It's kinda funny how the truth get changed over time. How we remember it. I want the truth out there before my memory changes it any more. Hi my name is dan, I'm a recovering drug addict. My clean date is 5/24/13 and the most important day of my life is may 17th of 2013. I'll get to that in a little bit. A little about myself. I'm one of those addicts that didn't have a preferred drug I was homeless and an IV user. Heroin and meth. For a really long time. I am not trying to trigger anyone I just know some people will relate better. I've been using since I was 15 back in 2004. In late 2011 my mother died of cancer. It was the excuse I needed to really let go. I had a pregnant girlfriend and out baby was going to be disabled. I did what any drug addict with an excuse would do. I left. I flew across the country so I could drink and use how I wanted. When my child was born I was in a bathroom at a bar in Orlando. I got a picture of my child and I got a desire to get clean and to be a good dad. I flew home to try and be a dad and a partner and a good man. I had no tools. No solutions only problems. Wishing 2 months I picked up 2 new felonies.(I had only been off parole for 4 months). After I got out of jail I knew where I went wrong and tried it again. Told the PO if my way didn't work I would try the in patient criminal substance abuse program. I am a x-con did 3 years in state prison. It was may. My first Father's Day I spent nodded out in bed with my daughter crying beside me. I was back in jail within a week. I got into that treatment program. June 30th 2012 was my clean date. I was in there for 10 months. I wanted to quit so many times. I would call my po and hang up before he answered. Then I would call my little brother and tell him what I was going through. He was so strong and believed in me even when I didn't believe in myself. He would always talk me down tell me how proud he was of me. In reality I was proud of him. He had a dirt bag junkie as an older brother a mother that died the year he turned 18, and he had enlisted in the army and was becoming a amazing man. He was like my big brother. And I was the little brother. I wish I could say I took the suggestions they gave me in treatment. Take it slow. Go to meetings. Take self care time. I got a job I had some clean time and I got "cured". On May 17th of 2013 I was on the way to the pool with my daughters brother and sister and my little brother called. He wanted someone to talk to. He was having problems and needed that big brother he had been to me the last year. I wish I could tell you I took the time to talk to him. Instead I told him to man up stop being a bitch he was a grown ass man. Call me when he had it figured out. I'll never forget what I said and what he told me after that. He said whatever maybe I'll talk to you again some day. What I didn't know is my little brother was in a high speed chase with the police. His girlfriend had left him, and taken the kid. He was hurt and desperate for love. And he had never gotten over loosing our mother. 5 min later my little brother drove his car into a cement wall going 120 miles per hour. The car exploded on impact. He died instantly. I was out having a good old time living a life he helped give me by taking the time to talk to me. When I got up the next morning there was a army officer waiting to speak to me. I died that day. All the pain I had been running from. The hole I had barely stitched together ripped open. And I knew the cost of my selfishness. I held it together for a few days. Went to work. Set up the funeral. I remember makin his slide show for the funeral. It was the last thing I had to do. I thought " it's done I did my part I can go" I emptied my safe. Got my pay check and dropped off the pictures. I won't go into the details but that night i did my very best to kill myself in a bag. I don't remember much. But I remeber that no matter how much I did I couldn't kill the pain anymore. I was faced with a choice. I called my parole officer and told him I got loaded. I went to jail, got out for his funeral. I can still hear the bag pipes playing amazing grace as the casket closed. My little brother died so I could live. Even in death he took care of me. I don't know how long it would have taken to hit that bottom. For months after that I didn't even want to live. Or get out of bed Things slowly got easier. I stayed busy. Got involved. And some how have been clean for almost 2 years. That little girl I walked away from loves me so much. I am a dad today, I am getting married. I have a home. And a job. I'm slowly finding peace. By trying to live today not just for myself but for him. And for all my friends that have died from addiction. I've been to funerals with only 6 people there because of the wreckage that has been caused. A Paul bearer for someone I never knew. Addiction is real and people are dying. I don't know why I didn't. I don't know if anyone will actually read this but I needed to get it out. I don't share my whole story very often. My responsibly ways heavy even today. If your struggling hang in there. There is peace and there is freedom. I've spent years locked up. But I spent way longer a prisoner to my addiction. I don't go into a room full of people and feel alone anymore. RIP PVT. M.P.