I was thinking of the twin horrors of childhood and workplace and reflected on those who've gone through this shit before me.It was a process and they got through it. They did various things, such as therapy, but time was a factor. It took two years for relationships to settle to a point where they were happy.I'm still fresh, in the early months of re-trauma and it's a recovery process that will take effort and time.
Articles from Harrangue Man
I was unloading the dishwasher when my doctor-ordered short shorts fell past my arseline. Behind me was the crockery cupboard, at arse level, which was open to receive that which I was getting from the dishwasher. That's when I farted into the cupboard. It's not like I backed up with a reverse beeping noise, and there was no "spackle" as best I could tell—it was just a dry rectal cough.
With thanks to Elvira.My ever boil gets tended every night. It's on the inside of my right thigh. It gets squeezed, stuff comes out and a poultice is applied by thewife.Unless we close the door the black cat will come, hop on my tummy and watch the show. Because all the action is down there it means I get a great view of her enormous arsehole. As far as cats I know she has the biggest actual action area and the feline eye of Mordor was two inches from my eyes.
"Stop talking about your childhood," he said. He was right, I shouldn't have been. I told him I was proud that he was a better kid than me but added "but then you had better parents" because I pride myself I am in no way like the pair who made me self-hate from his age on.He walked off down the corridor after saying it and I had a deep anxiety attack where I cried and struggled to articulate because I was ripped to the core. He was right. I should stop talking about my childhood.
I don't have any corncobs to feed the chickens with as a treat but we do have tinned corn kernels. But just ladling out the kernels is not stimulating for them or for me. With the cob they have to actively engage with the food whilst dealing with other chickens.
There's no art to throwing a bike chain—though being in first gear is always riskier—but in my case it's physics. I am a big person on a big frame and over time things get loose and the chain starts coming off.I had accepted that the outside ride was dead after the chain came off the fourth time and I had enough battery to throttle home. Angry mentally ill Mikey would have had a spack attack at that and ranted about forces working against him.
I am always in pain; it's the severity that's the issue. But I bear it because I have no choice. It was inflicted on me by someone who should have known better. My son knows I have a body that's not sound. Because I am scared my rotteness passed on to him. But no, mine was gestational and not genetic so he will be okay.He knows I'm in pain. He knows severity is the issue.
There's a lane-way near our house that is bracketed by original wooden fences falling into disrepair. One day, as I was either walking or cycling through it, I saw two of the boards from the left fence had fallen, rusty nail side up—a disease-inducing caltrop in other words.
The main interest point from the Stormy Daniels interview is the fact someone accosted her in a car park in 2011 and told her to lay off talking about her affair with the now current POTUS.It ful!y reminded me of that bit from The Simpsons when Bart answe
Being home I go bare-footed save that I re-started an old habit of picking the thick skin at the bottom of my paddle-feet---"These are the worst feet I have ever seen" said one podiatrist---likely because I stopped picking my face. I picked at both feet and drew blood. Because it feels weird to have different levels of skin thickness due the depth of my sole skin it is incredibly seductive to someone with OCPD to have a go at.Solution; I am now wearings socks.