Thanks everyone.

I think I've been slowly moving toward mental health, or at least less paralyzed by fear and confusion. I was a real wreck when I left college in 86. I mean, sleeping indoors was optional to me and street drugs were pretty normal. I wasn't dangerous to anyone but myself, yet I couldn't deny my actions, though seemingly justified at the time, wouldn't have been anything I would have recomended to anyone, unless I was psychotic and delusional. I believe I was close, too close, to having a full break from reality. I thought civilization was heading in the wrong direction and therefore living the way I did was OK to me, only me. Though I still don't value money beyond it as a means to pay necessary bills, I'm not thinking about living off nuts and berries in the forest, at the moment.

I guess laughter would be mental health for me. A good, unashamed cry also. I still defend my soul like a momma bear defends her cubs, but I'm softening a bit with time.

Thanks.