Hi I'm Michael Morrison, I Live in Jacksonville Florida. I'm 30 years old an have no kids or a wife. I would like to dedicate myself to helping others. I understand how some people might need help with life or just a friend to talk to maybe. I feel like I've been cast off to the wayside. Ten Years ago I moved Back to Jacksonville. My Best friend had died of cancer and i chose to drink away my problems. This Binder Equated into me getting a DUI and also losing my relationship i had at the time with girl i really had a future with. My lease was coming up soon and my dad was in terrible financial and physical shape. My sister was taking his credit cards and running up the bills at fancy places to eat and drink. So i moved back home to put a stop to the partying and try to fix what had been broken. I left my Job, packed up all my things and headed to Jacksonville thinking i was doing what was in the best interests of my family. When i got to Jacksonville, it took 8 months for me to finally land a job. I was so desperate that i told the owner of the company i would work for free(because i knew if i did he would hire me, I'm a Hard worker). Well he did hire me and i finally was able to start helping out with bills. I tried to figure out how we would fix my dads credit but eventually his credit card APR went to 30 percent and i couldn't figure out how to manage it all and we stopped paying on them. Eventually we hired a lawyer to file Bankruptcy but we couldn't afford it. My dad and I gave 500 dollars as a retainer to a lawyer we could never use because we didn't have enough money to finish paying off the the rest. It struck me as ironic, not even enough money to go bankrupt. Up to this point i never really had an addiction to anything although by this point i should have realized i wasn't very good with alcohol and therefore would not be good with other substances, but i didn't. I started taking pain pills, it seemed like the thing to do, Everyone in my family was getting them prescribed to them and all my friends and everything liked them it almost seemed normal and not normal if i didn't take them. I started out just taking them whenever but it escalated into me taking them and on the days i didn't i just stayed home and felt sick. Eventually it got to even the days i did take them i mostly stayed home. I would go to the grocery store and make a quick meal for my dad not even that well cooked because i would usually go lay down until i felt the food needed to be flipped. My Brother came to live with us and his girlfriend too. They were Both addicts, My brother had lost his house and a nice business he built for himself, he mostly stayed home too. His girlfriend had lost her Kids when police found drugs in her car. I was friends with his girlfriend at one point but i hated them both for what they had become, little did I know it wouldn't be long for me and i would also hate myself. That day didn't take long either, at least it didn't seem to. I Started Injecting myself with pills because well i had seen My brother do it for so long. It pained me and i wanted him to stop or slow down but i never seemed to be able to find the words that would make him quit. When I started Injecting myself it was clear he didn't approve but what could he do, he set the example. so we all used drugs, my Dad being the only one who used them in accordance with the law. At this point my dad had been taking Morphine from the Va for seven years and even had to move to a different doctor and had to pay for his medicine out of pocket because he was refused by his doctor. Later it seemed like the Va did a sort of house cleaning trying to get Vietnam vets to move out maybe so they might have room for Iraq soldiers or maybe just to save money. He was definitely discriminated against and treated unfairly but what could we do? After years of living like this, me keeping my distance hardly associating with the people in my household, I was alerted that my brother was dead. His Girlfriend was crying and came to tell me in my room, I hoped off my bed and ran to my brother performing CPR and all the while thinking am i just too late? would i even want him to come back to life to be brain damaged. Letting him go was hard but it was something i just had to do with the paramedics got there i stopped CPR but they didn't really begin it I'm not sure what the reasons or how they came to conclude that CPR wasn't going to work, but it seemed like they concluded that, even though i wanted them to do CPR. That Day I had to tell my mom and my dad that their son had died. My mom came straight over, although i think i saw her about once a year up to this point, she came straight over. I told the police it was more than likely a drug overdose he had been completely high for three days straight. I'm not sure of the days after Walt's death, I'm not sure what i can remember about it at this moment, but I know my dad and my mom were deeply heartbroken. My mom decided she would Marchman Act me in the months to come while my dad hung onto life. A Marchman Act basically is a way to have someone forced into rehab if the court finds its needed. My dad didn't last long withing three months of my brothers death he passed away. He was taking to the Hospital when my sister got him to take double his medication without me knowing and when i noticed him acting differently i asked if he wanted to go to the hospital and he said yes. When the Paramedics showed up and gave him Narc-an we figured out that was the reason but they said they had to take him to the hospital because i called. My dad weighed around 500 pounds and with him being in his condition you might be able to imagine why I thought It best to wait, however reluctantly i helped the fireman to get my dad out the front door at one point my dad was falling and they just kind of took their hands off of him while i clung on and he fell on top of me me purposely putting my foot under him because the floor was so hard and i wanted desperately to keep him from internal bleeding. He was on blood thinners and was told if he fell he could die. They took him to the hospital and the next day i was there when they were going to surgery. When i asked what was going on they told me that they wanted to put a pic line in and that the wanted to put my dad on a ventilator. They also took him off every medication he had been on. I protested saying my dads oxygen levels are 100 percent on the monitor and( being a intravenous drug user i know how fast medicine could be administered with an IV). After pleading with the doctor i asked her if my dad had been giving any drugs and she said no i asked her again if they had given him any medication at all and she said no. I'm quite certain that was a lie and based on that lie i gave my consent. My dad appeared to be in a coma. This was moments away from surgery she lied so that i would okay unnecessary treatment to my father. They also lied to me and told me they would give him medicine to wipe his memory while they put him in a coma. When my dad eventually woke up he said he could remember all of it and desperately wanted to get out of there. He told me he could leave if he wanted to but after talking with the nurse on duty they told because of the breathing tube i would have to wait 24 hours to take him home. I realize now that was also a lie and i couldn't taking him that night. When i arrived the next day to take him home the breathing tubes were back in. I asked why and couldn't get a straight answer. I would have to wait until the next time they felt like taking my dad off the machine. That day never came and i eventually got a phone call my dad had past. I didn't understand because they had him on a machine breathing for him. I'm still unsure of what happened In the last moments and it didn't matter to me. My Dad was dead. I became sad and angry and felt cheated out of having more time with my dad. I mean wouldn't it have been better to be able to talk to him while he was in the hospital? would he have even died if the didn't put him in a coma and put him on a breathing machine? I just felt lost and alone. I went on with life the best i could using drugs and trying to keep my mind off things. I didn't make it to my dads memorial because the ride i was getting was from a friend i was getting drugs for. when he got screwed over so did I, I didn't make it to my dads Memorial. By this time the house was delinquent with taxes, it had a lien on it for people having to come out and clean up the yard and it was in an upside down mortgage because my dad remortgaged the house when my brother got in trouble to pay for legal fees. he remodeled the kitchen too but it was never finished and didn't come out well. i was losing the house. I was served papers for foreclosure and also for Marchman act. While my dad was in the Hospital i went and was very honest with the lady that recommended in treatment meaning i would have to live in a government place, a rehab, to get off drugs. I informed her that my dad was in the hospital clinging onto life and there was no way this could happen or would happen while my dad was in his condition. It didn't, he passed away before i was ordered to go to rehab. I went to Rehab and ended up staying 77 days. While i was in rehab my house was taking over everything i owned was put outside into a hole. Eventually it was even set on fire. When i got out I had nothing my house had no electricity but people staying there. The kind that doesn't pay. my paying tenants were kicked out by the non payers because well the non payers needed a free place to stay and having a free place to stay wasn't good enough for them to not ruin every last personal thing i owned...Don't you just love family? Fast forward a few years and we wind up here where i am today. Im living with my mom in danger of being kicked out by every passing moment, totally off drugs but finding it difficult to really get a bearing on things and find my way. I am trying to get my licence back and eventually get a car every else seems to be doing so good and I'm not. Please help if you can. I feel bad for writing as much as i did if you want to know more of me feel free to email me. Maybe we can skype or something.