly clicked with me. I felt bad for

her. She blamed others for the mistakes that she could not admit to. It is quite sad, in the

utmost form of honestly. At the end of the day, Misty is broken down. She is at a point in life

that I can’t describe. I pray for her to get better, but that is all I can do. I just hope that one day

she does become clean and see what is missing in life. I miss the happy side that I honestly

haven’t seen since about age four. Yes, I will forgive all that she has done. As I do not judge

anyone on their past. Yet — I want her to know one thing. In the end, she must see what is lost

and try to fix the broken pieces. Only she can do this, and I hope that one day she finds peace

with life, love, and what have you.

As it stands, I refuse to speak with this woman or have any type of relationship. As they say, you

can’t force someone to correct their mistakes — yet, you can give them time. So, for now, I

must give her time. I must allow my mother to see what she has lost and allow her heart to

restore every broken piece. As I said, I forgive Misty for all she has done. I just won’t forget and

will let time take a course. Maybe one day she can see all that is lost, or maybe not. All I can do

is pray for such. And Pray I will.

Part Four: My Struggles With Addiction

This is a part in which I’ve been contemplating on writing for the longest amount of time. This is

hard to remember due to all that has happened, but I do recall bits. In the end, I believe this is

something that also needs to be addressed. It needs to be public. If I’m sharing my struggles,

this might as well be listed for those who can relate. My life is one of chaos, for short terms. It

has had the best of times, that I live in glee. It has the worst of times, in which my personal

demons took over. This section is the truth about a period of time where I faced addiction. A

time where my heart of weak and mind clouded. This was a time where I wasn’t open to

anyone and chose the easy way out. I chose to let my weakness cloud what was right or wrong.

Hell, very few even know of such events. This is the part where I talk about my addiction. I

remember the start as if it were clear as day. I was on the Obion County Central Football Team.

It was 2016, just a few months after I came out. This time in my life pushed limits, because it

wasn’t easy by any means. At the time, my grandfather just passed and I was lost. I was lost

because I had no one to talk to. So, what did I do? Well, I turned to pills and alcohol. I

remember not feeling good enough about my body or self esteem. Many told me I wasn’t good

enough, that I was nothing but a ‘faggot’, and much more. I remember pushing myself into

various things to soothe the pain. One thing was a type of weight supplement. As crazy as it

sounds, I wanted to be thinner than I was. I wanted to shed the image I associated with pain.

And that, that is what broke me down in the end. I pushed myself into looking thinner, to prove

some type of point. That is what I do not know. This all created a monster. A Monster who

didn’t love themselves. A Monster that would rather cause self-destruction, instead of loving

themselves. In the end, I hated every aspect of who I was. I tried to distort that image and

change it. So, I turned first to weight loss supplements. To start, I began taking two to three a
day. That quota changed over time. I remember at one time, I took about seven a day. Then

came a low point. One day I took twenty of those pills at once. An all time low, if I must. I

wasn’t myself during these times. By any means, I was lost beyond help. It was a time that I

wasn’t myself. This was a time when I didn’t know who I saw when looking into the mirror.

That’s what hurt most about it all, because not only lose touch with reality — I also pushed

those closest away. These events were those I guess would be deemed fate. The fact that I’m

still alive is a modern miracle, and a blessing. I guess there was a bigger plan in store, or maybe

I’m just lucky. Either way, I’m sitting here today, sharing this with you.

In all honesty, I personally do not believe addiction is a disease, I believe it is a mindset. For

myself, my struggles with such are equated to struggles I felt during a hard time in my life. I was

weak and didn’t have a source to confess such or even confide in. These days, I’m healthy and

living freely. I look back at the past and see it all as a blessing. Everything happens for a reason,

and seeing that I’m here, I suppose my reason is share my story and help others.

Part Five: Manic is my Mindset

This is the part where I open up about something that society typically hides in the shadows.

This is the part where I discuss living life with Manic Depression, or as it is better known, Bipolar

Disorder. For anyone that knows me personally, understands how I was before the events and

before my disease truly kicked in. I was honestly at the top of the world. I was involved in

Football, Theatre, and had various relationships that were healthy and good. Yet, my diagnosis

changed all of that. It changed me as a person. The fact that a once joyful person can change

into someone that doesn’t want to live is a shock. I knew about this disease, due to a long
family history. My Great Grandmother even took her own life due to the fate of such. Yet, I

never spoke about my problems, I hid them. In the end, I believe this hurt me more than it

helped. I wasn’t in the best mental state and my conscious was clouded.

You see, dealing with this disease isn’t a then and there. Having this disease is an everyday

struggle. Yes, it can be managed with proper medication, but you still have days. There can be

days, weeks, and even months that I feel the best I have in years. Then there are days where I

don’t want to continue the fight, as in I just want to lay in bed and sleep. I contribute this to the

fact that when the days I hit, I just cry and feel emotional and mental pain. In a way, this

disease has taken over my life. It has ruined who I once was. Yes, it hurts and will be an ongoing

battle. Yet, I guess I just need to allow nature to take its course. I just know that the

medications help, in some ways. Yet, there is still those thoughts. Thoughts of hopelessness and

loss, I do not know how to cope. I don’t know what to do or how to express such, yet, in ways, I

do. My life has been a rollercoaster and I don't want the pity of anyone. I want to speak my

truth. I want to show my hardships to help others everywhere. Yes, I fight an ongoing battle,

that many do not see. I am a survivor of my own destruction. My mind has created this monster

that I fight to take down. That monster can’t have my happiness, my life. I must ascend beyond

every expectation and show these children, adults, and everything in-between that I came out

of these depths and so can they. In a way, I broke their stigma. I became my own person. I’m

not what they say. Fuck that. I have a heart. I have a life. I have more than this disease. I am

human. I am more than any of you think. You see, I go through these episodes. I embrace every

minute. Yet, it doesn’t define who I am. I am more than all of this. Through every struggle, fight,

trial, and tribulation. I am a survivor with thick bones. I see my life how it is. I see it as this
groundbreaking moment that I embrace. I was once told something that impacted me greatly. I

was told, ‘we’re all just souls having a human experience’. Yes, I have manic depressive bipolar

disorder. Does it define who I am as a young and growing individual? No.

Part Six: Survivor, Not Victim

This portion is a little more touching to my heart. A little more personal. You see, through my

life, that mold was cast onto me. I see it even today with my upcoming career in Pro-Wrestling.

You’re supposed to act a certain way. Look a certain way. Live a certain way. Be molded into a

certain way. For sixteen years, I was cast into that mold. Now, I sincerely say, fuck your

stereotypes. Fuck your molds. Fuck how you want to see me. I will use my voice and speak out. I

survived narcissism. I survived abuse. I survived control from a higher power. No more will I sit

back and watch. I will use my voice. No, I am not a victim. I am survivor. For so long, we are

categorized and labeled. WHy use a label for society? Why follow those set labels? That's my

question for you all. I was tired of the control, so like a phoenix, I arose through ash and

brimstone. I was always casted aside, and labeled. No more. I refuse to live in the darkness. I’m

only human like everyone else. Why should I be judged? I don’t subscribe to your labels or

judgement. Thankfully, I was one of the lucky few to break free from the mold and judgement.

Many are not as lucky and I pray for them. I hope they escape the cult-like atmosphere. For

years I was in the dark, stranded. Now I advocate against such things. Abuse is real, and should

be taken seriously. If you see a friend, family member, or neighbor in need - speak up. USE

YOUR VOICE. My aunt beth has come into this light as well, she has even enlightened me. She

has taught me about the narcissist's of society and helped me cope through the longstanding

effects and pain. If anything is to be said about me, I want it to be that I never gave up. I never
let go of who I was. I fought the stigmas each and every day. Many ask why I do what I do, and I

have motive. A method behind the madness. Why? To help, to heal, to show there is a life

outside the abuse and much more.