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Thread: Life has not been kind lately

  1. #1

    Life has not been kind lately

    Hello all, it's been some time since I've regularly participated in the forums.

    I grew up in an abusive household. My mother used myriad drugs before I was born, and turned to them again after my birth. This was repeated after my younger brother was born. She was also mentally ill, and never had her illness officially diagnosed or treated. Highly intelligent, she wielded her brainpower in a malicious, manipulative manner - including against her own children and husband. My father, mentally ill himself (manic), was physically abusive. Neither of them were emotionally available, but unlike my mother, my father was not a bright man. His tool of discipline and control was violence. A playful joke or observation from a child at the dinner table could result in a punch or choke; picking at food or declining to eat a certain food could also trigger such a response. Arguments surrounding my mother's frustrations with her children finished with a denial of my legitimacy as his child, followed by the belt or worse. The oldest child, I'd shield my brothers from physical confrontations with him. One such tactic I used was to place a bath towel (literally 'caping up') under my shirt collar and attack my father in order to divert his attention from my brothers and onto me.

    By the time my sophomore year of high school came around, I was mentally checked out. My sole reason for remaining in school was to play basketball. I wasn't destined for the NBA, or likely even college, but I loved basketball. I was a better pitcher, but basketball was my passion. My high school utilized block scheduling, which gave 90 minutes to each class. Being a member of the basketball team, my last period of the day was athletic PE. I got to lift weights, condition, and scrimmage. And after school, I had basketball practice. When I got home, I'd go to a local neighborhood and play even more. Tryouts closed in from the horizon. I needed a physical in order to be eligible for tryouts. My mother didn't bother to schedule or take me to one. Can't make the team if you don't try out (I wasn't LeBron James-level good), and I dropped out before the semester concluded. Who knows how many other events in my life were affected by my mother's indifference or sabotage.

    I met my future wife in 2007, at the age of 22. I hadn't yet kissed a woman, had a girlfriend, or any regular interaction with members of the opposite sex. My parents showed affection to one another exactly once - a peck on the lips after a couples retreat in 1994. I had sex with my then girlfriend for nearly six months before kissing her. Slightly disordered. Her story is more tragic than mine. She was raped by her biological father as a child, and her stepfather attempted to molest her in her teens. She disclosed the stepfather's actions to her mother before her senior year of high school, and she was rewarded by being forced to sleep in a tent in her backyard. Until her graduation. We were emotionally damaged, even broken, people, and we found each other (I'll revisit this). Her roommates were evicted from the apartment she was staying in and informed her the night they needed to vacate. I wasn't very attentive, and we'd only been together around 9 months, but I wasn't going to let her sleep on a bench somewhere. I took her home (I was still at home, the only one with a job. My paycheck went to my mother). After my future wife and I moved out a few months later, my mother relied entirely on her father for monetary assistance.

    We moved out to a hovel of a trailer. A malfunctioning septic system, no central air or heat, no oven, no stove, no washer or dryer. I had to fill a 2.5 gallon propane tank for our first three years if we wanted hot water for a shower. Also infested with termites, and the insulation was terrible, if not non-existent. It would reach 100 degrees indoors during summer, and drop to the 30s at times at night in winter. But it was what we could afford, especially once I lost my passable job at a nutrition store. Fast forwarding several years to June 2016, after three years of engagement, my future wife broke down. She couldn't take living there anymore. She also was stressed from her job, and would come home crying each day. We hatched our plan. We'd take up the landlord on her offer to buy the property from her, get married the next summer, and place a modular home in the trailer's stead. She'd get a new job, and I'd stay at mine in order to demonstrate a steady job history for a loan. Then, once we got the home, it would be time for me to get a new job or go to school. It wouldn't be extravagant, but it was ours. We didn't have a support system around us, but we had each other.

    Summer 2017 rolled around, and she wasn't happy with the progression of her weight. She wanted to wait a year for the wedding (she was set on August 23 being the date). She needed a better vehicle for her new job (after a year of bouncing from job to job, she finally found one she enjoyed), so we bought a car. I was emotionally available to her, and our relationship was complete, barring one thing - intimacy. For several years at this point, her periods were extremely irregular. Sex was painful, and she'd bleed after. Doctor visits would conclude with a prescription for birth control, and those would... kind of work. My only other experience with women and menstrual cycles was my mother, whose reproductive system required removal in my early teens. So I didn't demand my future wife escalate her concerns to another doctor; I only encouraged her to seek further help. As it was, sex just didn't happen.

    2018. My mother is in full-fledged tailspin, routinely throwing public tantrums and calling police on neighbors for concocted reasonings. She was hospitalized for... something, and the attending physician called me. After stating that he was violating every law and policy he could think of, he told me she tested positive for methamphetamine, and needed intense rehab for her addiction and mental illness. I took up the charge to try to get my mother help - I'd broken off most communication with her at this point, but this was life and death. I called her primary physician, and after informing him of the situation (frankly, I don't know how he didn't notice. My mother was a walking Cops episode), he put me in contact with her pain management physician. She had severe neuropathy, and her body was simply worn by this point in her mid 50s. She needed pain management. But her physician couldn't prescribe medication knowing she was abusing them and other drugs. I lined up a stay at Loma Linda, with the help of her doctors. She didn't accept the help, and instead turned her ire toward me and my future wife.

    Speaking of future wife, we got married! August 23, 2018, the 11th anniversary of our first date. We'd priced mod homes, and knew which one we were going to get. It was happening. We met as broken, damaged individuals, and mended our wounds while becoming one. We struggled to overcome bad habits, a lack of education, and a lack of support system to grow and learn together, and make a semi-respectable life for ourselves. She was experiencing some back pain, and her menstrual cycles were worsening, but her emotional state was strong, and she carried on. She was my rock, my foundation, my lioness (we witnessed lions mating at the San Diego Safari Park, so I always ribbed her by calling her my lioness. She was also fierce, and deserved the title.)

    We consummated, and the results were not pretty. I had bits of what looked like overcooked hamburger on my penis, and a couple pieces were on the bed. The hemorrhaging was severe, and didn't lessen over our honeymoon weekend. She slept in the shower of the hotel room while hemorrhaging. It was time. She needed further medical assistance. She went to the ER (she didn't want me to miss work), and received an emergency transfusion. They also administered a papsmear. Her kidney function was declining, and she was beginning to accumulate bile in her stomach. The results of the papsmear were in a week later, and we were scheduled to see a gynecologist on September 25. It was cervical cancer, and it was already advanced. Too advanced for surgical removal, as it was likely large enough to put the ureters at risk.

    We went home. Our plans were dashed. We weren't buying our home any time soon, and a host of other questions reared their head. Would I be able to cover our expenses if she were unable to work during treatment? Hell, would she make it? Would I even have my wife around for any decent part of my life? We went to bed. She woke up in the morning, got ready for work, then came to me. She'd been vomiting fairly regularly for a month at this point, and she hadn't urinated in over a day. She asked me to take her to the hospital. Her kidneys were failing. The cancer was more advanced than our gynecologist had suspected - her ureters were already clamped by the mass, preventing her kidneys from emptying. I tapped into rage I hadn't allowed myself to express in at least a decade (I'm 6'4", and before stress stripped me of 40 pounds over these last 18 months, I was 220 pounds), and I didn't calm down until her GYN/OC's university was made aware of the situation. My wife was transferred to UCSD early the following morning for an emergency dual nephrostomy tube insertion to drain her kidneys. The plan was to get her stabilized, then home by her 32nd birthday (October 1), in order to get her ready for chemo.

    Then she started vomiting. Incessantly. She couldn't consume liquids or eat food without vomiting. They inserted a tube through her nose to drain her stomach, and ordered a new round of tests. Those scans revealed a mass that had closed her duodenum. Her birthday had passed; I went home (70 miles each way) to grab our German Shepherd and bring him to the hospital for her birthday. I had to bring him at night, he's a massive jerk to everyone but us, and would have gone ballistic with the hustle and bustle of the daytime. The biopsy came and went, and confirmed our fears. It, too, was cancerous. What started as cervical cancer had grown to clamp her ureters, and spread elsewhere. A spot on her rib appeared on an MRI, and the GYN/OC jokingly asked if I had been too rough on our wedding night. Her hemorrhaging was growing worse. She was losing so much blood that they had to place her in the ICU. That is where we stayed for the next three weeks. Multiple vaginal packings (literally as it sounds. Stuffing her vagina with medical packing to attempt to compress the tumor and stem the bleeding) and three sessions of radiation treatments later, and she received her first chemo treatment. After the chemo, we were moved back to the cancer ward, this time the palliative care floor.

    We were released home on November 2. Just over five weeks of continuous hospitalization, and it began all of one day after her official diagnosis. Her next chemo treatment was scheduled for a few days later, so we drove back to San Diego. We shaved her head at this point. Her eyes were always my favorite feature on her, and they were never so beautiful as they were that night - like radiant emeralds, beacons of elegance and wonder. There was a miscommunication with either her insurance or the hospital, and chemo couldn't be authorized for that day - it was pushed back to a week later. Three days after the initial scheduled chemo, my wife didn't feel well. Having taken a leave from work the day she was hospitalized with kidney failure, I didn't see a reason to delay taking her right back to San Diego. Her stomach had begun accumulating bile again. She was able to eat for a few days, after the chemo shrank the duodenal mass, but it appeared to have restarted its growth pattern as the drugs filtered out of her system. We stayed in the palliative care unit until Thanksgiving; she was given another round of chemo, and we got to go home. We drove up to Los Alamitos and visited family for the day, and drove back home.

    We made it until my birthday, December 11. She was able to eat some foods, and get around some. If her nephrostomy bags filled, she could urinate a little. The tube that was inserted into her stomach that drained it out wasn't needed all that often, and while I set up her IV each night for nutrition, she was getting a few hundred calories a day from eating and liquids. Still, she spiked a fever, so back to the hospital it was. This ended up being another fairly lengthy stay, taking us to the new year. She spent Christmas in the hospital, and insisted I visit family. A few spots were found elsewhere in her ribs, her shoulder, and her spine. I'm going to fast-forward until late April. We'd been up for immunotherapy after six rounds of chemo. The spots in her ribs, shoulder, and spine were confirmed cancerous, after a spell of belief that it may only be lesions related to chemo. Her liver had a mass by this point, and her adrenal gland had growth that indicated cancer, too. The night before her appointment with the clinical trial reps for immunotherapy, she made me a homecooked meal. From scratch. My lioness.

    After the meeting with the trial reps, my wife didn't feel well. She wanted to be admitted, and the GYN/OC made it happen. It was the last time she was admitted to the hospital. Over the next two weeks, my wife lost her sight, her pain escalated, her coherence waned, and her kidneys began producing blood. She was dying. I was not aware of this; I thought that the new drugs they had placed her on were causing her sight and coherence issues. She was my wife. My rock. My foundation. My everything. She was going to beat this. She'd worked her full-time job with stage 4 cancer all the way until three days before her initial hospitalization on September 26 - her strength tricked me into thinking she was okay this time. She fell into a horrifying spell of pain and restlessness. Nothing worked; if I left her side to use the bathroom, she'd cry out for me. I hadn't slept for days, and I didn't know how to console her. I finally cracked. I couldn't stop from crying. I apologized for not being able to help her or alleviate her pain, and begged for her to hold on, that we might still get the immunotherapy. She turned her head to me, and while she couldn't open her eyes, I knew she was looking at me. She told me it was going to be okay, that I don't need to worry. For the first time in days, she went to sleep. It was only for about an hour, but she summoned the will pull it together because I was struggling. Me, the one who could walk around, eat, go the gym, pee, and use my eyes. She was worried about me. It wasn't the first time she displayed this level of courage, either. When in the ICU early in our journey, she diverted counseling and therapy resources from her to me.

    After waking, she called for me. Not exactly calm, but not as frenzied as before. She asked for my hand, and clasped it between hers. She then said the last coherent thought she ever said to me:

    It feels like took the broken pieces of our lives and made a beautiful painting out of it - and someone has come and knocked it all down.

    I was devastated. I am now, as I type this. She was describing not only her impending death, but our story. An emotionally damaged and stunted young man, incapable of love, was rescued by an abused, neglected young woman. She put years of emotional labor and hard work into me, and just as I was able to return the care and security she deserved, her body betrayed her.

    She was placed into comfort care the next evening, and eventually passed on May 13. I grabbed a protein bar, and decided to talk to her for a bit. I had pulled up my bed and aligned it with hers a couple nights previous and cuddled with her, and talked as long as I could. She couldn't respond, but I hope she heard me. This time, it was shorter, but I was direct. I told her that I knew that the sound of opening my protein bars and any other wrapped item drove her up a wall, and that I'd go to the lounge so as to not annoy her. I told her I loved her, that I was proud of her. That she'd always taken care of me, even when I didn't deserve it. That she has been brave, and fought until her body lost the ability to persevere. I apologized that I wasn't there for her like she was for me, and that I hoped I had finally made her proud. I kissed her on the forehead, and walked to the lounge. By the time I had finished my protein bar, a nurse came in and asked if I was Travis. I started sprinting to our room before she even said my name.

    She was gone.

    I didn't know what to do. I had mostly lived in that hospital since September. I didn't want to go "home" - I would be alone, in the ruins of what we had spent years trying to escape, with no hope of exiting now. Returning to a dead end job without anyone to come home to. I sat in the lounges of numerous floors of the hospital until the early morning hours, and then drove to be with my dad and brother.

    Very shortly after, a week after my wife's passing, I became acquainted with someone I've known for a long time, but never had any interaction with. We immediately hit it off. She had recently left a 12 year relationship. We had a lot in common. Delayed start to life, sort of a solid hardware but terrible software situation. Within a couple weeks, I went to visit her. I'd never bothered to look at her before, but she was absurdly gorgeous, with a body that surpassed that. Guess I was more committed to my wife than I gave myself credit for for not noticing this woman before.

    I spent nearly the entire month of June with her. And most of July. And August - including what would have been my first anniversary. And September. I'd picked up a new job a county over by dumb luck in July, and moved my dad into my old place. He was sleeping in his car at the time, having been evicted from his father's house (my dad was sued out of the will and forced to leave the home - that family is a wreck). He's not a great person, but he's tried to make amends to some degree, and he's my dad. I don't want him on the street. The connection I developed with this woman was unlike any I'd ever had with anyone, and I got to have sex, too. A lot of it. Whenever I wanted it. I have an appetite, and for the first time in my life, I ate. She told me she loved me for the first time on October 13. I'd experienced a few twinges in my low back during the last couple days, but I figured it was just because I had been sitting more often than I typically do, that it'd clear up once I got off my butt. Later that day, I sat up off the couch to head home (renting a room from someone, I was hardly ever there), and my back went out. I called out from work the next day, and figured I'd be okay to go back Tuesday. I wasn't, so I called out again. I was concerned, but I'm in my mid 30s now. Maybe it would just take me longer to recover from a strain or spasms than it used to.

    Then it got really bad. I got up to pee that Tuesday, and I collapsed to the floor. My entire back seized, and any movement sent shockwaves throughout my body. It took me 45 minutes to crawl to the bathroom, and I somehow was able to pull myself up far enough to pee in the toilet. As soon as I was finished, I crumpled to the floor until my girlfriend got home from work. It took us 5 agonizing hours to get from her bathroom to the trunk of her car, and we went to the ER. First time ever getting an IV (I hate needles), and of course, I couldn't help but think of the tens of ER trips I had gone through with my wife. I couldn't sit or stand, but I wasn't dying. It wasn't like what my wife went through. But she wasn't there with me. My strength. My rock.

    I only stayed overnight, and had my brother pick me up and take me to my girlfriend's house. I could barely move, but I managed to get myself into bed. A week passes. Then my brother calls me.

    He found my mom. Dead.

    During the entirety of the cancer struggle with my wife, my mom wasn't present. She had been committed to a mental facility before my wife's diagnosis, and was getting involved with awful people. I spent countless nights in the hospital wishing I could have my mom with me, to tell me everything would be okay. Even if it was a lie. I wanted that. I needed that. I didn't get it. I didn't have my mom with me at my wife's wedding, our reception, to help me clean the house and go through my wife's things. None of it. Didn't get reconciliation, any absolution for the terrible things she said and did over the last few years.

    I hadn't returned to work yet, and I wasn't anywhere near doing so. It took another two weeks before I was able to get home and see a chiropractor. Imaging showed likely multiple herniated discs, damage to my L4 and L5, and severe misalignment. He gave two options: go next door for surgery, or we can try to work on it and make it better. It was November 7, and I couldn't sit for more than a few minutes, and standing for more than 30 was painful. I saw the chiro three times a week, and I started to improve. I was able to stand upright and walk again. I watched my girlfriend's dog as she traveled to be with her mom for Thanksgiving, and then her birthday (a week apart). My work didn't yet want me to return, and they resisted setting me up at home so I could work from there. I was frustrated, but I focused on recovering. My birthday came and went, the girlfriend and I started planning how we'd live together, and I was continuing to improve. I watched her dog again as she went to Texas to be with her sister and mom. I love that dog. He kind of reminded me of mine, minus the $#@!ry. My dog is still with my dad at my old place.

    Then New Year's Eve happened. My work called me, and informed me that they'd been having financial issues since early November, and had to let me go. They told me that had I come back and worked for them when I wanted to, they wouldn't have been able to pay me. Great. I got to break the news to my girlfriend. She was less than pleased with me. I hadn't been to the gym since my back injury, the longest period of time I'd been away from it in 15 years. I didn't start by lifting heavy weight or attempting advanced lifts, but I incorporated a few decompression exercises to help my back. I also took that weekend to finally clean out my mom's house and collect valuables, keepsakes, etc. And then it hit me.

    I hadn't mourned the loss of my mother.

    It hit me hard. I had coordinated her mortuary services and the cleanup efforts for the house, the second time in five months I spearheaded such an effort. Both with the women who had been closest to me in my life. It was the first holiday season without my wife since 2006, and ever without my mom. I spent a total of 15 days alone with my girlfriend's dog, bonding heavily with him over these 7 months and particularly while watching him. She'd been missing her mom and sister, and I helped give her the ability to visit them. I also saved her a significant amount of money in boarding fees and emotional distress on her dog. But back to the point, I hadn't let myself grieve my mom's passing. And it was awful. It ripped open many of the freshly healed wounds I had with my wife.

    I got through the weekend, which concluded with what would have been my mom's 56th birthday, and looked at the positive. I had a gorgeous girlfriend, I was able to workout again, and I had an interview lined up for Tuesday. I reconnected with my therapist, found a grief support group, and had a plan to take classes starting this summer. The gf asked if I was available for her to come by, and I said yes, of course. I was ready to have a huge conversation with her. Tell her my plans for school, my excitement for the job opportunity (my friend is friends with the CEO), let her know that I reconnected with my therapist so I could sort through my mourning, and that I wanted us to close in and create our own little village. The two of us.

    She walked in, ushered me into my room, dropped a few bags of things, and sat me down. She was struggling and withdrawing, and needed to focus on herself. She didn't allow for discussion, asked me not to come to her house or contact her, thanked me for loving her, and ran out the door. Literally.

    That was the 6th of this month. My extended family thinks I'm not doing anything to help myself, that I'm looking for a handout. That my back injury wasn't serious, that I used it as an excuse to not work. They're upset that I didn't return to the dump of a trailer and my old, barely above minimum wage job. They're upset I didn't sell the property the trailer is on to secure my finances (I met with a probate attorney in front of an extended family member, and was informed that I should not sell until a year after her passing- it would open me up to liability for bill collectors to come after me for my wife's medical debts. So this one is particularly rich, since said family member is the source for this), and have taken all of this to mean that I am refusing their help. I would like to point out that I stretched the money my wife and I had through that whole process, and by the time my back injury occurred, I had an 800 credit score, zero balance on all credit lines, and 5k in the bank.

    These last two weeks have been the worst of my life. I've been alone, I'm terribly isolated and being scolded by family. The person I most want to run to is out in the ether. I sent an email last weekend, and called two nights ago. No response. I can't do this anymore. The lion lost his lioness. The semidios calls out for his diosa, and she does not answer. I don't want to do this anymore. I have no purpose in life. I don't know how I'm going to make rent on the first. I'm mourning and grieving, and nobody wants to be around me. I think it's time for me to end it and check out of this life.

    Go get a physical and bloodwork done. Go hug your loved one. Everything you know can change in a day.
    Quote Originally Posted by Ron Paul
    Perhaps the most important lesson from Obamacare is that while liberty is lost incrementally, it cannot be regained incrementally. The federal leviathan continues its steady growth; sometimes boldly and sometimes quietly. Obamacare is just the latest example, but make no mistake: the statists are winning. So advocates of liberty must reject incremental approaches and fight boldly for bedrock principles.
    The epitome of libertarian populism



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  3. #2
    geez man, that is a tough lot. I don't know what else to say.

  4. #3
    Sorry you're going through such a hard time. Hopefully you'll be able to bounce back.
    "Perhaps one of the most important accomplishments of my administration is minding my own business."

    Calvin Coolidge

  5. #4
    Well, you still have us, so life can't be that bad
    It's all about taking action and not being lazy. So you do the work, whether it's fitness or whatever. It's about getting up, motivating yourself and just doing it.
    - Kim Kardashian

    Donald Trump / Crenshaw 2024!!!!

    My pronouns are he/him/his

  6. #5
    Im so sorry for your loss, be strong.
    FLIP THOSE FLAGS, THE NATION IS IN DISTRESS!


    why I should worship the state (who apparently is the only party that can possess guns without question).
    The state's only purpose is to kill and control. Why do you worship it? - Sola_Fide

    Baptiste said.
    At which point will Americans realize that creating an unaccountable institution that is able to pass its liability on to tax-payers is immoral and attracts sociopaths?

  7. #6
    Wow. I’m so sorry for all the loss in your life. Hope things start to turn around for you this year,
    #NashvilleStrong

    “I’m a doctor. That’s a baby.”~~~Dr. Manny Sethi

  8. #7
    I can't imagine what it's like to go through the things you have.

    More importantly, I can't imagine the strength of will and character that you've shown to withstand all those challenges and wind up, in many ways, in a better place.

    This makes you an incredibly worthwhile human being, imho.

    I, for one, hope you stick around.

  9. #8
    Quote Originally Posted by buck000 View Post
    I can't imagine what it's like to go through the things you have.

    More importantly, I can't imagine the strength of will and character that you've shown to withstand all those challenges and wind up, in many ways, in a better place.

    This makes you an incredibly worthwhile human being, imho.

    I, for one, hope you stick around.
    I agree wholeheartedly.

    I am sorry for your loss.
    “The spirits of darkness are now among us. We have to be on guard so that we may realize what is happening when we encounter them and gain a real idea of where they are to be found. The most dangerous thing you can do in the immediate future will be to give yourself up unconsciously to the influences which are definitely present.” ~ Rudolf Steiner



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  11. #9
    Keep fighting man!

  12. #10
    I think it's time for me to end it and check out of this life.
    Call this number right now.

    1-800-273-8255

    Then continue to talk to all of us here.

    Checking out would dishonor the lioness you still mourn for.
    Another mark of a tyrant is that he likes foreigners better than citizens, and lives with them and invites them to his table; for the one are enemies, but the Others enter into no rivalry with him. - Aristotle's Politics Book 5 Part 11

  13. #11
    Mourning is a process with different phases. Takes a while to go through it. And winter can be depressing. Spring and summer usually make people feel a bit better.

    I knew a guy who went through losing his wife in a similar situation. They married young, and she passed from cancer around 30. It wasn’t easy for him, but he has since remarried has a couple of kids. Things turns around.

    One example of a meditation video that is available:

    "Foreign aid is taking money from the poor people of a rich country, and giving it to the rich people of a poor country." - Ron Paul
    "Beware the Military-Industrial-Financial-Pharma-Corporate-Internet-Media-Government Complex." - B4L update of General Dwight D. Eisenhower
    "Debt is the drug, Wall St. Banksters are the dealers, and politicians are the addicts." - B4L
    "Totally free immigration? I've never taken that position. I believe in national sovereignty." - Ron Paul

    Proponent of real science.
    The views and opinions expressed here are solely my own, and do not represent this forum or any other entities or persons.

  14. #12
    Quote Originally Posted by Feeding the Abscess View Post
    nobody wants to be around me.
    Well, where are you?
    There are no crimes against people.
    There are only crimes against the state.
    And the state will never, ever choose to hold accountable its agents, because a thing can not commit a crime against itself.

  15. #13
    In my experience, alcohol is great for resolving these types of problems
    It's all about taking action and not being lazy. So you do the work, whether it's fitness or whatever. It's about getting up, motivating yourself and just doing it.
    - Kim Kardashian

    Donald Trump / Crenshaw 2024!!!!

    My pronouns are he/him/his

  16. #14
    Quote Originally Posted by Feeding the Abscess View Post
    Everything you know can change in a day.
    Yes it can.
    That was actually painful to read.

    We are all a bunch of Broken.. less than what we should be..

    1980,,extreme Manic Depression,,
    I found myself in a Jail Cell,, with a life thoroughly destroyed.

    I met Jesus Christ... and though it has still been weird at times,,, He has never left me.

    Seek God..first. before you go meet Him.
    Liberty is lost through complacency and a subservient mindset. When we accept or even welcome automobile checkpoints, random searches, mandatory identification cards, and paramilitary police in our streets, we have lost a vital part of our American heritage. America was born of protest, revolution, and mistrust of government. Subservient societies neither maintain nor deserve freedom for long.
    Ron Paul 2004

    Registered Ron Paul supporter # 2202
    It's all about Freedom

  17. #15
    That's terrible.
    @Feeding the Abscess, don't give in, where there is life there is hope, your wife would NOT want you to give up.
    Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

    Robert Heinlein

    Give a man an inch and right away he thinks he's a ruler

    Groucho Marx

    I love mankind…it’s people I can’t stand.

    Linus, from the Peanuts comic

    You cannot have liberty without morality and morality without faith

    Alexis de Torqueville

    Those who fail to learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
    Those who learn from the past are condemned to watch everybody else repeat it

    A Zero Hedge comment

  18. #16
    I hope things improve for you . Do not give up . Let AF know if there is anything we can help with , Oyarde.
    Do something Danke



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  20. #17
    I've been thinking about you all day. Read most of your post before I had to leave. Came back home and read the rest.

    That's too much on one person's shoulders. Please check in and let us know how you're doing. What can we do? Anything?
    You need someone to talk to about your grief. I'm so sorry you've been through so much. Please let us know how you're doing.

  21. #18
    Keep people close who can help you emotionally, and put a hold on those who don't.

    Better days are coming if you can just hang in long enough to get your health and finances back together. The rest will come.

  22. #19
    I am so sorry for your loss may your loved ones RIP.

    You can get thru this. I know it is hard. My mom and my husband both died in the same month. It seemed like life made no sense but I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and was able to walk out of it.

    That was over 2 years ago. RPF was here for me while I went thru it and it helped so much. I still miss them both but, it feels like they send me blessings all the time to give me strength to go on because every day brings a new challenge and a new way to deal with it. Take care of yourself and don't give up. Life has many tragedies but, don't let evil defeat you the tragedies won't defeat you but, evil will if you let it.

  23. #20
    Quote Originally Posted by Working Poor View Post
    I am so sorry for your loss may your loved ones RIP.

    You can get thru this. I know it is hard. My mom and my husband both died in the same month. It seemed like life made no sense but I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and was able to walk out of it.

    That was over 2 years ago. RPF was here for me while I went thru it and it helped so much. I still miss them both but, it feels like they send me blessings all the time to give me strength to go on because every day brings a new challenge and a new way to deal with it. Take care of yourself and don't give up. Life has many tragedies but, don't let evil defeat you the tragedies won't defeat you but, evil will if you let it.
    This.

    Life can deal some $#@! you don't think you can possibly deal with, but you can. No matter how much it hurts. I'm not going to go into my life, but if you want someone to talk to brother, just PM me or whatever, I'll gladly give you my number.
    "The Patriarch"

  24. #21
    I cried several times reading this. I wish I had something useful to say. Just...

    My life has followed the same trajectory (sans the death). When we are told all our lives that we are no good, we can't see how strong we really are. You are stronger than you knew, and you can see that If you look at everything. I won't tell you everything will get better, that would be a lie; life is a game of whack a mole, and we are the mole. But who knows, it could get better. Either way, it's never too late to not make things worse.

    Peace
    Amash>Trump

    ΟΥ ΓΑΡ ЄCΤΙΝ ЄξΟΥCΙΑ ЄΙ ΜΗ ΥΠΟ ΘЄΟΥ

    "Patriotism should come from loving thy neighbor, not from worshiping graven images" - Ironman77

    "ideas have the potential of being more powerful than any army....The concept of personal sovereignty was pulled screaming from the ether into this reality by the force of men believing in a self evident truth, that men are meant to be free." - The Northbreather

    "Trump is the security blanket of aggrieved white men aged 18-60." - Pinoy

  25. #22
    Quote Originally Posted by Feeding the Abscess View Post
    I've been alone, I'm terribly isolated
    Well you are neither, here. I sent you a PM and I imagine others have too. You have friends here. Talk to us.
    There are no crimes against people.
    There are only crimes against the state.
    And the state will never, ever choose to hold accountable its agents, because a thing can not commit a crime against itself.

  26. #23
    Quote Originally Posted by TheTexan View Post
    In my experience, alcohol is great for resolving these types of problems
    Just because it always worked for me does not mean it should tried at home , I am a professional.
    Do something Danke

  27. #24
    Does anyone know Feeding IRL?
    Another mark of a tyrant is that he likes foreigners better than citizens, and lives with them and invites them to his table; for the one are enemies, but the Others enter into no rivalry with him. - Aristotle's Politics Book 5 Part 11



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  29. #25
    I wish I knew Feeding irl. I'd be checking up on him everyday to make sure hes ok.
    "Perhaps one of the most important accomplishments of my administration is minding my own business."

    Calvin Coolidge

  30. #26
    Quote Originally Posted by Anti Federalist View Post
    Does anyone know Feeding IRL?
    Quote Originally Posted by Anti Globalist View Post
    I wish I knew Feeding irl. I'd be checking up on him everyday to make sure hes ok.
    Is it time for a welfare check?
    It's all about taking action and not being lazy. So you do the work, whether it's fitness or whatever. It's about getting up, motivating yourself and just doing it.
    - Kim Kardashian

    Donald Trump / Crenshaw 2024!!!!

    My pronouns are he/him/his

  31. #27
    Still thinking about you and hoping you're ok.

  32. #28
    Quote Originally Posted by Anti Federalist View Post
    Does anyone know Feeding IRL?
    The off side of internet anonymity..

    Liberty is lost through complacency and a subservient mindset. When we accept or even welcome automobile checkpoints, random searches, mandatory identification cards, and paramilitary police in our streets, we have lost a vital part of our American heritage. America was born of protest, revolution, and mistrust of government. Subservient societies neither maintain nor deserve freedom for long.
    Ron Paul 2004

    Registered Ron Paul supporter # 2202
    It's all about Freedom

  33. #29
    Chester Copperpot
    Member

    All I can say is that every heartache, every adversity, and every failure in life, caries with it the seed of an equivalent or greater benefit.


    Its not always clear to us, however during the time we go through these things.

  34. #30
    He is crying out for help if anyone has any info on this person they need to do something to help him. Does this site capture IP addresses ? That might be a start.

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