RIOT

<p>She pulls her stiff body up from the stony ground still clutching her tiny dog Leo in her arms. She's only 28 but she feels like 80 after sleeping under that bridge. It wasn't warm last night the winds howling down by Osoyoos Lake but all she needed was somewhere to hide out. The cops may well have forgotten about her by now and she could get back to her car (aka the red Caviar Can) and hit the road for another adventure.</p><p><br></p><p>Riot was a girl like most others. She got great grades participated in extracurriculars played all sorts of sports in school. She went on to university in hopes of molding young minds but the whole time she had been keeping a secret and she didn't even know it. Something deep in her body had been lurking and waiting to come out. Having no control she looked everywhere for guidance: to the wind the birds the infamous God that she saw all around her. She looked to booze and men and pot. She knew she'd been put here for a purpose yet everything began to feel purposeless.</p><p><br></p><p>Follow Riot as she meets a whole host of characters from the Hells Angels to the junkie under the bridge learning that it takes mere seconds to switch places with some of the least fortunate and a lifetime to learn to deal with it.</p><p><br></p><p>The following is a completely raw and honest recollection of Riot's journey with mental health. She would like you to remember that her journey affects your journey. We are all one world. And thus our stories unfold united at their core but oh so drastically different at the same time.</p><p><br></p><p>Be kind humans.</p>