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#21 (permalink) |
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Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: Michigan's Middle Finger
Posts: 693
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Two years ago was the year of hell. My wife and I had decided to try to have another child. She became pregnant around January. We lost the baby three months later. This led to two more misscarraiges within a year. We finally have another one on the way. It's lasted 5 months, and it's kicking like Pele in her stomach, even more so than our son had.
If that wasn't enough, I was supposed to graduate in the semester the first misscarraige happened. I might have still, if I didn't contract an insane ear infection that left me lying down for two weeks. Needless to say, I failed that semester, and with Financial Aid exhausted, I wasn't able to start classes again until this semester. The second misscarraige led to my dismissal from work, which I wasn't able to get another job for 8 months after. (Oh, and for a little humor. My roof sprung a leak right over my computer desk. We came home from a party, and the computer screen was flashing red like it was Star Trek. Another $500 for a cheap computer and $500 for fixing the roof. Shit, we just got this house!) Okay, that's enough of my whining for now. Edit: Mali: I agree with Deuce completely on his point (Can't believe I'm saying that). I don't know what happened between you and your dad, but if he's dying, you might want to think about seeing him one last time. If you don't you may regret it. Also, your fear is my biggest fear also (and probably most parent's biggest fear). However, the way I hear you talk about your son (when you talk about him, that is), I don't think you have to worry about that.
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ベンジタ Moral Number 4: The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind. Except in New Jersey, where what's blowing in the wind smells funny. http://twitter.com/benjitathesane http://www.facebook.com/benjitathesane Last edited by benjita; 05-25-2006 at 02:49 PM. |
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#22 (permalink) | |
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Join Date: Nov 2005
Posts: 936
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Quote:
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#23 (permalink) | |
Senior Member
Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: all around the world..same song
Posts: 1,281
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Sorry but I got a bunch of sob stories
Its been a horrible few years so much so that one post cant possibly cover how many people I know who have been affected by terror attacks.
Background: I dated this chick from Haifa. I met her when I was down in Eilat. She was a school teacher. She was a great lay. Also she was a sweetheart and one of the more caring people I ever met...(although she don't care too much about da deuce anymore). Anyway, I had the opportunity to watch her teach on several occasions and interact with some of her students. One of whom immediately struck a chord with me. He was a cool kid. I remember after meeting him briefly, I was impressed with how that little man conducted himself. He seemed to broadcast this incredible energy...13 years old....may his memory be blessed. -(side note: thanks to this thread I have been crying all day)- ![]() ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- March 5, 2003 - Haifa, Israel - #37 Bus ![]() ![]() The bus was traveling on the city's main Moriah Boulevard near the Carmel Center, on the way to Haifa University, when the blast turned the bus into a charred wreck and scattered bodies along the road. The suicide bomber, who had boarded the bus, had the bomb strapped to his body, laden with metal shrapnel in order to maximize the number of injuries. A total of 17 people were killed and 53 injured. Yuval's father, Yossi, related how his son would phone him every day on his way home from the Reali School. "We were having a normal conversation," Yossi told a radio interviewer, "when suddenly he said, 'I love you, Dad.' In retrospect, those were his last words. The call was cut off." "He was a boy with great potential. He loved computer games, mathematics, wall climbing, he joined a hiking club, he was a good student at Reali, he loved to help others... [His death] is like a black ink stain spreading over your consciousness; a black hole that will never be filled." Yuval Mendellevich and Avigail Leitel, also killed in the bombing, had been part of the Children Teaching Children program at Jewish-Arab Center for Peace at Givat Haviva since last September - a program that teaches pluralism, tolerance and coexistence. They and their classmates were preparing for the upcoming encounter with Arab youth from a neighboring town in just a few days. The encounter will be dedicated to their memory. ![]() Hamas spokesman Abdel Aziz Rantisi praised the attack but did not claim responsibility. The suicide bomber has been identified as Mahmoud Amadan Salim Kawasme, 20, member of Hamas and a computer student from the Hebron Polytechnic Institute. A letter found on his body praised the 9/11 attacks on the Twin Towers: Quote:
Last edited by deuce; 05-29-2006 at 04:11 AM. |
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Keith and The Girl is a free comedy talk show and podcast
Check out the recent shows
Click here to get Keith and The Girl free on iTunes.
Click here to get the podcast RSS feed. Click here to watch all the videos on our YouTube channel. |
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#25 (permalink) | |
Senior Member
Join Date: Nov 2005
Posts: 936
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Quote:
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#27 (permalink) | |
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Join Date: Aug 2005
Posts: 2,242
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Quote:
On a side note, man I just assumed you had quite a few stories to share. |
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#28 (permalink) |
Senior Member
Join Date: Dec 2005
Posts: 397
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My mom was diagnosed as a paranoid schitzophrenic when I was about 3, although she's always lived with us, she was practically an invalid up until I was about 11 or 12. It's so weird because she was always here but she was never all "there" and I don't really have any memories of her in my childhood, because she spent most of it sleeping, trying to temporarily ease the anguish of hearing voices. She had amnesia from the time she was 9 up until she was about 30, which is when I was 3, when she snapped out of it she didn't know who me or anyone else was. It was like someone else had been living her entire life, and now all of a sudden she's here and who is this man (my dad ) and these two kids ? Not long after she started hearing voices and was diagnosed with schitzophrenia. It's strange because she says she doesn't regret having us, but she always talks about how unfulfilling her life is. She suffers from depression also, but if you met her you wouldn't know any of this because she hides it so well. The only thing worse than knowing someone you care about is suffering, is pretending that everything is okay when you know it isn't.
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#29 (permalink) |
Senior Member
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: McMurdo Station
Posts: 1,461
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The Summer Of Tears.
It’s the dreamy part of my youth. I’m floating between sixteen and thirty. Too much excess, too much access, and zero guidance. Literature saved my life. It showed me a different way of thinking, of living. I’m madly in love with this girl. The fist true love of my life. But she’s falling for my friend and he likes her too. Joanie and I speak ever day. She tells me I’m her best friend, shredding me each time, giving me false hope that somehow our friendship will become much more. I’m obsessed with her the way only a love starved, driven man-child could be. Everything I do I do for her; each thought is tainted with echoes of her. I go to bed with her name on my lips and wake with her voice in my head. Years later I still love her. Love has many flavors. And so here I am, caught up in my own little fantasy world, ignoring everyone around me, focused solely on a girl I could never have. Then it happens. In front of me my parent’s marriage is coming apart, my brother is beginning a path that will destroy his life for years to come, my sister - an innocent - is seeing and feeling things that no child should ever. She will soon leave my life, her absence will wretch my heart with a pain I never want to know again. I come home from school to find my mother, in bed, crying, gasping, and my only thoughts are "Fuck, I’m supposed to see Joanie later." "What’s wrong?" I ask my mother. "I wanna die..." she cries. "I wanna die!" Hours later, I come home. My mother’s sedated, spending the night in the psychiatric ward on suicide watch. They made her drink charcoal. The phone rings and it’s Joanie. She’s crying. "My mother..." She tells me. "My mother was raped..." "Not tonight," I cry back into the phone. "Not tonight. Not tonight. Not tonight..."
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"That's me -- call me crazy, call me a pervert, but this is something I enjoy." - Boogie Nights Last edited by william; 12-24-2007 at 07:10 PM. Reason: Edited for Privacy |
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#30 (permalink) |
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Join Date: Feb 2006
Location: Madison, WI
Posts: 3,294
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I've had so many family members who've died that I don't expect to reach old age myself. In fact, there is no one in my extended family over the age of sixty.
--At the age of twelve my cousin accidentally hung himself in the bathroom as he attempted to re-create some stunt he'd seen in a horror film. My aunt and his sister found him. --My grandmother died of a stroke when I was six. --My father died of a heart attack on his 47th birthday. We found him sprawled in his easy chair when we got up to go to a celebratory brunch that morning. It had been his second heart attack in two weeks but instead of going to the doctor after the first one, he just stayed home from work claiming to be sick with the flu. --My grandfather died of a stroke when I was sixteen. He'd been in a VA hospital in West Virginia following an earlier stroke for some time and clearly had been hanging on in the hopes that his son, my father, would come out to see him. My father couldn't deal with that shit and never went, and my grandfather died shortly after finding out that his son had passed. --My mother's parents are both dead but I never met them because she left home at the age of seventeen and never spoke to them again. Her father was an abusive alcoholic and her mother (I believe) was an undiagnosed bi-polar. She didn't even go to their funerals, but I don't blame her. --My uncle (on my father's side) died of a massive coronary at the age of 29. --Another uncle nearly died after being taken to the hospital with meningitis. While he was there they discovered he had 80% blockage in his arteries and probably would have dropped dead of a massive heart attack within a year. He's alive today only because he came down with another dangerous illness! --My mom is now 54. When she recently made out her will with my step-father, it really freaked me out. People always ask me why I don't want to get married and have kids. Why the hell should I? I only have thirty-some odd years left! If this makes me sound depressive, I'm really not. I don't drink or smoke and try to take care of myself, and have pretty much accepted my bad family history. So I'm pretty content and happy with life, because I really enjoy what I have. That sounds really morbid I guess but the more you deal with death the less it messes with your mind, I think. |
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