I got out of prison on Thursday and I'm currently in a halfway house in a really bad neighborhood. While in prison I found God and it has changed my whole perspective on life. Now, as I sit here in a quiet room all my myself, I reflect on my life and what I've become. I sold drugs prior to prison and think about all the lives I've contributed to the destruction of. I think about the fact that I've become an addict and that getting high helps me hate myself less. I'm fighting to stay sober because I know it's what I should do. I haven't gotten high since leaving prison. The halfway house staff tells me I'm a good person but they really don't know me. I walk the streets at all hours because I believe subconsciously I'm trying to get killed, but it never fucking happens. For some reason God won't let me die. Instead I come across people in need. A broken down car that needs pushed, a homeless person begging, somebody who needs help carrying something. I always stop to help because my God would have me do for others as I would want them to do for me. Sitting here I am constantly overcome by a cold sensation that can't be staved off by any amount of layers. All the years in prison I thought surviving and getting out was going to be the hard part. But it's not. I've never felt like this in my life and to be completely honest, I'm so scared.