Small town northern Minnesota have been through an excruciating painful existence. Poverty stricken, criminal record, alcohol abuse, smell like a shit bag because I am not taking care of myself. I live, anxiety-ridden, with little or no social contact, everyday. Read books, but living on SSDI, which is not much and it is taken away everytime I go to jail for 30 days or more, on probation, no children, no job, no hope. Life is truely blightful, because I did it to myself, and hurt someone I was married to but was not man enough to go be the husband she needed. This is a legimate posting, I hurt so fucking bad inside. | |
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