(Not) Alone
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About this ebook
(Not) Alone is the story of Henry Hovishky, a recent college graduate who is exploring life one step at a time. Already in his young career, he is the winner of multiple awards and recognitions. He is soon to be married to the girl of his dreams. His best friends are more than friends, they're family. His family supports him and raises him up.
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(Not) Alone - Tyler Wittkofsky
(Not) Alone
Tyler Wittkofsky
image-placeholderTea With Coffee Media
Copyright © 2019 by Tyler Wittkofsky
Cover and Internal Design © 2022 by Tea With Coffee Media
Internal Images © Kelsey Anne Lovelady via Canva and Gimp
Tea With Coffee Media and the colophon are trademarks of Tea With Coffee Media
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Published by Tea With Coffee Media
teawithcoffee.media
Warning
By shedding a light on the difficult topics depicted in the following stories, my hope is that this book can help readers start a conversation about their struggles with mental health issues. I also hope to help others realize the struggle those with mental health issues go through and allow them to better help those in their life who may struggle.
If you are struggling with these issues yourself, this book may include triggering events and moments. You may want to consider reading it with your safe person.
I encourage struggling readers to reach out to a parent, friend, school counselor, an adult they trust, your safe person.
image-placeholderDedication
For Grandy,
This second edition of (Not) Alone
is a tribute to your unending wisdom, your unwavering strength, and the unconditional love you bestowed upon me. You were my guiding star, my moral compass, my fortress in times of despair. You taught me to embrace strength in vulnerability and to never shy away from being my authentic self.
Your departure in April 2023 left a void that words can't fill, yet your spirit continues to guide me. You were more than a grandfather; you were my mentor, my best friend, my idol. You showed me that we are never alone, even in our darkest hours.
In your memory, I strive to carry on your legacy of kindness, empathy, and resilience. This book is not just a testament to my journey, but a reflection of the lessons you taught me, the values you instilled in me, and the love you showered upon me.
Your life was a beacon of hope, and your memory a wellspring of inspiration. This book, Grandy, is for you. Your spirit lives on within these pages and within my heart, forever.
Acknowledgements
In this second edition of (Not) Alone, it is with deep gratitude that I extend my heartfelt thanks to those who have been instrumental in the journey of its creation. Firstly, my beloved MaMa, who sowed the seed of this book in my heart with her simple yet profound request: write me a story. Your faith in my ability to write has been the wind beneath my wings.
To my mom and Ben, my guiding lights through the stormiest of nights, your unwavering support has been my sanctuary. Justin and Erin, your ceaseless dedication, consistent support, and belief in me have been invaluable. Your keen eyes and kind critiques have been instrumental in shaping my work.
The laughter and love shared with my dad and siblings have brought sunshine to my cloudiest days. Despite our differences, the bond we share is an eternal beacon of hope and happiness.
Matt, your guidance during my formative years has instilled in me the courage to truly embrace who I am. To Taylor, your sisterly love and unwavering support have been my lifeline.
I hope this book serves as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and inspires all my nieces and nephews to face life's adversities with courage and determination.
Gracie, my dearest wife, your steadfast love and support have been my anchor amidst the tumultuous sea of life. Your keen insights and unwavering belief in me have been a guiding light throughout this journey. You've been my first reader, my toughest critic, and my biggest fan, and for that, I am immensely grateful.
To everyone who has been a part of this journey, thank you. Your love, support, and belief have breathed life into these pages. This book is not just my story, but yours too. In it, you will find echoes of your strength and resilience, reminding you that no matter how daunting the storm, you are not alone.
Contents
Part 0
1.Henry Hovisky - Present Day
Part 1
2.Michelle & Joe West - Five Years Ago
Part 2
3.Wanda & George Hare - Four Year Ago
Part 3
4.Leonard Hovishky - Three Years Ago
Part 4
5.Thomas Clark& Bella Morgan - Two Years Ago
Part 5
6.Abby Childe - One Year Ago
Part 6
7.Dutch - Present Day
Author Bio
image-placeholderHenry Hovisky - Present Day
As he took his last draw off an already burnt out cigarette and sipped the last bit of vodka and cranberry off the ice in his glass, Henry Hovishky got up to go inside for the night. He felt the cool breeze of the night flow across his face. His high and tight haircut and short and tapered beard held no protection from the cold. He felt a chill run down his short, stocky body. Shivering, he blew into his hands to warm himself, but to no avail. Henry had been outside on the porch for the better part of two hours, reflecting on his life up to this point.
He had graduated from college only three years ago, yet he had already made waves in the community. He started off as a part-time financial planner and quickly moved up into a full-time job as the chief financial officer for a nationwide pharmaceutical development company. Recently, he had been named Young Professional of the Year by three different organizations around his community. He served on nonprofit boards, and was well respected by nearly everyone in the community. His life had, seemingly, been a success.
He was successful now—building a house for his fiancé and himself and working his dream job. He had two of the best friends anyone could ask for, and a loving and supportive family. But it hadn’t been an easy journey. He had battled mental health issues for going on seventeen years now, undiagnosed until five years ago. He always knew he was different as a kid, but never knew how. His constant feelings of sadness, his frequent moments of pain, his desire-turned-obsession to have everything JUST right, his angry outbursts—it all made sense when he was diagnosed.
He suffered from several mental health issues, including severe anxiety, bipolar disorder, and depression. It was a lot for one person to deal with, and he had fought through it with pills and alcohol to numb the pain and ease the worry. He fought through it without anyone, with no one understanding what was going on. He fought through it with thoughts of suicide to stop hurting. Through all the fighting, he came out alive with only a few battle scars.
As he opened the door to go inside, he heard the pitter-patter of his dog Dutch coming around the corner. Dutch was a beautiful mix with the muscular body, cedarwood coloring, and curled tail of a German Shepard. He had the best innocent puppy dog eyes and held a set of strong legs reminiscent of a lab. Dutch looked up at him, his tail wagging, his spotted tongue stuck out, and a dog’s version of a smile creeping around his mouth. He ran out the door, past Henry, and took a long stretch, shaping his body like a crescent moon.
The night sky looked like Las Vegas at midnight—dark, but full of life. The sky was pitch black, but the stars twinkled like lightning bugs flying through the sky. It was a perfect night, and he had taken the next day off work. Henry closed the door, turned around, and sat back down in his chair.
He grabbed the bottle of vodka and cranberry juice he kept in the freezer outside and refilled his glass to the brim. Another cigarette set between his lips, he lit the single cigarette from his lonesome pack, the embers shining among the stars. Dutch came back onto the porch and curled up at Henry’s feet. Again, he reflected on his life and his journey. The journey of his battles, his bouts, and the life he lived.
image-placeholderMichelle & Joe West - Five Years Ago
Henry walked out the glass door of his doctor’s office, the sun blinding him as he stepped onto the concrete. He hated going to the doctor’s office. It was dark and smelled of sickness. The somber mood that always seemed to lurk in the waiting room made Henry’s anxiety soar.
He stood there for a minute with his hand shielding his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the bright, beautiful day from the dim and poorly lit doctor’s office. He walked to a candy red Ford Mustang, opened the door, and slowly fell into the driver’s seat. Between deep gulfs of air, he rested his head against the steering wheel. His mind was racing with a thousand different thoughts as he tried to find the words to describe how he felt.
I can’t believe it, Henry thought to himself, grabbing his right shoulder. I just can’t believe it.
He picked up his phone and looked down at the picture of his favorite athlete, David Ortiz, staring back at him. I bet you didn’t have to deal with this kind of shit,
he said aloud as he went to his recent calls. Once he found the contact he was looking for—a contact whose number he should know by heart—he dialed the number.
Hello?
a beautiful, soothing woman’s voice sang through the other end of the phone.
Mom, it's Henry.
Michelle West was a beautiful woman with long dark hair in her late thirties. She had been the lighthouse through his stormy life, guiding him through the rough sea to try and bring him to shore. I’m leaving the doctor’s office,
he finished.
Well, sweetie, what did they say?
I don’t understand,
he quietly said into the phone.
Michelle recognized his tone of despair and responded, Henry, what’s wrong? What did they say?
Mom, I just don’t get it. It’s not fair. It’s not fair!
he exclaimed.
You have to talk to me,
Michelle begged Henry. Tell me what’s going on.
Henry took a deep breath. He was trying to find words again, not knowing what to say. He had this problem for nearly his entire life. When push came to shove, he struggled to find the words he needed to say. People often thought he was cold or emotionless, but he simply lost the words when his emotions hit him like a snow flurry.
They told me I have a whole lot of issues. Issues that people shouldn’t have to deal with. Things that just make me feel… awful,
Henry finally managed to say.
What kind of issues?
Anxiety, bipolar, depression, just to name a few of the possibilities. I’m not normal, Mom,
he sighed into the phone. "I’m not a normal person. I’m a freak. I’m going to have to be on medicine for the rest of my life to try and be normal!"
Henry, you are NOT a freak,
Michelle emphasized, the pain in her voice ringing through Henry’s ears. Nobody is normal in this world. Nobody is perfect. There is no such thing as ‘normal.’
Maybe you’re right,
he confessed. "But I’m so full of issues, they could put me on the cover of Time Magazine! It explains why I am the way I am, why I have always been sad, angry, and just plain crazy."
You aren’t crazy, honey,
Michelle said, her voice breaking slightly. You’re unique, you were built by God to be a warrior. He wanted you to be able to fight these battles and rise up on the other side to show the world your strength. You know I love you, and I always will.
Henry’s mom always knew what to say. Somehow, someway, she could ease the pain and lift the burden that would settle on his shoulders. He reached to his right shoulder and put his hand on the tattoo he got for his mom, a lighthouse with waves crashing around it to form a heart. Sometimes, to calm himself down, he would close his eyes, grab that shoulder, and remember her and all that she had done to help him get where he was.
Thank you, Mom. I love you,