I suppose my initial feeling was dread...actually I'd be lying if I said there still wasn't some residual feelings of that nature.
And since I crossed the state line I am constantly being reminded of every reason I have not been back until now.
Too poor to afford a facility...professional help. Too poor to afford much of anything really...save the essentials, and even those were in short supply at times. But things were still manageable back then. Not any more, not now.
I used to play here. Pretend I was somewhere...anywhere else. My dreams were big and not to be thwarted. I could not be stopped. Yet here I am back at square one. I know this not permanent. It's just a temporary set back. But I never thought I would be here again.
Its falling apart to say the least. It always was, but its some how managed to become more dilapidated than ever. The extensive junk collection litters the property. I feel like I've stepped into a junk yard.
