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Thread: What's your backstory?

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    Default What's your backstory?

    How did your past influence your present?
    You can even frame it like a wikipedia article (Traumatic Childhood > Education > Accomplishments > First Love > BABY > FIRST MURDER > First Novel)
    Be as gaudy or drab as you wish.

    inspired by @reverie's thread

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    it's ok, everything will be fine totalize's Avatar
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    My father was a judge, political organiser, and dissident. My mother ran a dance school. They get married in order to have me. My father was afraid of detention without trial and we run to this country. The Government withdrew the Pound Sterling from the European Exchange Rate Mechanism and the interest rate crumbles — so does our family wealth (held liquidly and not in equity). My parents break up. I grow up and learn to read, play, love and live in the ruins of a lost childhood. I went back and forth between this country and the other country very often. I flew alone intercontinentally for the first time at age eleven. My parents broke up, my mother remarried. I went to university and studied Law and it was boring and I quit. My father died. I lived overseas in the developing world for six years until I came back here, and here I am, building my life again, from scratch.
    CETERUM AUTEM CENSEO WASHINGTON D.C. ESSE DELENDAM

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    Quote Originally Posted by totalize View Post
    My father was a judge, political organiser, and dissident. My mother ran a dance school. They get married in order to have me. My father was afraid of detention without trial and we run to this country. The Government withdrew the Pound Sterling from the European Exchange Rate Mechanism and the interest rate crumbles — so does our family wealth (held liquidly and not in equity). My parents break up. I grow up and learn to read, play, love and live in the ruins of a lost childhood. I went back and forth between this country and the other country very often. I flew alone intercontinentally for the first time at age eleven. My parents broke up, my mother remarried. I went to university and studied Law and it was boring and I quit. My father died. I lived overseas in the developing world for six years until I came back here, and here I am, building my life again, from scratch.
    Sorry to hear about your father. Have you ever considered writing a story or novel based on your childhood? It wouldn't need to be for public consumption, but it's different and interesting. It's reminiscent of Humans of New York. Where do you hope to go from here? If you don't mind me asking.

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    I was born in a war-torn country in the Balkans. My mother was a fairy. My father was a brick-wall. My childhood, it's a bit of mystery. We emigrated from one country to the next before we finally found our roots in Canada. Somewhere between the dramatic shift of scenery from a homely environment surrounded by family to a refugee camp surrounded by strangers, I lost a part of myself that I have yet to retrieve. I lost myself even further in athletics, which proved not to be the path for me, so I turned to my current boyfriend, the Internet, for empty entertainment solidarity. For years I was trapped in a haze where cyberspace took precedence over meatspace. My friends and family distanced, my studies suffered, my hobbies waned. Now the crux of my memories from that time period are permeated by a sense of longing for a past that ceases to exist. It's as if my body existed on one plane, reality, while my brain lackadaisically navigated through a thick fog of dissociation, internalizing only a tiny subset of my experiences, prioritizing fantasy over reality.

    I've lived a relatively charmed life, but I think I'm still in the process of making amends with my hazy and disjointed backstory, which might be why I created this thread. I was curious how many other people felt as lost and confused as me, so we wouldn't feel so lonely in our search for clarity.

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    it's ok, everything will be fine totalize's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by wasp View Post
    Sorry to hear about your father. Have you ever considered writing a story or novel based on your childhood? It wouldn't need to be for public consumption, but it's different and interesting. It's reminiscent of Humans of New York. Where do you hope to go from here? If you don't mind me asking.
    I thought about it. But I will not write something that is not read.

    Quote Originally Posted by wasp View Post
    I was born in a war-torn country in the Balkans. My mother was a fairy. My father was a brick-wall. My childhood, it's a bit of mystery. We emigrated from one country to the next before we finally found our roots in Canada. Somewhere between the dramatic shift of scenery from a homely environment surrounded by family to a refugee camp surrounded by strangers, I lost a part of myself that I have yet to retrieve. I lost myself even further in athletics, which proved not to be the path for me, so I turned to my current boyfriend, the Internet, for empty entertainment solidarity. For years I was trapped in a haze where cyberspace took precedence over meatspace. My friends and family distanced, my studies suffered, my hobbies waned. Now the crux of my memories from that time period are permeated by a sense of longing for a past that ceases to exist. It's as if my body existed on one plane, reality, while my brain lackadaisically navigated through a thick fog of dissociation, internalizing only a tiny subset of my experiences, prioritizing fantasy over reality.

    I've lived a relatively charmed life, but I think I'm still in the process of making amends with my hazy and disjointed backstory, which might be why I created this thread. I was curious how many other people felt as lost and confused as me, so we wouldn't feel so lonely in our search for clarity.
    IME making amends with a disjointed backstory requires a lot of soul-searching. But now I know who I am, and it does help. Good luck !
    CETERUM AUTEM CENSEO WASHINGTON D.C. ESSE DELENDAM

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    "The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it."

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    Early Childhood (0-7)

    • Problems with swallowing properly (haha). It was like there was some extra space in my throat which hadn't grown together yet. This would cause problems during breast-feeding. My mother was concerned I'd die during sleep, so she went with me to a sleep clinic for a night and let doctors observe me and all. At one time, I almost choked to death or didn't breath (don't remember that part). My mother called the ambulance. I actually remember the ambulance drive, but I don't remember whether it was the drive towards the ambulance or home. I actually found it exciting, ha. I've also had a case of asthma and my mother would let me inhale something from a huge thing (it was not your regular inhalator) up until I was 8 (then I mostly didn't need it anymore). The empty space in my throat grew together eventually, and now I don't have any problems with swallowing anymore.

    • At one point my mother got suddenly really sick when I was just 2 or 3 and had to stay in the hospital for a month or so, and during that time I had to stay over at friends of my grandparents'. I found out about that fact only a few years ago, because I did not remember that incident at all.

    • All in all, I am pretty sure that's how my attachment style got formed; my mother being suddenly taken away from me at a young age, and being thrown into a situation with total strangers, in my mind. And the "problem with swallowing" part is a classic way how you become a Type 4; I read that 4s usually felt like they were "rejected from the source" at a young age, which could mean rejection from a parent, or in my case abstractly feeling rejected during breastfeeding; and the Type 4 child internalizes this rejection, not knowing what caused it, and just assumes that something is deeply wrong with them, and that is why they got rejected, and that feeling/fear of rejection continues on into adulthood.

    • I used to be proud of never crying in public; I thought those kids who cried after getting hurt were weak. And I'd tell people I never cried. I remember that one time in preschool when I stumbled and fell to the ground suddenly, the surface was quite rough, and it hurt my knees. But I did not cry; no emotion well up in me, beside some dull pain. I just sat there for a while. I was alone, no one was near me. So I just got up. But I would cry in private. I remember times after feeling mistreated or misunderstood by my parents sitting alone in my loft bed and crying silently to myself. I cannot remember being ever really consoled when I cried, because I only cried in private.

    • Talking of my loft bed, it was full of books, to the point I sometimes could hardly move around in it. Also, I had this irrational fear of a vampire biting into my ear at night, so I'd always pull the covers over my ear. That fear only stopped once I dreamt/daydreamed that I was kicking a vampire's ass and made him eat garlic so he suffered and got defeated. Then my fear of vampires was completely gone.

    • I was very protective of my private space; my little brother would always be curious and wanna go up my loft bed and check it out; I hated that. One time when he tried to climb up to it, I loosened his fingers from the steps, and he fell down backwards into a closet and broke his collarbone.

    • I had a close relationship with my mother, perhaps even too close to some extent. My father wasn't home a lot during my early childhood because of work; it felt "special" whenever he was home (that's likely how I started to associate distance or unavailability with love). I loved it when my mother read bedtime stories to me, especially fantasy ones involving witches and fairies and vampires and all that Type 4 stuff. I was a quiet and kind child, supposedly. I liked playing by myself, alone. I could get lost just reading or watching movies by myself. I did have a few friends in kindergarten, and my best friend was a male xSI. But large stretches of my childhood did feel somewhat lonesome, despite the fact my mother was around me a lot. At some point, she quit her job and became a stay-at-home-mother. I remember moments when my mother was being overly emotional and sad (her grandpa had died during that time), and that I was the one who had to console her.

    • Often times I had mysterious stomach aches, and I never understood why I had them, it was just random really painful aches. No one did anything about it, and me neither. I still don't know what it was. Maybe it was just psycho-somatic.

    • Sometimes I could not sleep and stayed awake for a long time, and then I looked at the objects and my hands in the dim light of the night, and I saw those tiny dots moving around, and forming into little people at times... they seemed alive, and I knew it was my imagination, but it was entertaining nonetheless. It's similar to seeing faces in the wall, or seeing little monsters in the objects of your bedroom; I did see those things a lot in my LSI cousin's bedroom when I slept over. (We were very close friends back then.) Anyhow, those dots were all around the contours of the objects and seemed to dance a little. In retrospect, I got to assume that those dots were somehow a reflection of those dot like color "seeing" things in your brain or eye or whatever, I forgot the specifics... So perhaps when it was dark they try to "fill out" the space, for there is a lack of color due to the lack of light etc etc. Those dots were kind of similar to those you can see when you close your eyes and shut them really tight. I used to be fascinated by how the darkness and those little dots could look like the night sky when I closed my eyes really tight. I also had this odd thing where before I finally fell asleep, I always felt like I was squeezing my body through what I imagined was a rusty hoop; it was like I was squeezing myself through it, and its contours were made out of the hands of crabs, so it felt prickly. I am assuming now that this is how I experienced falling into sleep paralysis. Whenever I went through that hoop, I fell asleep immediately. When I got older, the hoop disappeared, and I fell asleep without it.

    • In preschool, there was a young blonde woman who'd visit us once in a while (she was likely an intern), and she could draw manga really well, and her skills inspired me to try drawing well too, so I was an avid drawer as a kid and enjoyed drawing manga in my early teens, but then I completely stopped because I felt like drawing was not my true talent. I also met another blonde girl who became my best female friend during that time, and she said she wanted to become a vet, and we could be vets together, and because I liked her and didn't know much about jobs and careers at all, I somewhat reluctantly agreed to become a vet. My father found this idea preposterous and would constantly make fun of it. I continued on wanting to be a vet even when I wasn't in contact with her anymore up until my early teens almost, and that is when I finally gave in and was like "yeah, nope". On some level, that was my father's fault, but at the same time I do realize that being a vet was never truly what my real calling was. I was just holding unto a child's dream, one that involved a dear friend I've once had.

    • I hardly talked. No one really knew why. I did not feel like something was wrong with me. But whenever my aunt tried to get me talking, I just wouldn't or couldn't do it. I felt like words were unnecessary, and that what I experienced could not be put into words anyway. I felt like words were inconsequential. My mother told me whenever I did speak, it was incoherent. I did not want to talk on my own accord, because I did not see the point in it, but I started to do it more for other people's sake. Once I could talk well or better and hung out with my father, he'd call me a "radio", because I talked so much. That made me sad sometimes. A few years ago I asked my mother why I did not talk, and she said no one knew why. The only possible cause could be the time when she was in the hospital for a while etc.; perhaps that had been so traumatic to me that I ended up not wanting to talk, because I'd feel like no one could truly hear (and understand) me anyway. I went to speech therapy up until I was almost 7. That's also why I got put into school one year late, besides having to move to a different place.

    • When I was 7, our house was being built somewhere else, and the school was there, so my mother would drive me there every morning, it was quite a stretch away, and that is why I often would be a bit late to class, but my teacher was very understanding of it. We moved in when I was 8.

    • When my father was home and had free time, we would go to the movies or fair together, which I really loved and still love to do today.

    • My father used to own a motorbike or two sometimes, and for really short amounts of time would go on one with me and drive around on it (not on the streets or in public), and I loved that so much that I wanted to get a motorcycle license when I was older. But a year or so before I finally went to driving school, I let this aspiration fall away; mainly because I felt like I'd suck at driving a motorcycle and would probably just kill myself driving it.
    Last edited by Olimpia; 09-18-2017 at 09:45 AM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Olimpia View Post
    • I hardly talked. No one really knew why. I did not feel like something was wrong with me. But whenever my aunt tried to get me talking, I just wouldn't or couldn't do it. I felt like words were unnecessary, and that what I experienced could not be put into words anyway. I felt like words were inconsequential. My mother told me whenever I did speak, it was incoherent. I did not want to talk on my own accord, because I did not see the point in it, but I started to do it more for other people's sake. Once I could talk well or better and hung out with my father, he'd call me a "radio", because I talked so much. That made me sad sometimes. A few years ago I asked my mother why I did not talk, and she said no one knew why. The only possible cause could be the time when she was in the hospital for a while etc.; perhaps that had been so traumatic to me that I ended up not wanting to talk, because I'd feel like no one could truly hear (and understand) me anyway. I went to speech therapy up until I was almost 7. That's also why I got put into school one year late, besides having to move to a different place.
    I also didn't talk at school... but that was only after I had moved to another school, so that was probably just a defense mechanism to avoid embarrassment or something like that. It's not that I didn't want to talk, but words wouldn't come out of my mouth and my mind would go blank. Also had to do with the fact that I had moved to another country and didn't speak the language there, but then again my brothers talked, so eh.

    • I used to be proud of never crying in public; I thought those kids who cried after getting hurt were weak. And I'd tell people I never cried. I remember that one time in preschool when I stumbled and fell to the ground suddenly, the surface was quite rough, and it hurt my knees. But I did not cry; no emotion well up in me, beside some dull pain. I just sat there for a while. I was alone, no one was near me. So I just got up. But I would cry in private. I remember times after feeling mistreated or misunderstood by my parents sitting alone in my loft bed and crying silently to myself. I cannot remember being ever really consoled when I cried, because I only cried in private.
    On the contrary, I often cried in public, even though I didn't exactly know why I did... I was way too sensitive... but I hardly ever cried over physical pain... I was more likely to cry over emotional pain I guess.

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    Insight into my backstory can perhaps be best comprehended through emails to my male parent with whom contact was made after 40 + years



    Hi Dad,

    I'm finding writing about childhood days and teen years a really difficult topic so am just going to start rolling with thoughts and see what comes out...

    As (sister) and I spent most of every weekend and free day outside, I spent much time thinking, praying, hoola hooping, biking and interacting with other kids. When inside I read lots to myself and others, did arts & crafts, played board games, invented new games to play with (sister), liked to watch Science Fiction shows like Star Trek and was interested in the spiritual & supernatural.

    (Sister) and I were raised when still young in a Maori environment where we were the only white girls (pakeha). We lived for a time in a house beside the marae. I learnt to speak some basic Maori but these days can't remember as much as I would like.
    Below you will find a little of the history of what a marae is and our tribe we belonged to through our Dad (step) (Maori name).

    *links removed

    When young I was very good at subjects like English and was given free reign to do what I liked as I very quickly finished all available materials at school.

    Once my cousin (through marriage) (name) & I won a school talent show by performing a comedy skit together...think I would have been far too shy to do this without her participation as I was quiet kid.

    AIthough I was shy other kids seemed to always like me which was good. So I had plenty of friends wherever I was. And yes the boys liked me too and often I had the most fun with my male friends doing things like biking and exploring.

    Mum was a terrible cook and made us sit at the table until we had eaten the most terrible foods like Pig Trotters, Kina, Lamb's Brain, Tongues etc, so very often I refused to eat whereas (sister) would hide hers to get out of punishments. Because of this we would pick ourselves lots of fruit from plants we came across like blackberries, lemons, apples, guavas and fejoas. We had great fun doing this as sometimes the fruit was guarded by bulls or goats.

    As a family we nearly always would go exploring parks, beaches, rivers, lakes & forests etc nearly every Sunday without fail. (Stepdad) would happily drive our little Morris Oxford? car which was very artistically painted and know us girls would sink down trying to not be seen, lol. (Stepdad) knew we were hiding so sometimes he would try and tease us by loudly honking horn in front of others. We went camping in tents for holidays and (sister) & I were sometimes sent away on camps to various places where we had fun.

    I awoke each night to care for my twin sisters when they were babies as Mum was not up to it. Thankfully one was a good sleeper and the other was easily settled.

    From the age of 13 I pretty much bought all of my own clothes and other items. I paid for them through an afternoon job at a dairy. Before this mum really just paid for some undergarments & made school uniform and I wore hand me downs from church & friends. I also learnt to sew and made myself some clothes which were somewhat wearable :-)

    I biked & walked everywhere. House partied with my friends when older. I loved biking to a spot where I could look at water and just sit and think. Went to church with Mum sometimes and even by myself.

    Mum wanted me to leave home from age of 14 and provide for myself - I got a job as a (job title) and moved out when 15 into my own rental but then moved home again for a month or so at some stage before leaving again to another flat where a friend joined. Was moving back home again when mum informed me that she was going to (overseas location) with everyone but if I was to go also I had 3 weeks to pay my fare. This didn't happen so I stayed in NZ.

    I saved for an ear pinning operation and paid for braces on my teeth and tried to find a specialist knowledgeable about my facial deformity. Once when I was around 11 I was hospitalized when a huge bloodclot was formed in my Venous Malformation.

    Well that covers enough for now I guess...


    *Hi Dad, these are the parts of childhood I left out yesterday and this is for your eyes only xo
    Before you read please remember that Mum has apologized and I forgive. Though still I doubt she comprehends the full effect this has all had on my life.

    'How could this lady be my mother' I used to sit and think. I was only 6 years old at this stage but had already been through much. Sent outside not long after breakfast into the car park of our group of flats...where four long rows of buildings stood in an industrial suburb of the city.
    We were allowed in for about 15 minutes for lunch and then had to pass more time until dinner. If we needed to urgently go toilet we had to plead to enter the house to which it always seemed as if the floors were being washed as a reason for non entry...seriously did floors have to be washed this often...why lock those you love out...
    Thankfully when the rain poured we could stay and do indoor activities...but always had to completely clean as soon as finished and keep noise down...Mum was super strict back then.
    Bedtime was like clockwork at 7pm until I was around 9 where another half an hour was added on. So (Stepdad) understood why I crawled under the couch to watch a show or movie now and then. I had to keep so silent to not set Mum off. Mum who suffered from depression...Depression ruled Mum who belted me for no reason..sometimes it was the jug cord at others it was her use of (stepdad's) huge thick leather belt with enourmous metal buckles, sometimes it was the hand ,ruler or back of the mop or broom. Why God why, I'm a good kid, I'm not doing anything wrong.
    So I tried harder at school, maybe if she saw I was smart, or succeeding in arts or sports, maybe she just hated me, maybe I reminded her of my father.
    Who is my father? She doesn't speak of him, all photos have been destroyed, no questions are answered.
    I hear her tell in her most depressive moments other people that her (family member) did things to her, Was my (family member) my father? Was that the reason he came across to visit so often, I hoped dearly that was not the case. My child mind tried it's best to connect the dots with it's limited information.
    I watched with hope the letterbox for a couple of years just waiting and waiting for the postman to deliver something for (sister) or I on our birthday or Christmas but nothing ,nothing ever came. No card, no letter, no present. All other children had both parents interacting with them even if divorced. What did I do wrong, was I that big of a mistake.
    I heard this almost daily already, 'I shouldn't of kept you, didn't have to keep you, could have let you go, I didnt want you, I could have given you away, others said I should find a home for you, I didn't need to keep you you know as there are places I could have sent you, you could have gone to his family' and so on. This gets to a kid making them feel not worthwhile, a burden, unloved. Tears would fall as I silently turned away. Over and over the verbal abuse would carry on lasting until I was 8 or 9.
    So I sat and wondered how she could be my mother, how could she constantly say these things to me, this was not love, did I destroy her life that much?
    I thought about not speaking anymore. Once when only 6 or perhaps 7 I sat for an entire day outside on a log fence just thinking and talking to God...would it matter if I never spoke again, should I shut speech down, was there any point talking with my mother who never answered my most important questions. At the end of this as night crept in I knew that to stop talking would largely mean to stop interacting with others... and what would be the point of that as then I would not be of much use on this planet to anyone...and I don't think God would be that impressed..
    So I walked myself back to the unit where not much had changed except for another day of deep thinking.
    Physical discipline even though I was a good kid was far easier than the words of not being wanted...give me the strap any day and yes i"ll take it for (sister) too.

    Still when only 6 or 7 years old much time must have already passed without cuddles or hugs from Mum for I remember Mum coming into (sister's) and my bedroom and giving me a hug and thinking what is she doing, why is she doing this, Mum never touches or hugs me and I didn't know what to do with it - like what was I meant to do in response. So I sat on that bed being awkwardly held unsure why this was now occurring.

    I have always loved cats and would spend hours, days and even weeks trying to rescue abandoned & wild kittens. Friends would sometimes join me in this pursuit and we would attempt to find homes for them. Three times I was allowed to keep a kitten but I don't know what happened to each....though Mum would arrange the drowning of cats including our neighbours so there's a good chance that this was also the fate of my pets. How could she do this to my favourite creatures...the ones who relied upon me... I liked to think it wasn't so, but it must have been.

    I was not introduced to anyone as Mum's child which made me feel sad and awkward, what was so very wrong with me, is my face that bad, is it the age thing, that she didn't like having a child so close in age? I would think maybe next time she won't ignore me like this but it still carries on today...it is like we are not related when a non-family member is around.

    And sessions with the minister when she thought I was being naughty in whatever way once I turned 13...basically I would just shyly sit there forced to listen whilst receiving my own personal sermon about being wayward from the minister.


    Hello Dad,
    Combine Part 2 with Part 1 story of my childhood and you will see that we did have fun times. Sometimes Mum would silly dance and sing along to music with us or we would read a fairytale together or on Sunday's have a picnic in a park etc and explore.
    It was the words that hurt, not the belt and as you know, back then it was more ok to use physical force as punishment.
    I have much love for Mum and wish she could have been happier and think that what (family member) must have done to her caused enormous longterm damage.
    I have certainly tried to be a better parent to my own kids and give them more help, love and guidance than we received.
    I think of God as the Creator of the universe, for to me this something did not come from nothing, it had to come from something and that something I call the Creator or God.
    Also might be handy to know that I think of myself as spiritual not religious.
    I appreciate the words you sent back in reply to Part 2.
    Thankyou & much love


    Hi Dad here's some more of (sister) & my story in a visual form xo

    Turn to other side of road and In one of the middle of these blocks of flats (a brick one, I think the second) we lived and played in the car park out the back and the small creek beyond. It is here that I waited out front for the postman.

    *link removed

    If you turn around and then click ahead about 24 clicks you will see the marae. Just before it is the property where we lived for a bit although that house has long since been demolished and another was built. There you will see the remain of a large tree where (sister) and I spent hours playing on it with others. Right at the back of the property with a river behind we had a long drop tiolet!
    Across the road is the train track and land we played upon.

    *link removed

    This creamy coloured house with brown roof was the first house that Mum & (Stepdad) bought. Out the back Mum had a big vege garden.

    *link removed

    And here is our home in (location). Back when we lived there the house was pink. Out the front of this house my first boyfriend spray painted the biggest heart and wrote F*** it, I love u, marry me for the neighbourhood to admire for many years :-)

    *link removed


    Hi Dad,

    You may have noticed that I am now going by the name (new name) which is a mixture of (1st name) & (2nd name).
    This has been something I have been considering for a couple of months now.
    My thinking is that when I first heard from (sister) that there was another (my name) my mind was shocked and I found myself letting go of the name somewhat but wanting to believe that at least it was spelt differently or (sister) had it wrong and it was (abbreviation of name) or such.
    The news affected me and made me think you had done a form of replacement.
    Then (sister) returned to NZ when I was about 19 and confirmed the name was indeed (my name) and mentioned that she even thought that it was spelt the same. So my name lost its significance and uniqueness and I dissociated with it even more.
    This was furthered again when I spoke with your other (my name) on the phone a few years later, where I learnt the spelling was unfortunately exactly the same.
    Often I found myself replacing (my name) with (abbreviation of name), (abbreviation), (abbreviation), (abbreviation) & even (abbreviation) when feeling silly.
    But I have always been attached to and liked my second given name of (name). So for the last 5 or 6 years I have combined the names and used (new name) for various forums, usernames etc.
    (New name) gives me a name that is my own. It's a name that I now prefer and has given me back my own individual identity in this area.
    So I would much appreciate you starting to call me this and hope you take no offense and accept my decision.
    Love from your daughter (new name) xo
    Last edited by Hays; 09-18-2017 at 11:51 AM.

  10. #10
    Olimpia's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Singu View Post
    I also didn't talk at school... but that was only after I had moved to another school, so that was probably just a defense mechanism to avoid embarrassment or something like that. It's not that I didn't want to talk, but words wouldn't come out of my mouth and my mind would go blank. Also had to do with the fact that I had moved to another country and didn't speak the language there, but then again my brothers talked, so eh.
    I see, sounds like selective mutism. @totalize told me that this is a quite common thing in the UK.

    Quote Originally Posted by Singu View Post
    On the contrary, I often cried in public, even though I didn't exactly know why I did... I was way too sensitive... but I hardly ever cried over physical pain... I was more likely to cry over emotional pain I guess.
    Crying in general is not necessarily a bad thing. I'd say it is a bit of a warning sign when a kid cries too often or too little, though; it often implies that there are underlying issues in the child's psychology. In my case, it was a matter of being dismissively attached. (Perhaps preoccupied children cry the most?) I thought weakness was a bad thing and that showing emotional weakness or vulnerability in particular was something that I should avoid. I don't know what was really going on when I was at the house of those friends of my grandparent's; I think they had some kids of their own, so maybe they struggled with attending to all the children, including myself. Perhaps I did not get enough attention and care during that time; so when I cried, I did not immediately get soothed. Apparently that carried out into my later years – the belief that when you cry or are emotionally hurt, no one will be there for you, so you have to "suck it up" and be strong. In the recent years I have been more conscious and aware of how being dismissively attached is not a sign of strength, but actually of weakness, and I have been consciously trying to become more secure (on-off), with mixed results.

    "The two avoidant types (dismissive-avoidant and fearful-avoidant) share a subconscious fear that caregivers are not reliable and intimacy is a dangerous thing. The dismissive-avoidant individuals (who we will call Dismissives) have completed a mental transformation that says: “I am good, I don’t need others, and they aren’t really important to me. I am fine as I am,” while the fearful-avoidant are still consciously craving an intimacy which scares them when it actually happens. Both types were trained not to rely on caregivers [...]."
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    @Shay, I cried because I had no shoes, until I met a man who had no feet.

    Your story is very touching, and I admire your strength and bravery.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Adam Strange View Post
    "At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it."

    You dirty little pig.
    When you start saying this kind of stuff I cant help but remember the picture of untucked messy Jack (top left) :
    "All nations will place their hope in him."
    (Mt 12:21)

  13. #13
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    Quote Originally Posted by Slugcat View Post

    You dirty little pig.
    When you start saying this kind of stuff I cant help but remember the picture of untucked messy Jack (top left) :
    Untucked, messy Jack shaves and deodorizes all the places where air doesn't circulate freely, right after his morning shower.

    It is only considerate, because you never know who you're going to meet that day.

  14. #14
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    I was born to a single mother, I've never met my father, I don't know anything about him. My mother was close to her parents so I was raised by my grandmother and grandfather as well. We lived with them until I turned 12. I was very close to my grandpa, mostly during my early childhood and he was basically the only authority I've ever respected.

    I wasn't a very good student, but I had favourite subjects like literature, history, geography... that I was really good at. I had a lot of issues with fitting in as a kid. I was used to get all the attention at home and I felt weird that other people did not care about me as much. I was trying to get all the attention from my teachers at classes, I was extremelly open, dramatic, expressive, I couldn't really filter myself as a child and others thought I was just really weird. I wanted to get all the attention from everyone basically, I was hyperactive, loud, I was fighting with boys, interupting classes...

    The first time I felt like I'm doing something well that others might really appriciate was during a drama class. I loved theatre, public speaking, poetry reading. I think I was only 7 when teachers started to sign me into poetry reading competitions and I started to act in an ammateur theatre. I was also very good at writing. As soon as I learnt how to hold a pen I begun to write my own stories. I was successful at school as well and teachers really liked my essays and my stories so I quickly begun to love writing as well.
    But the more expressive about everything I was the more my peers let me know that it was just weird. I was too much... too loud, too active, too temperamental for everyone to handle me. I got rejected from everywhere basically because of how extreme I used to be.

    I got depression when I was 13, I didn't really belong anywhere and nobody accepted me. I started to be more and more obsessed with my own self, my own work, how different from others I'm, how I don't fit etc. and I slowly rejected the outside world. I stopped expressing my emotions because I got tired of being called theatrical. I was just living for my own self, my own emotion, my own dreams I promissed myself not to care about others anymore.
    I was a very difficult teenager. I got a lot of emotional issues, depression, and I did a lot of shit to my own self and others around me. I think a lot of the drama I created on a purpuse. I just wanted something exciting in my life to shake things up. Now when I look back at it, I know I was depressed but a lot of shit I did to myself was just attention whoring.

    I started to listen to music more when I was 14, I also started to sing and play an instrument and that begun to be the meaning of my life. Thanks to music I got to know people who I felt close to, who respected me and saw the world the way I did.
    Well in my late teenage years I started to hang out with bunch of punk/rockers, metalheads and my life was one big neverending party. I had tons of friends, I knew local bands, I didn't care about other things than getting drunk and going to all the good concerts.

    I somehow got into university, studied journalism, now I'm finishing creative writing and I'm waiting for what happens next. Otherwise my life is not different to what it was in my late teens.


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    @Olimpia @Singu @Shay @Owl @reverie Thank you for sharing your stories. I'll get around to reading them all when I'm in a better mood.

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    My parents met in alcohol recovery (mom never stopped drinking, dad never relapsed). Popped out 4 unplanned kids right out of highschool, the 4th one being from another man in recovery. They divorced when I was a baby but decided to live together anyway. We were raised in a very cult like environment. A typical doomsday christian homeschool deal. We were taught that WW3, a second civil war, and the second coming of christ would happen any day (it never did). 2 years before Y2K we moved out of the trailer park and into an antique farm house in the middle of no where. It never got fixed up and we had no money so we grew up in squalor. We were isolated from the rest of the world. We were miserable. My only comforts were song writing on my sisters casio keyboard, mine and my brothers make belief world, and the cats and dogs. Our education consisted of conspiracy theories. My parents didn't realize that I have a learning disability and so homeschooling was a nightmare for me. There was a lot of fighting, abuse, neglect, and drinking behind closed doors that extended family didn't know about. So I would disassociate from reality and occupy myself in my room reading books and writing songs and dreaming of a better life. When I became a teenager I decided I could become a stripper one day and have independence. I found out I have mental illness when I was committed to the psych ward. I had to fight like hell to convince my parents to give me my paper identity. An uncle of mine ended up buying my driver's ed class because I was 23 and still couldn't drive a car. So I bought a used van with money I saved up and drove to Texas (from ohio) and started dancing. I got into drugs and heavy drinking and got into a car accident and had to move back home 2 years later. My mom committed suicide in front of me not long after. One year after that I moved out west again to start my life over for the 100th time, a lot has happened since, I've been robbed, lived in hotels, worked odd jobs. I'm in a better place now, safer neighborhood, steady job. It's still hard because of the mental illness and flashbacks, and no highschool diploma. Moral of the story: Don't stick your dick in crazy or or marry right out of highschool and pop out kids with no money. And never give up on your life because of a rough start in life.
    LSI-Se 836 Sp/Sx

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    Quote Originally Posted by Pole View Post
    My parents met in alcohol recovery (mom never stopped drinking, dad never relapsed). Popped out 4 unplanned kids right out of highschool, the 4th one being from another man in recovery. They divorced when I was a baby but decided to live together anyway. We were raised in a very cult like environment. A typical doomsday christian homeschool deal. We were taught that WW3, a second civil war, and the second coming of christ would happen any day (it never did). 2 years before Y2K we moved out of the trailer park and into an antique farm house in the middle of no where. It never got fixed up and we had no money so we grew up in squalor. We were isolated from the rest of the world. We were miserable. My only comforts were song writing on my sisters casio keyboard, mine and my brothers make belief world, and the cats and dogs. Our education consisted of conspiracy theories. My parents didn't realize that I have a learning disability and so homeschooling was a nightmare for me. There was a lot of fighting, abuse, neglect, and drinking behind closed doors that extended family didn't know about. So I would disassociate from reality and occupy myself in my room reading books and writing songs and dreaming of a better life. When I became a teenager I decided I could become a stripper one day and have independence. I found out I have mental illness when I was committed to the psych ward. I had to fight like hell to convince my parents to give me my paper identity. An uncle of mine ended up buying my driver's ed class because I was 23 and still couldn't drive a car. So I bought a used van with money I saved up and drove to Texas (from ohio) and started dancing. I got into drugs and heavy drinking and got into a car accident and had to move back home 2 years later. My mom committed suicide in front of me not long after. One year after that I moved out west again to start my life over for the 100th time, a lot has happened since, I've been robbed, lived in hotels, worked odd jobs. I'm in a better place now, safer neighborhood, steady job. It's still hard because of the mental illness and flashbacks, and no highschool diploma. Moral of the story: Don't stick your dick in crazy or or marry right out of highschool and pop out kids with no money. And never give up on your life because of a rough start in life.
    You're so strong! Thanks for sharing, I wish you the best.
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  18. #18
    No Fate Pole's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Olimpia View Post
    You're so strong! Thanks for sharing, I wish you the best.
    Thank you! <3
    LSI-Se 836 Sp/Sx

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    Normally I would never revive such an old thread but somehow this appeared before me tonight. Maybe I needed to release some emotions. Maybe I needed to be reminded of those that have actually given me love in this lifetime. Maybe I needed reminding that despite life’s ugly moments there is always more shit to deal with...some of it not too bad though :-)
    Husband says, maybe it was good for him to hear it again.

    Another year or two has now passed from when I returned to my place of birth and attempted contact again with my birth father and another year or so of no reply.

    ...Influenced forever, as healed as can be, used & abused but now becoming free...
    Last edited by Hays; 09-29-2020 at 12:18 AM.

  20. #20
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    i made my present. environment had nothing to do with it...i impose my will over the environment (its a reflection of my will) i don't owe shit to anybody. i put my own rise to power together myself. i built it myself and its only going to get bigger and bigger...i am so busy now lucky if I have time to pay a bill...gotta be fast on the feet which I excel at (make snap decisions - developing and putting a course of action into motion with lightning speed and still make wise business calculations) <--knowledge can be learned...the shit that cannot be taught to somebody is the instincts, the speed, the timing, keeping the pressure on...either you got it or you don't, born with it or not. environment/childhood don't mean shit. i piss on my childhood. thats why these harvard types dont mean shit....in the trenches cut throat rough and tumble where i live and breathe 24/7 you're only making it big if you live on the edge and if you live on the edge like me there's no time to 'do homework' to 'study hard' before going into it...perfectionism is death, those homework/study the night before/perfectionist types fill cubicles...that's what they're good for. they don't start retail chains...they fill cubicles...academic overachievers are good for filling cubicles. they make good monkeys...monkeys in cubicles. that's all they're good for.
    Last edited by Kill4Me; 10-04-2020 at 01:42 PM.

  21. #21
    I don't play, I slay. Lolita's Avatar
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    I was born. People are boring and much of life is boring. I need a lot of thrills and excitement so I live my life and enjoy much as I can.


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    Great thread.

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    I had a weird and mostly quiet childhood interspersed with times of chaos. We were poor/working class til I was 10 and then middle/upper middle class from then on. As a kid, I played videogames, was a perfect student, and played dad for my brother. We had inconsistent father figures til I was 9. As a teenager, my grades dropped, I got anxious, started enjoying more philosophic types of conversations, had a couple of gfs and generally started to just not care enough to consistently do well.
    19ish to 23 I was in college and transformed from a flunking freshman to a stoned sophomore to a getting-by senior. I changed my major about 5 times and had no clue what the hell to do with myself. After graduation I joined this site and it's been downhill ever since. I've done well in my career, got a bunch of raises, made new products, traveled a bunch but I'm still crippled socially because my primary technique for dealing with anxiety is avoidance and I find most social situations extremely boring because I can't connect with anybody due to having answered most of the big questions of life for myself between 19 and 23 and boring things like racism and religion are still worthy topics for most people even after several millennia of dealing with it. And I dont like doing random pointless social shit

  24. #24
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    I had a mostly decent early childhood. I was born in Virginia on the panhandle east of the Chesapeake bay where I lived until I was around 5 when we moved to my dad's family in West Virginia. I just have a few hazy memories there of preschool and being at the beach.

    In my elementary schools years I did a lot fun things with my parents like fishing, going sled riding when it was snowy, planting a garden, exploring the woods, going to zoos, traveling to places like such as the Dominican Republic and Niagara Falls, etc. I'd often walk down over to my Grandma's whom was always happy to see me and would always be up for playing games such as monopoly or yahtzee with me. With my brother I often sit next to him and watch him play video games.

    In 2004 my area got hit with devastating floods which I still remember. I remember seeing guardrails twisted around trees and tons of collapsed bridges in the aftermatch. Luckily my house was up on a hill and wasn't affected by any of that. I also remember seeing girl that lived a few blocks down the road and went to school with me having her house burn down.

    I almost drowned once at someone else's swimming pool. I didn't know how to swim yet and I foolishly decided to step towards deep end, luckily there was a baby sitter there who saved me. I remember feeling my whole body being limp after I was pulled up, like how your arm feels when it's blood flow gets restricted.

    In school I did well and consistently got honors/high honors even though I never studied and didn't do a lot of homework. Socially however I was a pretty lonely kid with not very many friends. There was only one friend I had whom I visited anywhere outside of school. I've never once had girlfriend either (and still don't). The crushes I've had on girls caused a lot of pain and took years to get over each.

    My my life took a pretty depressing turn once my mom and dad starting having serious issues. At one point they were arguing daily. Eventually they divorced and my mom took custody of me and moved. I didn't get along very well with my new step-dad and I felt like a hostage in my own home. All I could do was just lock myself in my room and play video games. I had no friends at all at my new school either which my the whole situation even worse.

    Then when I was 16, my biological dad whom I still visited often passed away. Then I few months later my grandma passed away too. Basically my whole dad's side of the family was gone at that point and I just had my brother and mother.

    Once I graduated high school I moved out my parents and with my brother whom I split expenses with. I didn't even bother with college since there is no lucrative jobs in my area and it would just be a bunch of debt I couldn't afford. I just got a normal job I have just been doing that job up to today. I finally making enough money now to pay for things other then basic necessity which is nice. My joy these days is mostly derived from what cool things there is to buy with days passing by and blending into one another without much happening.

  25. #25
    Hot Scalding Gayser's Avatar
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    Oh I have already said too much! But just to recap:

    Like I already said my school/working life was horrible/always has been horrible due to being severely bullied and I'm victimy/people shy and often forget how to think logically when I'm around others lol.

    However, in my home life I was coddled/overprotected and treated well and had an idealistic middle-class upbringing with privileges and starry-eyed magical Christmas mornings of sentimental mush. My parents were clear socionic duals (ESE/LII) and treated me well. This just kind of made the bullying at school even worse because a lot of kids hated me and were jealous because of it I think, because their own parents didn't get along well. I remember that potential school shooter vid dude said both his home life and school life was horrible. I could only imagine his pain and felt for him as my school life was horrible, but my home life was very good (and it probably made me a bit fucked up and bipolar)

    At 11-13 I was sent to group homes/residential treatment facilities/baby jail for not going to school and refusing to go to school when it was the law lol due to being bullied and also quite frankly, I just wanted to do my own thing and despise being controlled. (I can't really blame anybody else too much as I was also curious and wanted to see what those places were like as well) My parents tried everything they could to keep me out but I was determined to be on the other side of the law because I am Beta after all. I had to meet Nurse Ratcheds & Joan Fergusons in person, you know. Not just read about them from my timely decorated home.

    I have clashed with asshole authority figures my entire life, as I view most of them as 'bullies' as well- (like somebody on here once said, bandd is looking for the exceptional bullies! LOL) and I always seemed to know what to say to piss them off without even trying. (My mom was also like this and she said I got this from her, whereas my dad was more passive and Good Guy Greg-ish) I even told off a cop once that was being uppity. However, my relationship with authority has always been more complicated because ppl in power also often trust me with being an authority head of my own as I see through veils well with my Ni and I can easily fake being an homely EII to make a real world LSE like me- as most people are pathetically easy to manipulate. I can provoke people rather easily but sometimes I end up provoking the wrong person. Oops.

    My life was kinda Sansa Stark-ish in the sense that I had to learn to manipulate other people to avoid situations that were very grimdadrk and potentially deadly for myself as I was dealing with some pretty shitty Deep State assholes - and I hated doing this because I was very naive/romantic as a kid and just wanted people to get along - and also I wish we lived in a world where you could be genuine/honest but sadly you just can't. =/ However, I try to be somewhat honest online and I still value honesty to a point- even though I know honesty can be self-defeating as there will always be a person gunning for power that twists your words against you. However, in a weird way I feel like it's my mission to expose these people. Sometimes I will kind of overly exaggerate and act like prey and a 'victim' but more as a tactic to show somebody how shitty they really are. As I always say, I will stop playing victim when you stop being an offender.

    But of course, sometimes the shitty one is moi. I have regretted being mean and going a little dark at times, because I have sought out revenge too much sometimes even though I know it's digging two graves. I guess it's like that grimdark Placebo song 'like the naked leads the blind I know I'm selfish I'm unkind. No circumstances can excuse blah blah blah' I may have never struck the first blow that often in life or at all perhaps, but it doesn't 'make it okay.' Now I will try to turn the other cheek (but you will still probably get whacked in the face as I'm secretly wearing a campy Acme boulder strap-on thingie whilst I turn around.) It's not all angsty. I can be VERY sweet and nice and genuinely kind as well though. <3 And once I get even, I will back off. No need to keep digging in. I don't really value sadism that much.

    I loved love as a kid and was very romantic and kind of was obsessed with cartoons where the squirrels chased each other as they were obsessed with one person, and I have been that way with a few others in my life. However despite being this way, I can also be firmly grounded in reality and I still have a good head on my shoulders despite some of my fantasies can get kinda 'out there' and IEI silly romantic-like. I usually make the 'right decisions' even if it takes me a bit longer to get there. I have a good imagination and I like creative writing and transferring my emo pain I experienced back onto the world lol. As many of you already know, I'm obsessed with finding somebody's true superhero RPG class if 'superpowers were real.' Kind of a mix of fantasy and realism that gives me a rush. It also makes nerdy male LIIs light up at me with the most adorable beneficiary eyes.
    Last edited by Hot Scalding Gayser; 10-07-2020 at 02:49 AM.

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    Good luck on your journey, @Stance. You can do it.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Stance View Post
    Let me try this again....
    Did you use any philosophy as a "vehicle" during times of strife?

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    I was born naked. I bathe naked, sleep naked and I hope to die naked.


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    Haikus Dr PissBender's Avatar
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    My mom whom I think was some Alpha SF died of cancer when I was 3, and before that, my dad had to leave with her to USA to get her some proper, expensive treatment, and I was left alone for months with my aunt and my shit Beta ST uncle. Anyway, after my mom died, he got with some shitty Se lead bitch who wanted to gold-dig, then... He got with another Se leading woman, whose son sexually abused me, then I grew up and beat the crap out of him, even pushed my fingers into his eyes and all, hmmmmm, after that it was pretty neat, actually, I basically raised myself, learned music on my own, I was the weird guy at school, yet in high school people always invited me out and all, even if most times I didn't go coz I hated my rich classmates, still, my popularity was there because I was pretty edgy, goofy, and all around funny, even if I hated everyone, I got along with them. That school was actually for really "smart" people, you had to pass a lot of tests and I scored high as fuck, still, I didn't do any homework, so it was such a contradiction for the authorities there. I just didn't care. The only people I liked in high school were my SEE and ESE friends, I keep talking to those guys. Though, mostly I'd only go out with friends outside of school and my then GF, I had so many friends, yet I was never really close to any. Anyway, before getting to THAT school, I was in another one, where authorities were really worried about me, because of my drawings and shit, I was legit drawing most of my classmates, dead and tortured in different ways, and they called my dad and made a big deal about it, which is dumb, I was just a kid.

    Once, later on... my EII bestie got away from me for like two years because I had become "too aggressive" for him, but then we became friends again. I ditched college a lot of times because it just wasn't for me, I mostly studied Movie-making stuff and Journalism, I was a natural at journalism, to be honest... and acting, i'm a natural at that too, and i've done it a few times... I at times miss those golden years, when I was 17/18, I had an SLI bestie who took me under their wing for a while, then I think I scared them away or something, I don't remember. Then I moved to another city to study music stuff, but then came back home and i'm just studying it online, that city was too boring... yet calming... but I just am more about the doing than the studying, so I'm just making music like crazy on my own instead of studying so much, I learn on my own pretty easily. I also like being the leader of my projects and not depend on others, so, i'm a solo artist, though not gonna lie, I miss my live guitarist, whose type I think is ESE, he was cool, when we'd play live we'd just annoy each other and act like we were fucking or shit on-stage. It was very, very gay and dynamic.

  30. #30
    Maybe I'm a Lion
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    I was born on a Monday.

  31. #31
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    It was a warm day in the spring of Nazi Germany. The war had just started and everyone was so excited to go out and expand Germany to the whole world. ****** was on tv and my dad and mom were getting frisky. My dad's penis was engorged with blood and my mum's vag got wet and moist. Before anyone knew what was happening they were going at it like rabbits in all sorts of weird positions. My dad almost shot me into the wrong...gateway, but luck prevailed and the horrible abomination of my dad's spunk and my mom's seed coalesced to make the horrible genetic abomination that would later give birth to me.

    Nine months later, the Nazi's decided to push deep into the Soviet's territory and blitzkrieg their asses into oblivion. As Operation Barbarossa began, I was also destined for my invasion. I was ready to break out into the world and tame it like a cowboy rides a wild bull. But first I had to invade through the gateway of my mum. After struggling long and hard I finally managed to break some kind of sac and then I felt all the fluid surrounding me go away. At long last, I could see it. There was a little light through a small hole and I just went for it. I wanted out! It's time! I thought. I reached and I pulled and then suddenly I shot out and attacked the world with my never-ending cries.

    *part 2 coming later*
    Quote Originally Posted by Aramas View Post
    Just rename this place Beta Central lmao
    Quote Originally Posted by MidnightWilderness View Post
    The only problem socionics has given me is a propensity to analyze every relationship from the lens of socionics and I also see that it is worse in my boyfriend. Nothing makes any sense that way and it does not really solve any problems.





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