I wrote this when I first moved back home to California from Arizona. I was living in a shelter for 4 months, being an instant grandma to my 3 small granddaughters (ages 2, 2, and 7) and didn't know but one person who I met in the psych ward after a suicide attempt from my prescriptions whereafter I was then living in an SLE (sober living environment) and hating it, but loving being with my family again after being gone for 10 years. My husband visited from Arizona with a warrant and I was detoxing off benzos and opiates. I was very sick but so grateful to be free from meth. I just used doctors instead, legally. These days were new - before I moved up north with my daughter and she kicked me out to live in a little studio all alone. This is the promise "before" I became agoraphobic and alone without transportation or a husband living with me. I was so happy at first coming back home.