I’ve done a lot of crazy, dangerous , reckless and weird things. I’ve experienced a lot of that as well. Nobody would be able to guess anything I’ve done if you met me. I’m quiet and reserved. I feel sometimes that I’m not sure who I really am because it’s too complex for me to grasp. I am not entirely sure of what I’m capable of and have continuously pushed that envelope.

A Glimpse of some of my weird life experiences:

I suffered from severe mental illness and psychosis in my early 29’s which really changed my course and was a culmination of what I think is all of me. But also, it wasn’t really me either. I have been in handcuffs dozens of times, I’ve done nearly every popular drug except heroin and meth. I took police on a chase after stealing gas, bashing cars out of my way to escape only to end up stuck teetering on railroad tracks. I wrote a book about my experience with mental illness and my victory over it, at least so far.
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I’ve had police pull out their guns on me multiple times. I have sought out danger and trouble and the opposite. I bought crack in the ghettos of Chicago while looking like a lanky tall white guy with dorky 1980’s style glasses. I’ve hung out with prostitutes looking for a high the same as me (yes, just hung out). I’ve gotten robbed in the ghetto trying to buy drugs, I’ve hung out and partied with low level gang bangers, as well as some mildly famous people, athletes and millionaires.

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I took someone hostage who must’ve weighed twice as much as me in a mental ward in a bid to escape, I ended up getting tackled by the team of nurses and the guy I tackled showed up to the ward with a cast the next day. I’ve gotten into bar fights, in jail I stayed in solitary confinement in a cell directly next to a notorious child killer. I dropped out of college, but played basketball as bad football with ex NCAA div 1 basketball players who absolutely lit me up but I was a decent player nonetheless. I once tackled a 350lb semi pro football player from Canada. He was a lineman but in the game I played against him they used him as a running back because he was so huge and hard to tackle. He was slow but breaking tackles, I was able to run full speed at him from the other side of the field and hit him as hard as I could. I’ve weighed 180-190 lbs my whole full grown life and I’m 6’2. I’ve gotten bullied in school for being skinny and abused verbally and physically by my otherwise loving but crazy ass old school dad who was old enough to be my grandpa and grew up in the Great Depression.

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I’m the youngest of 14 half brothers and half sisters. One of which is mentally handicapped, one died in Vietnam so I never got to meet him, and another ran for mayor of Chicago against Harold Washington as a democrat and never had a chance. He was murdered in the city a few years later for possibly being gay. I have subsequently disowned my family after Jan 6th as they ended up being fascist traitors to our democracy who continued to support trump, and as such, fascism. One of my older cousins was a populist who smuggled drugs into Miami for the Medellin cartel and had ties with Manuel Noriega and Pablo Escobar somehow. I met him and he was actually a great guy.

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I was a kid in the back seat of my parents yellow station wagon headed home going about 45 mph and suddenly got violently rear ended. My glasses flew off and we swerved down the road but my dad regained control pretty quick.

Before I knew what was going on we were making a U-turn over the grassy median that separated the highway and my dad was flooring it. I was scared. My dad caught up next to the guy that hit us, apparently he was making a run for it. My dad told my mom to give him his gun, which scared me even more, luckily she said he didn’t bring it. Flustered, my dad rolled down the window and yelled to the guy that hit us “PULL OVER OR ILL BLOW YOUR GODDAMN HEAD OFF”. The guy looked at my furious dad. Granted we were going about 60-80 mph but my dad worked in a loud ass steel mill and literally had the loudest voice I ever heard, he spent all day or night yelling at people instead of talking because the steel mill was a noisy place. The guy slowed down and pulled over, got out of his truck and started walking aimlessly in a harvested corn field. My dad went to the nearest business to call the police.

Turns out the guy was drunk and had no insurance. The next part of this story I remember was my dad bringing me with him to confront this guy at his trailer park home. He had his gun hanging out his pocket when he told me to go with him, which I think he brought me to let the guy know he doesn’t want any trouble because he has his kid with him, but on the other hand, here’s a gun in plain view that will blow off your goddamn head. I guess my dad got the money issued resolved, I don’t know, but that whole sequence of events was not fun.

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The first time I really gambled I was high on coke with someone showing me how to play blackjack that I met through a mutual friend that night. I don a bunch of money, he lost all of his. We were up all night til daylight. He begged me for more money, but he lost way too much already. Leaving the casino was like hell, seeing the sun and hearing birds while crashing down from a huge cocaine high.

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I’m a fucking animal. Once I went out by myself to the city to party, I ended up getting so drunk I forgot where I parked my car. In order to not wonder the streets anymore I went back into a bar desperate to find someone to fuck, and it had to be at her place. Pretty sure I spent most of my money at that point, so I was desperate. I found a girl, and was hitting on her pretty good while playing pool, but her friend was flirting with me more, so I directed my focus on her. I really angered the other girl and she became visibility upset, but I needed a sure thing. She took me home, and luckily knew someone who had a car because she didn’t. My plan worked, the next morning she drove me around in her friends car to find my truck.

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I once went to the Israeli consulate in downtown Chicago to tell them I was the messiah. When I first went there, I had a red hoodie on that I wrote all sorts of religious symbols in black marker on it. They did not let me in. I went home back in Indiana to get my suit on and headed back. This time they let me in. I was in a beautiful room and waited for somebody. I don’t remember exactly what I said but I know I told him I was the Messiah and I could prove it with markings on my chest. He dealt with me very calmly and was able to accept what I was saying enough to dismiss me without any issue or apparently an understanding from me what happened, but I don’t remember. Anyways on the way home two identical new white cars passed me on the expressway going at least 100mph after I seen them in my rear view mirror. No idea if that’s related but there was other traffic as well.

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I’m a professional who nearly makes 6 figures doing production scheduling and planning for manufacturers. I have experience in operations management and typically push everyone for process improvements, and consistently get very good raises and bonuses. I’m married (for 18 years) and have two children, they helped save me from mental illness and my wife has been the reason I have gotten my life together. I feel I’m always pushing my limits… even still.