I started writing this book on my plane to Paris. I was sitting down on that chair extremely proud of myself. Taking myself to France was a gift I gave myself for enduring the flames of hell. I lived in it for a very long time, but I eventually got out of it, and it was not without a fight. You see, hell is furious that you are still alive. It does not understand how you've been able to survive 3rd degree burns. Hell is not your friend. Some people...