On my 29th year, when my first wife and I broke up, I had just lost my job because of a back injury. I had no insurance, no welfare, no nothing - and more importantly, no family to turn to.
A couple of old friends who had moved to Quebec City heard word of my mishap and came pick me up, helped me pack my stuff (that is, 2 guitars, a PC, my cd's and a bag full of clothes) and offered me a room at their place.
The "room" was actually more like a walk in - 6.5 x 10 at most. No window. I remember waking up w/ water dripping on my face from the ceiling the first morning, looking around me - no furniture but the old mattress on the floor and a little low table to put my pc w/ a cushion to sit on.
Everything was just so ugly. And it was like I was finally hitting rock bottom. A mixture of pain and relief.
I lived in that room for 2 years. One of the friends lent me a bit of money, another one helped me find a job, and they made sure I had an actual meal every now and then.
And you know what? I have fond memories of that place. I rarely got out of there except to go to work. Of course, I eventually re-arranged it and got furniture. That's where I totally re-invented myself. Wasn't easy, but I'm proud I made it through - and eternally grateful to those friends.