After my father’s death, everything in my life seemed to lose its meaning. The void that my father’s passing had created within me was too much to bear, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the feeling of despair. I became a shell of myself, constantly battling the demons that had haunted me for years. I told Alonzo I needed a break from the Bud and Roach Show, and needed time to get my mind right again. S. Street Media had become my new safe haven, a place where I could escape from the outside world and bury myself in work. But as the days passed, even the comfort of my second home couldn’t keep the darkness at bay. I would sit alone in the studio, staring blankly at the computer screen, sipping on a bottles of Hennessy. The quiet hum of the air conditioning was the only sound that could be heard, the silence a reflection of my inner turmoil. The cognac burned my throat as it went down, but the pain was nothing compared to the numbness that had taken over my body. I was drowning in a sea of alcohol, the waves of grief and regret crashing against me without mercy. I thought about all the things I could have done differently, all the times I had let my father down. The weight of my guilt was too much to bear. The realization that I had lost 3 people, Nicole, my sister Angie, and my dad, in a matter of 6 years would drown me in a sea of sorrow. The bottle was almost empty now, and the liquid inside was the only thing that made sense in my world. I knew I was on a dangerous path, but the thought of sobriety was nowhere within my sights. The alcohol had become my only friend, my only solace. Without it, I didn’t know who I was. I took another swig from the bottle, and let out a deep sigh. The booze had begun to take its toll, and the world was slowly fading away. I closed my eyes and let the darkness take over, the weight of my grief too heavy to carry any longer.

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