When I write my bitter truth here, hopefully no one else will have to live it.

Writing does not bring my money back.

It does not remove the debt.

But it makes the pain a little lighter.

Sometimes I wonder if I should have hidden everything.

Hidden my losses.

Hidden that my pocket was empty.

Hidden that I felt alone.

Maintained my image.

Maintained my place in the community.

Maybe people respect success more than honesty.

Maybe they prefer the illusion that everything is fine.

I am 54 years old.

I have been respected.

I have been ignored.

I have even become a joke to some people.

But I decided to tell the truth anyway.

Not because it is comfortable.

Because someone reading this today may be suffering in silence and believe they are the only one.

They are not.

And neither am I.