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About Me

  1. So I went to the hospital at 2:30 AM. They gave me a 30mg shot of Toradol. That only reduced it a bit. They sent me home. I took 2 Tylenol 1 and got in bed at 5:45. I woke up before 7:30 screaming in pain. My husband took me back to the hospital. This time it was another dr. He said he is sure I have Trigeminal Neuralgia and gave me another shot of Toradol 60mg. He gave me 200 mg of carbamazepine . I have to take 400 mg a day. It is an anti seizure medication that will relax the nerve. And he have me hydromorhone 2 mg for pain. They have me lined up to see a specialist. Sorry I am not making much sense I am taking 2 medications which make you very very sleepy and confused.
  2. Ok all... this is a story I wrote mostly in my down time at work. I have all these characters that I've developed in my head over the years. Some of them are inspired by people I know in real life, others aren't. But lately I've been writing a lot about them interacting with each other in different ways. I know a few people read the story I posted last week about a 12 year old girl named Kimberly in a Psychiatrist's office waiting room. ( ) Well, the guy she was talking to is Kristian from this story. This is all part of a longer, story. I just want some feedback on this scene. I wanted to practice writing in third person omniscient point of view. It's not a POV I have much experience with. Please be brutally honest in your replies. If it sucks, tell me, but be constructive and tell me why. I love a good critique. Please feel free to rip me to pieces on this one is you feel it's necessary. I know it needs a lot of work. I'm pretty sure I fixed all the spelling/grammar/typing errors, but I apologize if I missed any. Also, I'm pretty sure I edited out all the cuss words. If I missed any, hopefully I won't get an infraction. ************************************ Val stood with her back to him, pouring water from a pitcher. Her long hair was down, flowing to her waist. It was that hair that first attracted him. She had come home from work happy today. Just minutes earlier she was laughing, telling him what some old man had said to her. He stood timidly, on the other side of the kitchen. He knew she didn't have much time before she had to go to work at her other job. As she turned around to face him he became aware of his own anxiety. He had already started to shake. "Val" he said softly. "Yea?" she smiled back at him. "I..." he stumbled over his words for a second, then took a deep breath, "I think we should break up." Her jaw dropped and the smile that had been on her face was replaced with an expression of bewilderment. She stood perfectly still, holding the glass of water. "Why? What is it now?" He looked down at the floor, unable to handle the site of her face right now, "It's nothing you did. And it's not that I don't love you." He was choking up, which made it hard to speak. "I just don't want you to suffer anymore." Her shock was replaced with anger, and her stillness with sudden movement. She sat her glass down on the counter, so hard that water splashed out of it. "I don't ing believe this." She stormed passed him and down the stairs. He followed. He didn't see her in the TV room, so he turned sharply into the bedroom, where she was pulling several articles of clothing out of the dresser and tossing them in a laundry basket. "What are you doing?" "What's it look like?" she gave a small sarcastic laugh, "I'm packing my and getting the hell out of here!" "Come on Val', please don't leave like this. I'm doing this for your own good." "I can't keep doing this Kristian. All this ing drama all the time. And just when I think it's all calmed down you pull something else. Why the hell can't you make up your mind?" As she was speaking she entered the bathroom and came out holding her toothbrush. "It's not that I can't make up my mind. My mind is made up. I can't keep hurting you." He took a few steps toward her and put his arms loosely around her waist. She noted the pallid look in his blue eyes and wondered if he was thinking straight. "Please don't make this harder than it has to be." "Get your hands off me!" she snapped, backing up. "You're asking me to not make this harder. Wow..." she shook her head in disbelief and continued adding things to her basket. She picked up the basket and charged past him, out of their bedroom and back up the stairs. He followed. "You don't have to leave." he called to her. "I'll leave." When he reached the top of the stairs he saw Tim coming in the door from work. Great, he thought, wondering if Tim was going to ignore this conflict or get in the middle of it. Neither would surprise him. "You know what kills me about this?" Val's loud voice interrupted his thought pattern. He didn't say anything. He stood at the top of the stairs waiting for her to finish. She was in front of him now, her green eyes full of fire and tears. "Five *beep*ing years! I supported you when you lost your job. And when you tried yo kill yourself I--" he voice faltered for a second as she choked back a determined sob. She took a deep breath, "When you tried to kill yourself I was at the hospital every ing day. And now that you've gotten help you're just dumping me!" He didn't have anything to say for himself. Tears were burning in his own eyes now and all he wanted to do was grab her and hold her. He noticed that Tim had left the room, thankfully. She picked up the basket of clothes from the chair where she had left it and pushed her way past him, back down the stairs. He followed again. He saw her go into the bedroom. He planned to follow her and try to speak to her rationally. But when he reached the bottom of the stairs she slammed the door shut. He could hear her crying from the other side of the door. He stood for a long moment, staring at the door, thinking what a mess he'd made of things this time. Eventually he heard muffled speech coming from inside the bedroom. "Hi Brenda, it's Val." ... "Hey, I'm really sorry to do this to you, but I can't come in tonight." ... "Just some at home I have to deal with." ... "You can get someone to cover for me right?" He felt awful. He knew how much she had called off from work when he was in the hospital. She was lucky to have such an understanding boss. "Alright, bye." He waited a half a minute or so and slowly opened the door. She was curled up on the bed, her red hair hiding her face like a funeral shroud. He walked accross the floor to the bed and touched her hair lightly. "Can we at least talk about this?" "I can't do this right now." she sniffled, "I'm too upset." "Do you think this is easy for me?", he said, "I don't want to lose you but I can't handle seeing you suffer anymore." "That should be my choice, not yours." She was still laying with her back to him, curled up. Her body was shaking. "Val, I'm sorry, I--" "Just get out." she said, "You said I could stay." He stood up slowly. She didn't turn to face him as he left the room. He felt nauseous as he left the bedroom and began climbing the stairs. The room seemed to be spinning. There was a trash can that Tim kept at the top of the stairs in the atrium. When he reached the top of the stairs he sat clumsily, grabbed it, and puked in it. Tim came into the atrium to see what was the matter. He watched, not knowing what to do. He entered the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel. He walked into the atrium and handed it to his friend. Tim had never been good at this sort of thing and had no idea what to say. Finally he spoke, "What'd you do this time?" Kristian looked up at him and rolled his eyes while wiping his mouth. He then stood swiftly and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. Tim stood for a second, "What the *beep* just happened here?" he thought to himself. The smell of vomit hit his nostrils. He immediately opened the door and sat the trash can outside. Kristian could take care of it later. It was his mess, after all. And Tim had cleaned up plenty of his messes over the years. Downstairs Val was still laying on the bed. The tears had stopped. She tried to convince herself that she'd cried herself dry and wouldn't cry anymore over him. But she knew deep down that wasn't true. She reminded herself that mental illness was not a get out of jail free card. She remembered all the times she defended his strange behavior, because "He can't help it. He's sick." But, she also helped him through every rough patch over the years. When her thoughts landed on the day he attempted suicide she felt a tug deep within her and her eyes began to burn again. No. She thought, I won't think about that right now. She stood up and walked into the bathroom. Her face in the mirror was haunting and ominous in the dim light. She flipped on the light and immediately noticed the redness in her eyes, and the stark, dark circles beneath them. Five years, she thought, everything he put her through, for nothing. She quickly grabbed her brush and ran it through her long red hair. She noticed all the blond hairs entangled in the brush with her own hair. He used this brush also. She turned on the cold water and splashed some on her face, then patted it dry with a towel. Her cell phone was on the table by the bed. She picked it up and dialed a familiar number. "Hello." the voice on the other end said. "Kali?" Val said, "Can you come over?" Kristian was two blocks from the house before he even gave a thought to where he was going. Alan's house was the most logical choice, even though Jay lived closer. He felt weak and anxious. He felt in the right pocket of his jeans and was so relieved he had his phone. How awkward would it have been to go back to the house after it? He called Alan. No answer. Figures. But he decided to head to the house anyway in hopes that Alan would be there with his ringer turned off. The taste of vomit was still lingering in his mouth. He tried not to think about that, among other things. For the last five years she was one of the few constants in his life. She really did keep him going for a long time. He wondered if she knew how grateful he was... how grateful he would always be. She slept in the hospital room for five nights in a row when he was in the ICU after his suicide attempt. Unfortunately he was too out of it to notice. Morphine mixed with who really knows what else made those days a haze. He had vague recollections of bright lights, nurses, and pain... but he didn't remember much else. Then came the psych ward... He was held there on an involuntary hold. He was considered a threat to himself and to others. He found it mildly amusing... how they could label him a threat while having no idea what he'd been through. All the hallucinations... white dogs, delusions, how did any of that make him a danger? He had never been a violent person. He was a danger to those around him in other ways. He knew this. The emotional pain he had caused Val alone could rival anyone in jail for domestic violence. His multiple assaults on her may have never left a single bruise, but the scars would never fully heal. His phone vibrated suddenly in his pocket, startling him out of his grim thought pattern. It was Alan, "Hello." "Hey bro, what'd you need?" He brushed long hair from his face as he spoke, "I need a place to sleep tonight." "Why? What happened?" "Val and I split up." "Again? Why?" He took a deep breath, "Because I'm crazy." Tim heard a car in the driveway, followed by footsteps on the porch and a light knock on the back door. He rounded the corner into the atrium and saw Kali standing outside, a bag in each hand. "Hey." he said, opening the door. "Hi." she said, stepping inside. "Is she downstairs?" "Yeah." "I got wine, Ben & Jerry's and scary movies." she smiled, holding up both bags. "I'm sure she'll appreciate that." "So do you think it's really over this time?" "Don't know." he said, scratching his head, "I don't know all the details." "He's a good guy and all, but he's a little bit nuts. Don't you think?" "Well he can't really help it. No one chooses to be nuts." "Yea but he keeps choosing to hurt my friend." she roles her eyes. "Maybe." She turned and headed down the stairs. It was getting dark when Kristian got to Alan's place. Alan had a Guinness ready for him when he went inside. "So what happened man?" he asked, concerned. Kali and Val had already killed a whole bottle of red Moscato and were on the second bottle. Tim could hear their voices and occasional laughter downstairs in the tv room. He debated on going down there and hanging out with them but figured it was a bad idea. He had to show some level of neutrality here, out of respect. They were both close friends. He had no idea where Kristian was, if he was coming back tonight or coming back at all for that matter. As much as he wanted to be loyal, he couldn't help but feel like a certain darkness and negativity were gone from the house. At least for now.
  3. About a week ago I got this little idea in my head and expect this to be a couple paragraphs of petic jibberish... But what came out of it was an actual story. People who know me well on here may have already seen it. But for those who hanve't, I thought I would share. This is only a first draft... I think there might be some grammar errors still, so sorry about that. She slept beside me... the diesel engine roaring beneath us. Her head was leaned back, face tilted ever so slightly toward me, one hand resting flat on the shirt I bought her... "You didn't have to do that." she said when I handed it to her. I turned the radio down... The Rolling Stones had been singing Paint It Black just seconds earlier... and now there was only silence. Neil Peart's drum solo made me wish I'd done more with my life... I wished a lot of things... One thing was that I would have pursued her when I had the chance. That was so long ago, nearly a decade. And here we were now, alone in my truck, driving down the highway in darkness. I glanced at her again... She looked, in some ways, like a sleeping child. Long tendrils of hair blew softly around her face, brushing her lips and closed eyes. My own long hair in my face annoyed me, but hers I found fascinating... it blew around her almost like smoke... The light made her skin look whiter than paper... and her lips appeared almost purple. She moved a little and my eyes suddenly were back on the road. I would need to stop soon, the fuel was getting low... Three exits ahead there would be a gas station. Slowly the inevitable happened... My eyes found their way back to her face. I wondered if she would notice if I touched her just once. I wrestled the idea in my head. What if she opened her eyes and caught me? Would she be embarrassed? Infuriated? Or maybe even intrigued...? I had a feeling she would wake up at the gas station. It had to be now or never. I slowly extended my hand, careful not to make too sudden a movement. There was a growing sense of anticipation in the second before I grazed her cheek with the tip of my index finger, and then again with the knuckle... Strands of her hair grabbed at my hand like tentacles in some Lovecraftian horror tale. Her skin was like warm, soft marble. Oh, was it hard to pull my hand away. I wanted to pull off to the side of the road and hit the brakes... and then tell her everything. I could see the gas station off in the distance, getting larger with every second. I slowed down to pull in, out of consideration for her. My efforts went in vain... The truck suddenly jerked and bounced over a bump, and laughter filled the air, the kind of high pitched, feminine laughter that could either be cute or annoying depending on the situation. At that particular moment, it was cute. I had seen this happen before... One other time she was startled awake and reacted with laughter. "You alright?" I asked, smiling at her. "Oh... yea I was just..." she giggled a little more, "I was just dreaming something really strange." "In a good way or a bad way?" "Neither... just in a weird way." the last of the laughter made it's way out of her... What was a dam bursting forth was now only a trickle. "You were there." She added. "I was ?" "Yea... in my dream." She brushed long strands of hair from her face... the same strands of hair that had been grabbing at my hand just moments ago. "I hope it wasn't a bad dream." I said, turning off the engine. My truck felt so small next to the three semis that were parked there. I heard the metallic clink of her undoing her seatbelt, followed by the door opening. "I'll be right back, I have to piss." For a second I considered telling her to be careful. You never know who could be lurking behind those semi trailers. I stopped myself... She’s an adult. I stood alone... gas pump in one hand... I remembered her face, twisted in agony just two weeks ago, when she got the news. I heard the crunching sound of gravel under tires, and her car barreled up the driveway... The slamming door and the rattle of keys, fallowed by panicked feet on the hard wood floor. I met her in the kitchen doorway, she spun around to face me, her hazel eyes bright with tears... “Where is he?” she asked... I felt like ice water had been poured down my throat... I told her what hospital they took him to. And just as quick as she came in, she was gone. “Hey!” a deep male voice jerked me from the memory and back to reality. He was walking frantically toward me. “Hey Bud.” he addressed me once again. I looked up but didn’t say anything. “‘Scuse me. I’m trying to get home to Cincinnati and I don’t have any money. Do you have any spare change?” He slurred. I handed him a dollar. He stumbled a little while taking it, and I caught a faint odor of Whiskey. “Oh, thank you sir. Jesus Loves you.” I nodded and told him “You’re welcome.” while silently wondering what Jesus thought of people who lie about being stranded in strange cities, just to get money to buy booze. Even at well after midnight, it was still so hot. I swiped my card at the pump, and became aware suddenly, of my own thirst. I made my way tiredly around the semis, toward the bright yellow and red store front. She was coming out right as I reached the door. “I need some water. Do you want anything?” “I think I could use a water too.” she said, digging in her pockets. I put out my hand in a kind of ‘stop that’ gesture. “I got it.” “Are you sure?” “Yes.” I said, and touched her hand. Our hands lingered in that position for less than a second. But I took the feeling of that skin with me as she walked off toward the truck. The memory of that day fought it’s way back into my head as I wandered under those fluorescent lights. I still could see the image, as plain as day, in my mind, of her in the driveway, face buried in the starting wheel, body heaving with sobs. I knew she needed to let it out. But at the same time I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked to the car and knocked on the window. She looked up at me through the glass and wiped her bloodshot eyes. Neither of us said a word. She seemed to be moving in slow motion while getting out of the car. And she felt so helpless when I took her in my arms. Since then, she spent almost every spare minute at the hospital. Tonight was her first escape since then. She told me she was putting the tickets up on ebay because she didn’t want to go without him. But he insisted on her going, even if it was with me. There were only a few moments during the concert that he wasn’t lingering in the back of my mind, one of them being Neil’s drum solo. And at the beginning of the 2112 Overture, when she screamed with excitement and grabbed me by the arm. A shot of electricity went through my entire body, and all I could think about was kissing her. I didn’t think of him then either. There was wrong... then there was wrong... then there was this. Walking out the door, two cold water bottles in my hands, I suddenly felt a vague echo of shame. As I approached the truck, I heard a familiar voice, a drunk slurring voice, attempting to be suave. “So, you like coming here to hang out with the truckers?” “That’s not why I’m here.” I heard her say nervously as I walked around the corner. She stood up against the truck, arms folded, looking down at the ground. And there was that drunk, standing over her with a hungry, horrifying look in his wild eyes. “Hey.” I called to him, “Get the hell away from her.” “I wasn’t doing nothing!” he defended. “Go spend your dollar and leave us alone.” I warned him. He cowered and slunk away. “You alright?” “Yea... He just scared me, that’s all. The truck doors were locked. He came out of nowhere.” “I’m sorry... I didn’t think to unlock the doors.” I unlocked the passenger side door with the keys and brushed my hand accross her back as she climbed up inside. “I wonder if he thought I was a truck stop hooker?” She said when we were back on the highway. “Why would he think that?” “I don’t know... because he was drunk.” She gave a little laugh “Not like he could have afforded me if I was.” “What was he going to pay you with? The dollar I gave him?” We both laughed briefly, and then were silent for a long time after. Suddenly she said, “Did you think about him tonight?” “Yea... Almost the whole time we were there.” “Me too.” I saw one single tear on her cheek, captured and lit up by the moonlight. “It’ll be alright.” I assured her. But I had no way of knowing. Twenty minutes passed before she was asleep again. She stirred in her sleep and curled herself up on the seat. The position looked uncomfortable, but she was too exhausted to care. And her head found it’s way onto my shoulder. I looked down at that face... the eyelashes so long they almost looked un natural. I kept one hand on the wheel, and put the other arm around her, brushing a wisp of hair out of her eyes. She gave a small sigh, and stirred a little. Her hair smelled vaguely like cinnamon. I kissed her forehead and cradled her against me, rubbing the top of her head. I wondered what strange dreams she was having, and if I was in them with her.
  4. I wrote this to someone who's been in the state hospital for a year and a half now (I was there for a year; she arrived a few months after I did). This is the first writing I've ever done that feels like a faithful portrayal of my heart. * * * For many years I've wallowed in a lonely misery When I finally buckled under the pressure of no life and no future, I resigned myself to utter defeat I believed that my mind was already molded and set There was no way out of my old habits and thought-patterns I'd suffer the rest of my life from precisely the same emotions, and worse, if I didn't kill myself Looking back, there is a significant change from who I was six months ago Physically and psychologically, perhaps even in the composition of my brain It's still hard to believe how far I've gone I was convinced I'd die alone in a mental hospital, of old age if not by suicide Jian-Marie has been the miracle in my life I declared that no one would ever love me for who I really was I'm glad she proved me wrong Every day is still a battle I have to face the same demons over and over - very real elements of my prison But as I told Jian-Marie, change is possible It takes a long time and hard work There are certainly times when things appear to fall apart and you're left at square one But this is partially an illusion You have the chance to go a little farther with each cycle of recovery - a little more experience to work with Each fall paradoxically gives you a clean slate You can use the slate to choose your own direction: Perhaps similar, or completely different from the one you had before You become stripped of the compulsion to uphold any false improvement This freedom allows a fresh look on life, free from any preconception of how it 'should' be Imagination can be an enormously enriching supplement in creating reality Allow yourself to dream To see things from a different perspective And apply what you wish to your own life See your life as a canvas: What will your next stroke be? Your life is irreplaceable Every experience you've had and will have is unique to your being Nothing can take that away from you Every moment, every day, you can mold your life, your experience Not always your moods and your thoughts But how you react once you have them This is self-transcendence: Seeing the richness of possibilities in this moment And reaching out; just try it: An unexpected twist in the ordinary trend of events You'll amaze yourself with what you find In other people, in yourself, beneath unturned rocks You will even find that you are more than one person; in fact, several people One of them is a girl yearning for love and understanding One of them a goddess of peace You don't have to be limited to the person you were yesterday Who you were today, who people think you are, or who you think you are Try thinking about the woman in you who will look back on her life sometime in the future Smiling at you Inexpressibly thankful that you survived long enough To give her a chance Every small step you take Is another neuron mended, another door opened It takes blind faith to complete the cycle Sometimes it's impossible to see how anything you do could possibly help But then, some of those decisions you make pay off at just the right time And suddenly you perceive the vast sea on which we float; That an untold number of those decisions did turn out for the better of tides, though you may never know exactly how If my writing intimidates you, and you wish you could write like I do, Just consider this: I would never be able to write anything without inspiration from people like you Everything that I've written Every beautiful sentence I've ever conceived Came from thinking about those very, very few special people in my life I am nothing without this wellspring of vitality It's what keeps me going, day in and day out This letter would never have been written If I hadn't met you If I hadn't somehow fallen in love with you So you see, you're constantly taking part in creation Even when you're absent minded; not intending on it I took those slips in your attention As opportunities for absorbing your presence, Yearning to take part in your beauty... Erin, I wrote this for you I wrote this because of you So many albums I've sent might as well have been sung for you I want to be for you what Mikaela is and has been for you Even if this comes to naught, Even if you decide you can't live in this world anymore I would respect your decision, forbearing all judgement I can't blame anyone for wanting out of this harsh existence Only be extremely sorry for their passing Hang on to memories, reverent of the extreme suffering they endured And try to keep holding on myself Making a difference wherever, whenever I can I want you to feel in the end that there were people who understood That you have a warm place in my heart As I write, I so badly want to see you again To hug you, take in your essence Gaze into your eyes If I had the chance I would lie next to you for days In your darkest hours Holding you close ~ Erik
  5. As Shane Koyczan would say... "The failing use of my right hand, is not actually the failing use of my right hand." I forget to make love to myself due to the fact my hand is cramped from writing, or typing. Here's a little diddy I wrote, that I don't want to go overlooked like almost all of my other work that I refuse to share... Enjoy. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Just Right -------------------------------------------------------------------------- These flashing lights amongst the pale spring night, I am wondering when everything ceased to be just right. There was an accident, a profoundly tragic incident. The victims involved were you and I. Now they're just waiting to see if we die with entrails around thighs... Looking at each other like lovers do for the first time, as if enjoying one final glass of wine; not remembering that stop sign... I mouth the words I love you. Luckily for us this might not be where our story ends, but the beginning of amends. As I lay there on my deathbed wishing for just one more chance, to tell you of romance. I’m brought into a trance. Back to the day I first looked upon your skin, your lips so fine and thin, wearing a suitable smile showing off their symmetry and revealing no denial. Your body language talking to me as if I was an Egyptian praising the red sea for the bountiful fish, I knew you were quite a dish... A real sexy plate of alfredo, daring me to say no. As I take my first glimpse of those eyes... The eyes that must have been equivalent to Shakespeare’s own Juliet’s, not glancing at me quite yet. No, not Juliet, I am looking upon divinity’s creation. What does she possibly see in me? When you finally looked my way, I did anything but stray. Those emerald beams now and forever will haunt each dream… Never in my life would I imagine blue and green so aligned, fixated on sharing a love divine, not just waiting in line for a chance to shine. You brushed your hair to the left, framing your face ever so picturesque; a portrait that would fixate a gaze through any haze, beyond metaphor or compare. Your hair defined the lines I would follow which would defy any stop sign, a curvaceous frame which already had well deserved fame, yet completely tame. I knew I was meant to be with this dame. You continued smiling my way, as if you were a child at play in the silky Alberta hay... You finally found the courage to speak; tightening this ship’s sail’s on a voyage that this boy wished was never ending. I will never forget this first word, like the first touch in foreplay... You said, “Hey”, as I walk over with a coy grin, an obvious ploy begins. Just then reverie escapes me, brought back to this reality. Surrounded by white, perhaps a light? I already knew something wasn’t quite right, was it still that night? I hear voices in the distance, and struggle to open my eyes for an instant. Surrounded by white, * * * * is it bright… I caught glimpse of the tiles far better suited to a bargain bin, with their power to erase smiles. As much as I wished for dissonance within this never ending consonance, I knew where I was. A place I knew where I would long to see your face, as much as I probably looked completely in disgrace… I was in the hospital. I couldn’t get you off of my mind, I attempted to shift and felt a grind. I scream in agony without the slightest hope of propriety. I hear rapid footsteps, and the sound of keys clashing… Thinking, “Probably the nurses dropping their purses”, I somehow grinned, although it felt thinned. “Are you awake, sir?” I groan, “Yes”, in recognition. I somehow knew I should have never inserted the key into the ignition… The injuries I sustained were being described, as I lay in distant disdain, looking at my own blood stain. I interrupt abruptly, “Where is my pearl, the girl?” I ask; a question that should have never escaped my lips. The news of your passing is forever relapsing. My body now mended, my heart forever torn asunder… I plunder into the depths of demise, misery apparent in my eyes. I refuse to believe this is where our story ends, unable to make amends. The fight that night… This is when everything ceased to be just right. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Jason Strauss I'd make a terrible author, I can only write things I personally like when I'm under the weather... Misery loves art, as I always say; or company.
  6. I didn't write this but thought it was a wonderful poem and wanted to share it with fellow ENAers. When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Tampa,Florida, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Missouri. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging accross the Internet. -Crabby Old Man- What do you see nur ses? ..What do you see? What are you thinking.....when you're looking at me? A crabby old man, ...not very wise, Uncertain of habit ........with faraway eyes? Who dribbles his food.......and makes no reply. When you say in a loud voice.....'I do wish you'd try!' Who seems not to notice ......the things that you do. And forever is losing .......... A sock or shoe? Who, resisting or not...........lets you do as you will, With bathing and feeding .... The long day to fill? Is that what you're thinking? ... Is that what you see? Then open your eyes, nurse......you're not looking at me. I'll tell you who I am ......... As I sit here so still, As I do at your bidding, .....as I eat at your will. I'm a small child of Ten.......with a father and mother, Brothers and sisters .........who love one another A young boy of Sixteen ..with wings on his feet Dreaming that soon now. ......a lover he'll meet. A g room soon at Twenty .....my heart gives a leap. Remembering, the vows......that I promised to keep. At Twenty-Five, now ......... I have young of my own. Who need me to guide .... And a secure happy home. A man of Thirty ......... My young now grown fast, Bound to each other ........ With ties that should last. At Forty, my young sons ..have grown and are gone, But my woman's beside me.......to see I don't mourn. At Fifty, once more, ......... Babies play 'round my knee, Again, we know children ....... My loved one and me. Dark days are upon me ......... My wife is now dead. I look at the future ..............I shudder with dread. For my young are all rearing......young of their own. And I think of the years...... And the love that I've known. I'm now an old man.........and nature is cruel. Tis jest to make old age .....look like a fool. The body, it crumbles..........grace and vigor, depart. There is now a stone........where I once had a heart. But inside this old carcass ...... A young guy still dwells, And now and again .......my battered heart swells I remember the joys........... I remember the pain. And I'm loving and living.............life over again. I think of the years ...all too few....gone too fast. And accept the stark fact........that nothing can last. So open your eyes, people ..........open and see.. Not a crabby old man. Look closer....see........ME!! Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within.....we will all, one day, be there, too! PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched They must be felt by the heart. God Bless Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.
  7. I did this story about Anorexia. Feedback would be nice. She used to be healthy, she used to be so pretty and just right. But anorexia taken her. Forever. Now, her bones stick out, she's so skinny and you can never see a smile upon her face. She is 5ft 8, weighing only 80 pounds. Fainting has become her hobby. Cramps aswell. Her hair is thin and she has bold patches, where her gorgeous, wavey, soft and silky blonde hair used to be. The smile which used to go from ear to ear has disappeared, replaced with tears. She shivers even in the summer. She can't even stand by herself anymore. She's had to drop out of school because she can't concentrate, can't work, can't do anything anymore. She lays in her bed, or she paces around, counting in her head. Sometimes when she tries to run, she will fall down. Food? That's not an option. It has calories in it. To her that'd be suicide. Water is her only survival option. After all, it has no calories, no fat. She has scars on her body where the skin was torn by a razor blade. She has bruises where she has banged herself from falling over. She has needle marks from being in hospital, having fluids pumped into her because for a while, she began to think water even had calories. She's had food stuffed down her through a tube before too. She's had heart flutters. Her teeth are rotting away because she hasn't got any calcium. Her body is weakening because she hasn't got any nutrients, vitamins, protein, or fiber in her. Her body is failing, and she is hanging onto life by a thread. Just because all she ever wanted to be was 'prettier', 'thinner' and 'better'. All because of anorexia.
  8. I just wrote this now, I'm very sorry if this offends anyone... Staring back at the reflection, wanting to be perfection, smashing the mirror into pieces, dying to be so very thin. Running desperately, to burn the calories, to rid the fat, wherever it's at. Staring at the food, the evilness within, resisting the urge, to eat and give in. Stepping on the scales, 'That can't be right', the number has lowered, but the fat hasn't disappeared, it's still here. Dizziness occurs, sickness has followed, fainting becomes a new hobby, feeling so very groggy. Looking down at the food, the table is surrounded, by her family too, 'I've ate today', she says, another lie, but that's okay, it'll all be worth it, in the end. The bones now reveal, from within the skin, weakening as the days go by, pains like a stabbing pin. One day, running, she ends up collapsing, rushed into hospital, so very ill. She's now on deathsded, and told she has little time left, though all she ever wanted to be, was thin, skinny. I'd appreciate feedback.
  9. First of all I want to say I am sorry for going off topic in some of topics I have posted in and I will try not to do that again. But here is my concern: Some people (well some women) say that the time thier now husbands proposed to them was not very romantic. It seems today that too many guys want to do something original rather than something romantic to propose. Like I know one guy who wrote "Will you marry me" out of scrable letters. Interesting, but hardly romantic (being asked to get married over a normal game of scrabble?? Or another guy whose fiance was a nurse. So he dressed up in dressing and then lay in a hospital bed with his face wrapped up like a mummy. And then he ask her (the nurse) to get his "pee can"...and when she got it for him, she found a wedding ring in it. Original, yes, romantic, ummmmmm.............. so does anyone here have any disspointing engagement proposals??? Or was it everything you dreamed of???
  10. She awakens from the nightmare. 'Holy crap', she thinks, 'that must be the worst nightmare I've had since ... forever'. She wipes of the sweat from her forehead, breathing heavily, she counts to ten. She looks at the time. 'Damn, I'm late', she quickly arises from her bed and rushes her clothes on. She brushes her long, brunette, silky, shiny hair and brushes her teeth. 'What the hell am I going to do about this?', she whispers to herself, looking down on her forearm where a deep cut lies. She quickly runs to her first-aid kit and bandages her arm. 'Oh, fiddlesticks, I have P.E today...', she thinks to herself. She runs upstairs and shoves her long t-shirt into her P.E kit bag. Then she grabs an apple and quickly runs to school. Running into her class, her teacher, Mrs Thorn spins around and raises her voice, telling her 'You're late, again. If you are late one more time this week, you'll have detention, do you understand Lucy?'. Lucy looks down on the floor and replies with a low voice 'Yes Mrs Thorn, I apologize for being late, it won't happen again', Mrs Thorn slightly lowers her voice, 'Good, you may take your seat now Lucy'. Lucy slowly walks towards the back of the room, pulls her chair out and places herself on it. Lucy sighs. Suddenley, a piece of paper is thrown at her. 'Been slicing again have you?', it says. Lucy feels tears swelling up her eyes. She tears it up and throws it in the bin. 'Stupid idiots', she thinks. The bell alarms, and class is over. Lucy is the last to go. Her friend, John, waits for her. 'Lucy, what's up?', John asks with a concern. 'Nothing, I suppose', Lucy replies. 'Are you sure?', he again asks. Lucy gets a bit frustrated now, 'YES, I AM SURE, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT, NOW STOP ASKING!'. John backs away a bit, though still keeping within her reach. 'Okay, I was just asking. Do you want one of my grapes?', he asks with a smile. 'No thank you, I've had a big breakfast today', she replies, though inside she hates lying. 'Oh, a fry up?', he asks with a sad face, as if he is a dog. 'Yeah, mushrooms, bacon, egg, beans, sausages and toast', she replies with a sly smile. 'So unfair!', John laughs. The bell buzzes. 'What's next?', Lucy asks John. 'P.E', he tells Lucy. Skipping along to P.E with John, she remembers her episode from last night and the smile slowly disappears and is replaced with a frown. 'What's wrong?', John asks. 'Oh... nothing', Lucy says, forcing a smile. They separate as they change. Lucy takes her arm out of her jumper, slowly, carefully, so she doesn't suddenley slide it over her bandage. Lucy sighs deeply, looking at her arm. 'What am I going to do...?', she asks herself followed by another long, deep sigh. She closes her eyes as she removes her clothing, apart from her bra and knickers. 'Can't look, too horrid sight', she thinks to herself. She leans down to get her P.E kit clothes and slips them on. She then reaches to her long sleeved t-shirt and slips it on, carefully. Lucy sighs again, but this time, tears swell up her eyes again, everything blurs and she sits down, placing her head within her hands and cries. 'I just want to be normal', she whispers to herself, crying uncontrollably. She picks up her blade, kept in her bag. She clenches to it, runs into the bathroom, shuts the door behind her, locking it, and sitting down on the floor. She breaths heavily, staring at the cold blade. She lifts her sleeves up, revealing her wrist, veins visable, she places the blade onto her skin. She flinches at the coldness of it as it touches her delicate skin. She places it upwards, over a vein. Presses onto the blade, and slowly, drags it down her wrist. Blood splurts out. She repeats the same procedure over the cut. Again. And Again. And Again. Her eyes begin to shut as the blood pours from her veins. She cuts one last time. Then, she shuts her eyes, and everything turns black... 'Lucy?', John calls out. 'LUCY? Are you in here?', he repeats. He then checks inside the facilities. Infront of the locked door, he looks underneath. 'Lucy? Lucy are you...', he stops, looking at blood on the floor... 'LUCY, LUCY?!', he shouts. He then kicks against the door. Again, harder. Again, harder than ever. The door unlatches, and breaks open. Lucy is lying there, blood splurting out, her eyes shut closed and her cold body laying against the wall. 'LUCY, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!', he screams out. He checks her pulse. 'Holy crap! Lucy, LUCY PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME, PLEASE!', eyes watering, he cries uncontrollably and runs outside. 'HELP, HELP, ANYONE!?', he screams out. Echoing around. Mrs Thorn runs, 'What is it John?', she asks worrying. 'LUCY, LUCY, SHE'S, UHH, HURRY UP, FOLLOW ME, QUICK!', John screams, running inside the girls bathroom, he goes into the toilets and shows Mrs Thorn. 'Dear God...', Mrs Thorn's eyes wide open, she stares in shock. 'John... G-G-Get... A-A-An... A-A-Ambulance...... NOW!', she yells. John runs to the office, barges in and dials for an ambulance. 'YES, PLEASE, QUICK, MY FRIEND, LUCY, SHE'S CUT HERSELF, SHE ISN'T BREATHING, SHE... HELP, PLEASE, COME, QUICK!', he yells, running back to Mrs Thorn. '1, 2, 3', Mrs Thorn pushes against her chest. 'Come on Lucy, please, don't die on us, please', tears dripping from her face. Lucy gasps for air... 'THANK GOD!', Mrs Thorn yells out. 'Lucy, Lucy, are you okay?', John runs to her, hugging her so tightly, kissing her forehead. 'I... I...', her eyes shut... 'Lucy?', John checks her pulse... 'She's breathing, she has a pulse, what's wrong with her?', John looks at Mrs Thorn. 'Is the ambulance coming?', she asks. 'Yes, should be', John replies. Sirens in the background screech. 'Go and tell them where Lucy is, and come back, leading the way', Mrs Thorn shoo's John away to go, and hurry about it. John runs, telling the paramedics where Lucy is, leading the way as Mrs Thorn asked. The paramedics rush in, 'Please may you give us some space', they tell Mrs Thorn. Mrs Thorn backs up, getting to her feet and staying out of the way. The paramedics give Lucy oxygeon, and raising her wrist, the blood still rushing out from her. 'What's her name? Lucy, I recall being told?', one of them asks. 'Yes, Lucy, Lucy, she's my best friend, please, please save her, help her, please', John says so quickly. 'We will do all we can', the paramedic replies, facing back to Lucy checking her blood pressure, temperature and pulse. 'She's unstable, we need to get her to hospital, immediately', the paramedic tells us. 'Can I come? Please?', John asks. 'Of course, but please, give us our space', the paramedic replies. They put her on a board and strap her up, giving her fluids and connecting her to an IV line. 'I can't believe she did this', John says to himself. Guilt runs over him. Blaming himself is all he could do right at that moment. Tears run down his cheeks, dripping down. He sniffs his nose, grabbing a tissue and wiping his tears and nose. 'Will she be ok?', John asks one of the paramedics. 'We can't be sure', he replies with a frown. Lucy eyes flutter, her body shakes... she has a seizure. 'What... what... WHAT'S HAPPENING TO HER?', John screams out. The paramedic injects something into the IV line. 'She is having a seizure, be calm, she will be okay in a few minutes, this should help', the paramedic calmly replies, injecting the last bit of fluids into her IV line. She slowly stops shaking her body, her eyes tightly shut. Then they flutter open. 'Where... where... am I...', Lucy whispers. 'It's okay dear, you are in an ambulance, we are taking you to hospital', the paramedic says to her soothingly. 'I... why... what...?', Lucy confused, she says with her eyes half open. 'Just be calm dear', the paramedic tells her. Lucy screams 'LET... M-M-ME... GO', Lucy tries to get up, but the straps are holding her in too tightly. 'Lucy, please calm down, please, they are only helping you', John sits by her, holding her hand. Lucy tries to hit him, but the straps are holding her arms down. 'GET... OFF... ME... I'M... I...I...' Lucy slowly shuts her eyes... 'I... I... am.... FINE...', finally, her mouth shuts and her eyes close. 'What happened? Is she ok?', John asks. 'I just gave her a sedative', the paramedic replies. The ambulance stops, sirens turned off, the other paramedic opens the back door. 'Okay, John, please stay back', the paramedic tells John, lifting up the board, wheels appear and they wheel her out of the ambulance and rush her into the hospital. 'Young girl, age 14, cut her wrist deeply, lost alot of blood, blood pressure low, pulse high, temperature very low', the paramedics tell the nurses gathering around her in the Emmergency unit. 'Okay, John, please come with me', John is told by a nurse. 'But... Lucy...', John stutters and looks at Lucy. 'She's in safe hands now', the nurse says, leading him into friends and relatives room. It seemed like hours before a nurse came in and said that he could see Lucy. She lead him to the where Lucy lay, she was hooked to so many things. 'Is... is she ok?', John asks the nurse. 'It's hard to say, these first 24 hours are critical', the nurse replies with a sad face. John took a seat close to Lucy, stroking her head, holding her hand, letting out a deep, long sigh, with tears swelling up in his eyes. 'Oh Lucy, why?', he whispers. Her eyes flutter open. 'Lucy?', he asks quietly. She opens her mouth, 'J...John?', she quietly asks for him. 'J...J...John... W...where... are... you?', she shakes her head, trying to look for him, but her eyes are shut. 'I'm here, I'm here Lucy', John squeezes her hand. 'John... I... I'm sorry...', she flutters her eyes open... 'It's okay, It's okay, shhh... I'm here...', he says to her soothingly and calmly. Her eyes open, half open, half shut, she looks, blurred vision, she sees John. 'Oh, John... I... I'm sorry... Please... for...give... me...', she stutters... 'Of course I forgive you, I was so scared Lucy, I was so scared...', John cries, putting his head next to hers, hugging her, holding her hand still, kissing her forehead, whispering to her 'It's okay'. He opens his eyes. 'I must've fallen asleep?...', John thinks to himself, still, his head next to hers, cuddling into her, hand in hers. 'Lucy, sweetie, you awake?', he asks her. 'I... I... am...', she stutters. 'Are you okay?', he asks her with a frown. 'I will be... John... please... don't ever leave me...', she tells him with tears dripping from her eyes. 'Never', he replies with certainty. 'Lucy... I love you more than anything, you're like a sister to me, I'll always be here for you', he looks into her eyes, holding her tight. 'You do? How? How could you love, how could you care about such a monster like me? Such a... freak?', Lucy replies with tears uncontrollably spilling from her eyes. 'Lucy, you're the most amazing girl I've met, you're fabulous, I really care about you, so much' John says to her, with a smile accross his face, wiping her tears and holding her tightly. 'I... don't know what to say...', Lucy says back, for the first time, she smiles and she meant it. They lay there, holding each other for what seems like forever... 'Okay, Lucy, a psychiatrist is here to just talk to you, are you okay, feeling okay?', the nurse comes in asking her. 'I feel... okay, I guess, well, not really, but, I can handle it', she replies with a smile spread accross her face, holding John. 'Could John come with me?', Lucy asks. 'Yes, of course, if he wants too', the nurse replies. A few hours pass, and the psychiatrist comes in greeting both of them. Hours they talked. In the end, the psychiatrist suggested she be sectioned. 'Sectioned? NO! I can't be, please, please don't, please!', Lucy screams, trying to get up. John holds her, 'Lucy, please, do this for me, it's what's best', he tells her. '... But, I don't want to go into any hospital John, please don't let them, please, please...', she pleas John, but he refuses too. 'Lucy, this is for your own good, please, please just do it, for me?', John asks her. 'For you, fine, but visit me everyday, or whenever you can, call me too, please'... John nods, holding her close. Lucy gets sectioned, John goes with her to make sure she settles fine. Her mother was called, but she was too scared to come in to the hospital and see her. When she was informed of the update, she came straight to the hospital. 'Where is Lucy?', she asks the reception. 'Who are you?', the lady asks. 'I'm her mother, Jane', she replies. 'Right this way Jane, she is with her friend John', she says, stepping from behind the desk leading her down the hallway. 'Here she is', she says, showing her through the door to a bedroom. 'Lucy, oh God LUCY!', her mother runs up to Lucy and gives her the longest, tightest hug ever. 'Hun, what, urgh, just, Lucy...', her mother cries as she tightly hugs her daughter. 'John, oh, John, thank you so much, thank you, thank you!', her mother runs to John and hugs him. John blushes... 'It's fine Ma'am', hugging her back. Lucy, John and her mother are put in a room with the psychiatrist. 'I'm afraid Lucy will have to stay here for 28 days, she has been sectioned under the mental health act 2', the psychiatrist tells Lucy's mother. 'I... ok, aslong, aslong as she will be safe, and okay', her mother looks at Lucy, with a little smile, but she feels tears coming from her eyes. Lucy nods and says 'I... I'm sorry'. John hugs Lucy, telling her it's okay. 'Could me and Lucy have some time alone?', John asks of the psychiatrist and her mother. 'Of course, if that is okay with you?', Lucy's mother looks at the psychiatrist. 'Yes, certaintly, but please don't be too long', he replies, and walks out, leading Lucy's mother. 'Lucy, please, try and help yourself for me, please?', John looks into Lucy's eyes and pleads for her to say okay. 'It's hard, I've been cutting, feeling so low, sad, depressed, suicidal, for so long, I just... I want to die...', Lucy cries, John sits her on his lap and cuddles into her. 'It's going to be okay Lucy, please, just promise me you'll try to get better, to accept the help, please?', John looks into her eyes again, wiping her tears, waiting for the answer... What seems like hours, she finally says 'Okay John. For my mum... and for you', she says, cuddling into him, crying and holding him tightly. 'Thank you, so much Lucy', he cries, holding her tight too, tears dropping quickly from his eyes, aswell as hers.
  11. Written for the love of my life, who called me while attempting to kill herself. She's now locked away for a few weeks in a hospital, and I can only talk to her about a half hour a day, an that's the worst part of it all (Sorry all, I included swears at parts where I can't change them or it won't flow, so I just used *'s to block a few letters) --------------------------------------- Welcome to the problem there's lots to see yet not much to do and no matter what it's bound to kill you Let's make a little swap Just take my simplicity I'll take your ghosts, pain, secrets and misery Why are you locked in and when will I get out? When will you be back and what's this blood about? Don't bleed, what did you do? I'd do what I can for it to stop I should just be bleeding for you I would if I could but we can never swap Anything for happiness is bull **it perhaps I'm talking in the moment but just to see you again would be it all this sh ** would become pleasant But for now it's all **it and for now I'll say **ck it and from you I'll need breathing and for me it's that or there's nothing
  12. Tears keep on falling, Hearts keep on breaking, The last conversation is stalling, My soul is for the taking. And when you cry, I wipe those tears away, Yes when you wished to die, It was upon my shoulder you lay. But when the table turns, And its my tears that are streaming, When the pain simply burns, Your face is still gleaming. Theres nothing to worry about, The light is still in the sun, Theres no reason to pout, Theres no reason to run. Deep inside my heart, I know you'll never realise, No one ever thought i'd one to start, No one ever thought i'd be the one telling lies. Student councillor, Library monitor, Office assitant, Debater of the year... Kind, sweet, shy, A face with a smile, Never a tear to cry, Willing to walk 100 miles. Straight A's, Teachers pet, Nothing keeps me at bay, My future is already set. The disguise i used, The easiest way, To just pretend i'm amused, Never thought the price would be so hard to pay. But now my disguise has faded, And the fears that i made forbidden, Are no longer shaded, Are no longer hidden. Gone are the As, Gone are the awards, As they stare in amase, Its me getting rushed into the hospital wards. She tried to take her life, One whispers to the next, No one ever thought i'd hold the knife, No one ever thought i'd write the suicidal text. And when i awake, People look and stare, Say i'm just another fake, Say my life was easy to bare. But no one sees the hidden tears, Yeah no one sees the hurt, They saw what they wanted to after all the years, No more fears...
  13. My father died two weeks ago.. Got a flue, then pneumonia and doctors say that heart couldn't make it through the illness and all those medications.. They say "oh what can you do, he was old".. We lived together, my mother, father and I, no brothers, sisters.. Here, in my country doctors are monsters.. At first no one from the ambulance wanted to come for a visit.. They said they don't have time, and it is nothing serious.. My father had 82 years, had diabetes, weak heart, and you don't prescribe the same things to boy of 20 years and to man of 82.. I called for a visit doctor from a private hospital, he diagnosed pneumonia ad gave him a prescriptions, some antibiotics, he also said that it is not a serious condition.. There wasn't any improvement and my aunt found one doctor in state hospital.. He supposed to intervene that my father even come to hospital, usually they say to older patients that there is no bed available.. I gave money to doctor so he will treat my dad good, brought presents to nurses so they will keep him clean and take care of him.. There is allowed just one visit during the day, it lasts one hour so I couldn't be around.. Eventually even those visits were canceled because of flue epidemics.. I tried to enter to hospital and saw my dad that evening, he was like sleeping, couldn't wake him up, didn't try very much, thought that maybe he was tired, found doctor and she said that it is normal condition, he is resting and so on.. In the morning after 4 days in hospital doctor called me and said that my dad passed away and that she is sorry.. I'm so angry, and sad.. I can't help thinking that my father could be alive if I was smarther, found another doctor, found another hospital.. I'm sure that he died because of our terrible medical care, they could save him.. What if his heart was weak, some people was born with weak heart and they live their whole life in such condition.. They could've reanimate him, they could've said that his condition is bad and I would sell everything I have to find that heart for him.. I would give my lungs to kep him breathe.. I could burn that hospital, I wish that those doctors live for 100 years, but that all of their familly members die, so they would live for those 100 years all alone, wondering what they did to deserve it.. I'm full of hate for people who are supposed to heal others, and although they have salaries they take money from patients so they would do their job.. I'm so full of sadness thinking how I could save my father and failed, that he was all alone in hospital, alone and scared.. I was supposed to take care of my parents, to protect them.. They take care of me all the time, during the war, they would gave their life for me.. Now when time came to keep them safe I failed.. It is like you let your child die.. I worked a lot, staying late in office, had a longterm relationship breakup this summer.. I was so nervous all the time and I was preocupied with my own problems didn't pay attention to only two people in this world that love me and care about me..
  14. hey everyone, i need to give some history to this story first, its not long. i was raped a few months back, by my ex's dad. i had this friend who would spend up to 8 hours in the hospital with me. he was always there for me. however once i got out of weeks in hospital, and then re-admitted for another two weeks. he decided that the first time i got 'drunk' he decided to have sex with me, i dont remember it, but i know it happened coz i could feel it later, and he told me. i was really up set and felt really betrayed. but i stayed friends with him. the next day i went up to talk to him, but i fell asleep, only to wake up to him touching me and kissing me. i didnt want to talk to him, or have anything to do with him. but i felt so bad for everything that he had done for me in the past, so i stayed friends with him. then i went up about 3 weeks later, again fell asleep (i have depression, and sleep alot) only to have to him fingering me, and touching me all over. i got so angry called him a sick barstard and walked out. he didnt come after me, he didnt say anything and he hasnt tried to contact me. i feel so guilty and bad, he was a great friend, and so many times has helped me, but i dont know what to do. please help me work out what to do. i just dont know who to trust now.
  15. Hi everyone, my first post here, but ive been reading thro and seen some good advice so im hoping you guys can help me Ok its a very long story, but ill try and make it shorter Me and my hubby have been married just over 10 years together for 15 im now 35 hes 38 The last few years have been hard.. my husband has a life long illness (not life threatenin but very painfull) and this year i also have been ill bloated up like a balloon and felt terrible, fat and ugly and down Anywaaayyy hubby runs his own business and mentioned he was going to get someone else in to help a few hours in the office, i said no worries, talked about an advert etcc.. we then had a horrible long weekend away in october i was very ill, and he seemed to not want to be with me and moaned about me being silly with my girlyfriend & her boyfriend who we stayed with. then my granny died & i went into hospital, nothing major but was in for 2 weeks having copius tests getting very very down He popped into to tell me about the new lady at work that a friend had put him onto, and was doing nothing but praising her, i was off my head on tablets and just remember feeling like he was a little too excited about it, anyway hed been really sweet whilst he was in hospital (just before i went in id been having a conversation with a friend that he took me for granted at home & was a lazy stoner and i was gonna kick some * * * so i wasnt sure if she'd had a word) Anyway then i came out of hospital and was totally drained - all my mates were worried about me but were sayin its ok he'll been running round after you, you just relax etcc.. So what does he do.. ive been home 2 days and he announces that hes off camping with his bro for a few days as his bros a bit down.. is that ok (in a if you say no im gonna sulk way) at this stage i was having to sit down after walking down the stairs i was so tired, but i just told him to go for a quiet life.... and then cried for the next day and i felt it was confirmed that he really didnt give a sh*t or fancy me anymore! Anyway then his mobile bill turns up while he is away.. and while we were on holiday/while ive been ill hes been texting this number i dont recognize (we have the same friends) at all times up to 10 times a day and up to 2 in the morning! and calls for 1hr plus... so i decide to ring it cos its eating me up, and pretend ive got the wrong number but try and suss who it is... Anyway it was the 'new girl' i pulled it off i think without her guessing i was fishing then i rang up a friend in tears, which was hard as i try and deal with everything myself normally but i was about to explode! and i wanted to check i wasnt being unresonable (i have NO problem with him having female friends, but doing things behind my back is a different matter, especially when its someone i dont know!) Anyway i couldnt get through on his phone, so thought id call his brother to check he was actually with him.. no awnser at home none at the office, i do believe he was with him, as i have mentioned it since on the off chance and stories seem to tally up. Anyway weather he was having ideas about this girl or what i dont know but boy did i fly when he got home... The last few years of pent up frustration came flying out.. coupled with a lot of how dare you etccc and he just burst into tears.. Told me he knew it was out of order, admitted he lied about how he met her (she actually had just popped in the shop and theyd got chatting) but felt he needed an outsider to chat too as he wated to stop the smoking and stop being such an * * * *.. and nothing happened in 'that' way and he had stopped texting her recently anyway.. i even asked if hed been with her and not with his bro.. to which he said 'course not. i love you sooo much, i just need to sort myself out, why do you put up with me.. i treat you like sh*t and im a lazy stoned idiot' - to which i had the satisfaction of saying ' im beginning to wonder...' so i laid down the law a bit.. that i was NOT going to take his lazy * * * * anymore, as much as i love him we are now in such a routine after all this time together that its easy to stay in it,but it would have to change or i would be walking.. and if i ever found out there was anything else to it.. he was a dead man! But anyway things HAVE got so much better Since then i have been back in hospital again.. but im much better now, lost 2 stone and feeling much better and feel attractive again which is fantastic and hes stopped smoking and wont leave me alone and gets on and does stuff without me having to ask and is being lovely. The only problem now is (its normally when i have PMT lol) i keep wondering if she ever gets in touch, he used to be very protective of his phone, but now will leave it out and doesnt mind me using it.. so i dont think i need to worry, but i cant help but have a niggle and a part of me just wants to ask him .. but another big part tells me to let it lie, i know he has a lot to deal with himself being unwell and on so much medication all the time.. so i dont want to cause hassle for no reason! On the flip side several years ago i had a male friend he didnt know about (who also had a girlfriend) that helped me through a hard time when my husband was ill, we chatted and flirted but never met up ( and would never had as we were both very in love with our other halves, just had fun chatting, and let off a bit of steam together) If he had known im sure this would have got the same reaction from him - but a guy 8 hours away accross the country is far different to a girl in the next village in my eyes. It still bugs me that i dont know what she looks like.. arggghhhh so the big question ( and thank you if you are still awake having read this far) is... do i bring it up and ask if shes ever been in touch again or let it lie?
  16. my life just sucks basically at the moment. Well i guess the last 16 years isnt just a moment. I've had suicidal thought many times...mostly recently. Ive been to many therapists, even this ridiculous program at a hospital. Nobody knows that I cut, or used to. My mom knows about one time. Not the second time. I also have anxiety which makes me cut because it makes me calm down. Im so sick of it. Im always feeling sick, im actually home from school right now. Also i just found out that I might now be able to drive because my moms car insurance is going to be canceled maybe because of me. Also, she yelled at me because i dont feel good. Basically long story short, my life sucks and I keep having urges to cut, but part of my doesnt want to.
  17. Here Are 10 Strategies That Never Work – Yet People Always Try 1. The first is to give her reassurance. “I’ve changed. I won’t be controlling anymore. I won’t lie to you anymore. I won’t have another affair,” and so forth. The efforts to give her reassurance. This almost never works. 2. The second strategy is to tell her over and over again, “I love you.” That never works. 3. Third is the use of prayer and hope, which is basically wishful thinking. Robert Ringer talks about wishful thinking in his book Winning Through Intimidation. He was in big commercial real estate, barely getting by financially. And then he discovered he was doing wishful thinking, so he switched over to doing reality thinking. In less than one year, he made over $800,000 in brokerage fees. 4. The fourth strategy is arguing, reasoning, trying to talk her into feeling different or doing different. That never works. 5. The fifth strategy is recruiting others, trying to get others to side with us. That always boomerangs. 6. Acting depressed. Now, sometimes that might work temporarily through getting her to feel guilty or afraid of what we’re going to do. But it increases her motivation to get away from us. I had a man who attempted suicide twice before he heard about me and called me. He ended up in the hospital. I don’t even think she went to the hospital. But they’re back together and happy now. His acting depressed didn’t help very much. 7. Using the kids. That’s kind of like recruiting others. That always boomerangs. 8. Blaming and using moral pressure. One psychologist says, “The essense of mental disturbance can be put in one word: blaming.” Never works. It works negatively. 9. Pessimism. We become addicted to our pessimism. “I know I can’t win. You don’t know my wife. She’s very stubborn. She never changes her mind.” I say, “Never? About anything?” “Well, maybe about minor things, but not things this important.” I said, “Well, I think it’s about something this important is precisely what she has changed her mind about. She originally said she was going to stay with you and love you forever. And now, she can’t stand you. So obviously, she’s changed her mind. So obviously, she does change her mind.” But people fall in love with pessimism. That’s one of the strategies. 10. Exaggeration. One psychologist says, “The essense of mental disturbance can be put in one word: blaming.” I say the essense of mental disturbance can be put in one word: exaggerating. We exaggerate the good, and we exaggerate the bad. All of these strategies are very human. This list almost exhausts the strategies that people use. These strategies always backfire. Now, how are we going to win against the competition of other people and her negative feelings and our addiction to these strategies and our addiction to self-pity?
  18. I'm writing this with tears in my eyes. Back in 2006, actually 3 days before new year 207, I was feeling a little lonely and left out. Suddenly I met this guy in a very uncommon situation, and we spoke for a minute and I felt a great chemistry; this lead me to ask him for his number and email before saying goodbye. We had a 4 hour conversation on messenger that night. Since that moment I knew I liked him and knew he liked me too. We went on our first date on the first week of January, and had a lot of dates during that month. One thing he always made me aware of is that this was his first relationship ever, and he had never liked any man before. However, we acted very loving and he was as much into our relationship as I was. We even held hands in public while going to our car in one of our dates!!! This great chemistry gave me the courage to ask him to be my boyfriend at the end of January (and he said YES! At the beginning of February I got into the hospital with a very dangerous situation that kept me there for a week, and I had to stay homefor a week after that. He was very concerned about what had happened, however, we live one hour away and he just got his driver's licence and couldn't go to see me at the hospital. I told him it was alright, I understood his situation. When I came out of the hospital, we returned to our regular life (to the extent that my condition allowed me). I started to notice something strange in his voice. I kept asking him but he said he was feeling well both physically and emotionally. Last week he injured his hand and wrist, so he told me that the strange thing I heard in his voice was because of those injures. Last night we were talking on the phone and I asked him again and told him I didn't felt we were that loving and sweet couple we were a month ago, something had changed between us. He at least had the trust in me to tell me that he wasn't sure about our relationship because he wasn't sure if he was gay or not. He says he has never been attracted by any man and still find girls appealing. He said he is in love with me, but it just feels RIGHT for him to be with me and love me, but he doesn't feel he is gay being with me. I told him I understood and I was there to help him and give him any advice and support he needed. I also spoke to him about this forum so he can find help. But I think I am the one who needs help now! I need your support. What should I do? What should I say?
  19. Not necessarily in the same room. But was she at least at the hospital waiting to see her grandchild? And if not, why? Your choice or hers?
  20. Hey guys!! Born on February 7, 2007 8 lbs 6 oz 20 inches long (I think...) and a FOURTEEN inch head! I haven't filed the paperwork yet due to difficulties with the father, but I'm naming him Benjamin. I had a million different names picked out, but when I held him, they just didn't fit. ANYWAYS here's what happened. I'm doped up on Vicodin and haven't slept well so please excuse me for not making much sense... I got to the hospital at 5am for my scheduled induction and they gave me a picotin drip and an IV to get things started. I got an epidural around 5pm when things started getting pretty painful and slept until around 8pm. I called R (the father) to let him know I was in the hospital and he'd better come now if he wanted to be there at all, but he wasn't allowed in the delivery room and he wasn't allowed to stress me out. *sigh* I was fully dialated and ready to push around 8:30 and he was born about an hour later. Nobody's joking when they say it hurts really freaking bad. Even with an epidural. But it's so worth it. So R showed up (AND his mother) and they both tried to get into the delivery room, even though they were told beforehand they weren't allowed. After everything was cleaned up, R came in and was so bent out of shape. R's mom started talking trash to mine, saying she was behind everything. I don't know what the heck, but they brought drama. So dumb. The next day (yesterday) my brother and sister in law came to see the baby, and R showed up. They stayed all day so he wouldn't be alone with me pretty much. Visiting hours ended at 8 and everyone left, and R acted like he was leaving but sat on the bed. He said "the baby's getting my last name, right?" and I didn't tell him no...I said I was thinking about hyphenating them instead, and he freaked out. He told me I robbed him of an experience he should have been a part of by not letting him into the delivery room, and now I'm going to take away his right as a father by not giving him his last name. I told him I thought it was stupid for someone to name a kid after a father who wants a paternity test anyways...and he said that's just for "legal purposes." Whatever. Anyways things got heated, the nurse saw and tried to take my blood pressure which was off the charts, I told him to leave, and he started pointing at me, saying he'd be back, blah blah blah. I broke down, the nurses came in and told me they were calling protective services or whatever it's called for me so they can tell me what my rights are and how it's not okay for anyone to bully me. After that, apparently he went to my mother's house to talk to my mom and my brother. He made a jerk out of himself and they told him what they thought of him. Today he called me and told me he loved me. I told him he has a really weird way of showing it. They he proceeded to tell me he didn't want a paternity test anymore, he wants to be with me, yadda yadda yadda. I said I wasn't talking to him and that's that. He showed up a couple hours later to see the baby, and started rubbing my leg and my back and tried to kiss me. I told him to stop, he said he wouldn't "try" anymore, then left. The nurses put a sign on my door saying every visitor has to check in before going in and were told by protective services to call the cops if they see him again. I feel so torn. I feel crazy. I feel happy because I have the prettiest child ever...but things are about to get really, really, really bad. Protective services asked me a bunch of questions and gave me some numbers to call. They said basically he has nothing. I have all the cards. If he shows up, I gotta call the cops. I should file a restraining order too. He won't be on the birth certificate. In order to change that, he must get a paternity test and go to court. Then I get child support if he were to do that. He has nothing. Even then, he'd have to get supervised visitation because of his record, but I'm gonna need a lawyer. I love this child. But this is going to be the biggest test I've faced so far in my life. It's so bittersweet. Anyways, besides everything, I'm elated (not just because of the vicodin) and my son is so beautiful.
  21. Has anyone here had a mole removed? And would like to tell me a little about it? How much was it? Did it leave any scarring? Did the mole get fainter? How many sessions did it take? Did you like your doctor? I went for a consultation to a doctor at a famous hospital. I was so excited but the procedure is expensive and I didn't like the doctor very much. I wonder if I should go to him because does work at a wellknown place. I just have a few flat moles, and slightly raised ones and I don't like them at all. Has anyone had moles removed near their eyes as well? Please let me know all about it.
  22. Where to start? My ex had a manic episode while we were dating ( a year 1/2 into it). I'd picked up that his eccentricities were sometimes too far out, and also, he had bouts of anger and verbal abuse towards me that actually made me break up with him several times. I also thought he was self-absorbed, grandiose, and narcissistic. Red flags. But I chose to help him instead of dumping him for good. I'd always go back. After 3 years of ups and downs, and me trying to help him, my ex left me last november, 3 weeks after telling me he loved me so much, that we had a spiritual connection, that he wanted no one else but me, saying he realized now how I'd given him so much and that now it was his turn to carry us; well, he left me because he met a girl and said ( exact words) I heard her song"- No no, people, not with his ears. He heard the song in his head. He said "it came from her". Well, how do I beat THAT? He said "you know how I am with musical connections..." I do not miss him. I'm just realizing how I was so sucked into a disturbing, unreal and unhealthy situation. Why did I stay? The irony: I WORK in a psychiatric hospital. I know all about psychotic symptoms. He HAD psychotic symptoms. I tried to help him, but he would put me down, my job, my family. He was a f***ing horrible abusive f*** to me. Yes, dammit, I stayed anyway... I think I took more abuse than I would have in other circumstances because I so wanted to help (read: save) him](*,) ). As well, he wasn't always unwell, so I would cling to that. He was actually brilliant. Picture "A Beautiful Mind", or "Down in the Valley"? Although those are about 1-schizophrenia 2-sociopath/psychopath, they still portray some psychotic symptoms. I feel humiliated for having stuck around and trying to help the JERK. I am in disbelief about how he could act one way, sweet, smart, charming, and then be completely wacked. It's like I can't be objective because I was so close to him, not in a hospital setting. He was DrJekyll and MrHyde. But you know what? I'm not the first woman who's been caught by his charm and his brilliance. Like a spell. I'm not kidding. I feel I was caught in a nightmare. How can I move on??? I think about him everyday. I'm so bitter about having tried to help him, and also about having disrespected myself by accepting abuse... and he ends up leaving me for another woman!!! I am thankful I'm out of the situation, but I still feel betrayed. I'm still hurt. I'm confused!!!!! And I'm tired of feeling sad when obviously he wasn't good to me!!! I know better than this!!! I just still have my moments of disbelief about the whole thing...
  23. Hi, I was wndering if maybe somebody (even better if they're female) could give me some feedback on a current dilemma I am currently facing. Two weeks ago, completely by surprise, I met a young lady who, being honest, is everything I have ever wished for. She is both beautiful, incredibly intelligent, and speaks her mind, which is something I've always admired. For the first week, we would talk for at least three hours each night over the 'phone, discussing our life stories, experiences, likes/dislikes, and I'm pretty sure there is nothing we don't know about each other. We've both been in relationships where we've got hurt before, and it seems that neither of us were particularly well supported whilst growing up. It's almost like we were destined to meet, and I really don't want to lose this girl. I am quite an introveed person, when it comes to sharing my feelings, but I do feel, even at this early stage, that I could happily spend the rest of my life with this wonderful person. However, things have gone awfully quiet since the weekend, when we couldn't meet up, and as it turned out, she spent the evening in the company of her ex-boyfriend's father (who is gay, apparently, so I'm not too worried!) and they have always been close. Furthermore, upon receiving a phonecall from her on Monday, my new friend asked me what name I thought of, what I thought of her; either her Christian name, or her nickname I have for her, which has stuck. I became quite tongue-tied at this point, but replied honestly, as I always think of her nickname, as it's the one special 'link' that she and I have, as nobody else knows her by this name. I don't know if this was what she wanted me to say, and maybe a few of you ladies could give me your opinion? The main reason I'm so worried is that I haven't heard from her since. I know she is very busy this week (she works in a teaching hospital) and said she would call on either Wednesday or Thursday, and I'm scared I've upset her, and won't hear from her again. I don't want to become a nuisance, so is not calling her/texting her, for a few days, and giving her some time and space, a good idea? I'm also worried that, after we last spoke, I didn't hang the phone up correctly, and I think that she may have one of those phones which, if the other person hasn't hung up, will make hers start ringing. and as bad luck would have it, I noticed my mistake, and hung up, just as I heard "Hello?"-or at least I think I did-coming down the line. The last thing I want is to freak her out, and ultimately lose her. Meeting her was the best thing to happen to me in a long time, and I genuinely am very scared. Please help!
  24. Hello. First I wanna say that I'm not from the U.S., U.K. or any other English speaking country, so I beg you to please have understanding for my awful English. Anyways I have thought of drown myself. I live in Sweden and it very cold to today, so my question is simple. How long does it take til' I die? 10 hours? 20 hours? Please help me with this, I'm really serious. I think the question is important because I don’t want to be “rescued”. Say I think that I will die after 10 hours, and then it isn’t that way, I don’t wanna wake up in the hospital! I’m serious.
  25. Okay I'm going through a pregnancy forum withdrawl. I'm no longer in the preggo club! Anyways, here's a list of things that I needed after I got home from the hospital and had no idea I would, so I was completely unprepared. Maybe it will help a couple of you. Maybe this is common knowledge, but it wasn't for me! Besides diapers and wipes, I found I needed rubbing alcohol to take care of the umbilical cord. Since I had a son and got him circumsized, and I needed vaseline and 2 x 2 gauze pads to cover the wound so it wouldn't stick to his diaper. I also got some diaper rash stuff that I already need. One thing they NEVER tell you about is post partum care for YOU. I knew I needed some pads (and by some, I mean a truck-load), but I also found witch-hazel pads are a MUST. (The brand I use are called Tuck's, they help with the healing...) Also, they should give you a little water bottle to squirt warm water on yourself to keep clean, but I got an extra one to keep as backup. I also needed this spray for my girly parts, it's called Dermoplast and it totally saved me. Another suggestion...get some really cheap sheets that you don't care about. I had my bed all set up with my nice sheets so I would be comfy after getting home from the hospital...BIG mistake. I'm not gonna go into details, but you get the picture. Anyways, I hope this helps someone! Feel free to add anything I forgot!
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