All My Friends Were Me

Two years after the thugs nearly stamped the life out of me, I brought an old street friend in to meet my new physician from the hospital that saved my life. But the good doctor only asked, was I being serious?

She pointed out—-as she wrote me a prescription—-that just she and I were there; my friend didn’t exist. I took her medication in defiance, to prove my friend was real.

Over the next month, all my friends disappeared.

Here is my story. How I survived the unforgiving streets with an overwhelmed mind living on the streets of San Francisco. From rich kid to an urban captive, to back home.