Posted by fxckfeelings on April 1, 2013
Since we now live in a mostly-online world where everything is a loss/”fail” or victory/”for the win,” it’s normal to regard death as the ultimate fail since we’d give almost anything to prevent it from happening to ourselves and those we love (although if it happens to our worst enemies, it’s a win situation, even if most of us wouldn’t even admit that in Youtube comments). In reality, we disrespect our humanity by considering ourselves defeatable by something we don’t control, and what we do with ourselves and our family and friends when someone is dying or otherwise afflicted is what makes us great/gives us p0wnage of mortality, at least for a little while.
–Dr. Lastname
After 15 years of homelessness, prison, jails, rehabs, psych meds, medication management, horrific poly substance abuse, and occasional hopeful stints of sobriety, our son overdosed two months ago. He was 30 years old.
All the years of fear, guilt and depravity notwithstanding, his father and I miss him terribly. I won’t go into the efforts (financial, emotional, time) to get/keep him sober that consumed our entire family for the last decade. Lets just say our son’s use of his drug of choice, heroin, has been the 24/7 of our lives. I could write a book about police cars in the driveway, family sessions I’ve sat through with green rehab “counselors” who appeared to be clinging tenuously to not using themselves, and the finer points of being frisked by zealous prison guards.
Some days, like today, all I can remember is what a horrible slog it’s been. Other days I remember my son’s big, kind heart when he was himself, his ability to read a room, and the way he only talked when he had something to say.
I’ve examined our family life over and over, and I had pretty much come to grips with the past, and the present. The future was plainly jails, institutions, or death. I knew all this, and had many sleepless nights to steel myself for the inevitable.
Of course when the inevitable arrives, it is a total sledgehammer to the heart and mind. The worst part is this: his father and I had kicked him out of our home (again) where he was living (again) because he was shooting Xanax. He actually got the Rx for Xanax from the same doctor that prescribed his Suboxone (why heroin addicts should not be prescribed Benzodiazopines is another post). Later that night he died of an overdose from a lethal mix of Xanax and heroin.
So, he is dead, after we pushed him out in an argument. No goodbyes, no “I love you,” just unkind and hurtful words.
In a way I feel this was our son’s final selfish act, leaving me a lifetime of guilt and replaying that night he left over and over in my mind. I feel I’ll go crazy if it doesn’t stop. I don’t want to live this way for the rest of my natural life.
[Please note: We usually edit submissions for length and clarity, but we felt this was so well-written that it should be left almost entirely intact. If the author ever follows through on her threat to write a book, we would read it.]
The usual way we judge ourselves as parents is by the way we help our kids survive and grow, even if we can’t make them happy. That standard is usually fair, unless your child suffers from a disease that nobody and nothing control, from doctors and medication, to the child or the parents who feel responsibility for his/her survival.
The toughest thing in the world then is to judge yourself properly when you still can’t stop your son from dying, unhappily, in the midst of drug abuse and conflict. It’s a mix of every kind of hell, because you feel you’ve failed, that he failed, and that the universe has failed everyone involved.
Unfortunately, we live in a world where nice kids get addicted to horrible drugs, nice parents can’t save them, and part of the illness of addiction is that the kids fuck up again and again, and you can’t keep them at home when they do. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on March 28, 2013
Addiction is easier to understand if you picture it as a mental squatter, the way advertising for nasal decongestants depicts mucus as a working class family that happens to be gooey, green, and getting by in your sinuses. Even when people are strongly motivated to stop compulsive or addictive behavior, their addiction is often one step ahead of them, distorting their thinking to undermine their efforts and stay put. In some cases, they are so obsessed with the self-perceived ugliness of their bad habit that they can’t consider more important reasons for stopping, while in other cases, they are so obsessed with finding their addiction’s ultimate cause that they wind up blaming people who care the most and could offer the most help in their recovery/to send the addiction packing. If you’re ready to quit, avoid stoking up feelings of self-disgust or blame; instead, prepare to tolerate pain without blame while looking for positive reasons to manage lingering inner demons and keep them from setting up house.
–Dr. Lastname
I think I meet the clinical definition of having an eating disorder (at least, according to the all-knowing and all-powerful Wikipedia). For the past four years I have been binge eating and semi-purging through excessive laxative use. Before that, for about two years, I was probably somewhat anorexic, although I say this in retrospect as I don’t think I either realized or would have admitted it at the time. (5’2” and less than 90 lbs. is pretty thin, though). My goal is to stop binge eating, and I don’t know how. My eating and obsession with food have basically taken over my life, and though I fight it and things have gotten better than they were a year or two ago, I’m constantly afraid of when I will binge next. I don’t trust myself at all. It affects my professional life, and I need to stop letting that happen. I miss the self-control and feelings of power and self-worth that my thinness used to give me. I realize that going back to that is not exactly a healthy goal, though. I’d frankly be pretty pleased if I could just stop binging and get on with my life.
It’s hard to underestimate how all-consuming an eating disorder can be; as you obsess about the ways to keep food out of your body, it becomes the main occupant of your mind. Every moment spent avoiding the act of eating requires twice as many moments of mental torment on the subject.
Then there are endless concerns about your appearance, feelings of worthlessness, compulsive behaviors, and the intense ties between them. Eating disorders foster a kind of self-obsession, a dependence on your own thoughts and secret behaviors that devalues other goals and relationships.
It’s not surprising then that managing an eating disorder requires, not more self-control, but an acceptance that you’ve lost control and a willingness to admit other people, like family and therapists, into your private, obsessive relationship with food. It’s not unlike the so-called First Step of managing an addiction—admitting your helplessness and recognizing the importance of values other than your needs and shame. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on March 25, 2013
Some families are horrible to live with because, although everyone means well, their individual suffering and sensitivity make them act badly, while, with other families, a rejection-sensitive demon-spawn who does not mean well is torturing the clan from within and acting like a terrible beast. So, before letting your own family-focused feelings drive you into conflict or away from the fold, ask yourself how well your family members can behave and under what circumstances. Sometimes better behavior management can help their good intentions overcome their bad moods; other times, the only way to help is to build a solid wall, slip out the door, and solder it shut, like you mean it.
–Dr. Lastname
I feel like the depression and anxiety issues of my husband and three sons is literally sucking the life out of me. There are days here and there when one of them will be in a good mood, but for the most part it’s gloom and doom, and their inability to make a decision about ANYTHING has become equally exhausting. I know they can’t “snap out of it”, just “get over it” etc., and they’re all receiving professional care…but honestly, after a couple of years of this, I’m wearing down. I have lupus, and while I’m generally a positive, happy sort of person, I’m at the point where I really do need their assistance sometimes. I’m starting to feel like my hair could be on fire and no one would even notice, much less get up to help. Sometimes I can get one of them to take the dog out, or bring the laundry downstairs, but it practically takes an act of congress to make it happen…and we all know how that process goes. I want to be supportive, and feel I’ve done my best to be patient and tolerant…but how do I protect my own health and sanity while this situation drags on?
If your family has turned into a misery association that is dragging you down, imagine if it was possible to quit your current family and find a new one. After all, If a workplace is often compared to a family, then it should not be hard to picture leaving your position at Misery and Frustration Inc. for a position elsewhere.
This fantasy also forces you to think about your own goals in life, aside from your response to their depressed feelings and unhelpful, apathetic behavior. As a parent, it’s easy to put those things on the back-burner while you try to make them happy, but as a professional, you’re supposed to think about what needs to get done before quitting time. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on January 3, 2013
Any number of sources, from teachers to parents to inspirational posters featuring wolves, teach us that we should be able to achieve our goals by working harder and feel great when those goals are achieved. Unfortunately, mental illness often trumps these expectations by making it impossible to do certain kinds of work or enjoy the non-working hours that should bring happiness. So, if you’ve got good evidence that mental illness has altered your capacities, despite good treatment, it’s time to change your teachers/parents/wolves’ assumptions about high performance and happiness and identify the other things that matter more.
–Dr. Lastname
My daughter suffers from bipolar disorder, and while I admire her determination to finish college and want to support her confidence, I know that she hasn’t been able to read more than a chapter or two since her illness started 10 years ago. She does fine on courses that don’t require much reading, as long she takes one at a time. Otherwise, she melts down– she can’t do the work, withdraws, stops attending classes, and looks more symptomatic for a month or so until she recovers. My goal is to build her confidence and help her overcome the stigma of having mental illness.
People often think that the measure of recovery after a disabling illness is how much normal function you get back, but when you’re dealing with an incurable illness, “normal” and “recovery” are defined differently.
Pushing yourself harder to meet the old standard under your new set of circumstances is an effective way of meeting your goals, but only if those goals involve making yourself feel like a loser for not being able to accomplish something that’s practically impossible.
True recovery means doing your best to live up to your values, regardless of how well your equipment is working; performance is the means, not the end. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on November 8, 2012
Although stopping long-term intensive psychotherapy can leave you in a state of mourning and fear, particularly if it occurs during tough times or against your wishes, it’s unrealistic to expect that returning to therapy will make everything right again. Instead, give yourself time to adjust to change and reassess your ability to stay functional and positive. Then, if you think it’s necessary, find a therapist who’s a good, supportive coach and use him or her for a different kind of therapy that keeps your head straight without stirring up your deeper feelings. If you’re certain that you have to be “in therapy” to get helpful support and are helpless without it, then the therapy you’re in is helping you a lot less than you think.
–Dr. Lastname
In my early 20s I spent 4 years in therapy (which I think in and of itself says a whole lot about the not good place I was in my head). Therapy ended, not because I was ready, but because I moved. I am now 46, and in the years since I continued to work through a lot of things on my own, with my therapist’s voice in my head, if no longer in actual therapy sessions. In January my grandmother took a turn for the worse, with both health and cognition, and we had to place her in full nursing care. She has always been one of the most influential and positive forces in my life, so I had a hard time dealing with this. It sent me spiraling down into my 4th lifetime episode of depression. I’ve started back on Prozac, which I now realize I need to stay on for the rest of my life to try to prevent future recurrences, and I’ve spent the last 10 months in therapy with my former therapist via phone sessions as we now live 1,000 miles apart. I have finished working through a lot of stuff in that time, meaning I’ve changed my attitudes and perceptions and behaviors, which has changed my life, inner and outer. I wish I’d figured it out 25 years ago, during that first round of therapy, but better late than never. It’s been a hard year. My grandmother died 7 weeks ago. The grief hit me more than I ever imagined. I thought I’d prepared in those months when she was slowly dying, but I was wrong. What is the saying—Where there is no struggle, there is no strength? Good growth has come of the pain—I have returned to college, and I am training for my first full marathon in January. I am at a truly good place in my head and was ready to end therapy, so two weeks ago, with my therapist’s blessing, I had my last session. I knew, though, that ending therapy because I am truly ready is a celebration, but that it would also be a loss. It is currently hitting me harder than I imagined. How do I get through this and find a place of healthy acceptance of this transition?
While it’s unfortunate that stopping intensive psychotherapy after many years is hitting you hard, it’s not surprising. As you well know, loss is painful, be it the death of a loved one or the end of a source of support.
That said, your pain doesn’t mean your psychotherapy has been less complete than you thought or that you stopped it too soon, just that you can be a solid, resilient person and also be very sensitive to loss, both because of temperament and circumstances. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on September 24, 2012
Coping with the mental illness of a family member can be agonizing, and when you can’t stop destructive behavior, it feels like defeat. Trying to defeat the symptoms of mental illness, however, is like trying to win a war on weight-gain or terror—difficult, endless, and resulting in gains that are easily lost. If you learn to accept setbacks as part of the process, rather than attack them as tests of your love and will, you’ll do more to sustain morale, including yours and your family’s. Take pride in your willingness to endure a difficult, painful, and sometimes frightening relationship; you won’t win or lose a war, but you’ll gain peace.
–Dr. Lastname
I’ve got an adult daughter whom I know is mentally ill—she thinks people are plotting against her, including her very nice husband—and, for the last few years, without my own husband’s help, I’ve desperately tried to persuade her to get treatment before her marriage fell apart and she got arrested for doing something violent and stupid. The harder I tried, however, the more she suspected I was part of the conspiracy. There was a ray of hope 6 months ago when she had a screaming fit one night and got locked up in a mental hospital, but the medication made no difference, and she came out more certain than ever that her husband was her worst enemy, so she left him. My husband says I’m part of the problem because I never take my daughter’s side, but my goal is to restore her to sanity, and I know my husband is in fantasyland if he thinks she’s sane and has a “side” based in reality. I’m getting nowhere, though, and my own marriage is under pressure. What do I do now?
Unfortunately, while there is no surefire cure for paranoia, pushing a paranoid person to get help is a reliable way to make it worse. After all, if somebody thinks the world is against them, disagreeing with that person only confirms their delusions. Call it the paranoia-dox.
If your daughter’s paranoia can’t be helped—and it seems you’ve tried very hard to help her—then I’m sorry, but your husband has the right idea, even if it’s for the wrong reason. By not challenging her feelings of being victimized, your husband avoids the paranoia-dox, which makes it an approach worth trying. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on August 30, 2012
If you listen to (other) experts, psychiatric treatment should always begin with objective evidence, which then determines a diagnosis, which directs us to proven, effective treatments. This expert, on the other hand, thinks that “evidence-based psychiatry” would be very nice if we happened to know lots more than we do, but it is one of life’s great ironies that the organ we know the least about is the home of knowledge itself, the brain. Until we can fully wrap our heads around our minds and how they work, scientific thinking in psychiatry is often wishful thinking. It can actually get in the way of making good, practical decisions and accepting the necessity of living with the unknown, be it a mystery illness or the grey mush in our skulls.
–Dr. Lastname
I’ve been very confused lately because of what’s going on inside me. My father did some bad things to me while I was growing up—things that I just began remembering a year or so ago (sorry, I can’t label it). Since then, other memories surfaced as well, but not many at all. Most of my memories of my childhood are snapshots that are just little moments in time, separated by years in between that I just don’t remember. Anyway, the thing that distresses me is that sometimes, but not all the time, I’ll feel like I have another part of me who is talking in my head. This came to my awareness mostly after the memories started coming up, although I feel like maybe it happened occasionally before. For instance, recently someone asked me a question, and a child’s voice answered in my head. I have other instances of similar things like that happening. One time it seemed like there were two parts conversing with each other and I was just observing the conversation, per se. That being said, I am educated enough about what happened to me and the consequences of it to know that I think I’m describing DID, but from what I’ve read, I don’t think I have it. I don’t switch to other personalities, and I don’t really lose time or anything like that…but I do know I’m not qualified to make that kind of assessment (and I know you can’t just by reading this letter). But my question does relate to that: is it possible to have the kinds of experiences I’ve described and not have DID? Since I’m pretty sure I don’t have it, I feel like I’m just some crazy, messed up person for no reason. It terrifies me to share this with anyone, but I don’t know what to do anymore, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep going.
Diagnosis in psychiatry is never precise and, when given too much attention, can do more harm than good. Until the day a mental illness diagnosis can be determined by peeing on a stick, all we can currently do is lump symptoms together and try to observe what happens to people who fall within an arbitrary category.
In the short run, knowing you’re not alone might be comforting, but it would tell you very little about what to expect from future symptoms or treatments. Worse, it would get you thinking of yourself as a diagnosis instead of as a person who’s trying to live life in spite of some disturbing, hard-to-understand symptoms.
As such a person, ask yourself what you most want to accomplish in this life, despite whatever’s going on in your head. For most people with traumatic childhoods, it’s always meaningful to be decent to others, whether they’re your kids, relatives, or friends. You know how easily people slip into abusiveness when they’re angry and how much it hurts, so you never take a good, supportive relationship for granted.
Most symptoms that impair the way you function won’t prevent you from being the person you want to be or doing what you really want to do, they’ll just slow you down and force you to work harder to think up alternative methods. A good coach helps you to accept your impairment without getting discouraged or demoralized.
So instead of looking for the ultimate shrink diagnostician, find a therapist who can act as a good coach, who isn’t too upset by symptoms, and is eager to see what you’re capable of, even when you’re distracted by traumatic memories, internal conversations or the sensations of observing yourself.
Consult a psychiatrist at least once or twice to get an overview of possible treatments, including medication. Of course, non-medical treatments almost always pose a lower risk, but many medications are relatively safe and require no more than a few weeks to try out. If your symptoms are sufficiently painful and/or disabling, and non-medical treatment is insufficient, then you owe it to yourself to check out every possibility.
Whatever symptoms you have, you want to do your best to manage them without letting them define your life. Keep up your diagnostic questions until you’re confident you’ve heard what the experts have to say, regardless of how unsatisfying that might be, and then forget about what caused your problems or how they might be categorized.
Your next step is to manage your burden and respect yourself for carrying it, even if the nature of that burden remains a mystery.
STATEMENT:
“My psychological symptoms spook me and leave me feeling distracted and distanced from myself, but they can’t take the meaning out of a good day’s work or a solid friendship. I may never figure out why I feel the way I do, or stop myself from feeling that way, but I can certainly lead my life according to my values regardless of the tricks my head likes to play on me.”
No one was more surprised than I when I suddenly got depressed about a year ago, because it’s not something that ever happened to me before. I lost energy, felt like crying, and got anxiety attacks. There was lots of pressure at work, but my job was safe, and I’ve never been prone to buckling under pressure. Now I could barely get to work and I didn’t give a damn about the projects that I was responsible for. My wife finally forced me to see a psychiatrist, I started to feel better on an antidepressant, and then my internist really surprised me by telling me my testosterone was low and I should try a trial of replacement therapy, which I did. Within 2 weeks I was back to normal and a few weeks later I stopped the antidepressant. So now I wonder whether I was really depressed or not or whether I should have tried antidepressant in the first place. My goal is to figure out my diagnosis so I’ll know what to expect.
Even on that rare occasion when a specific psychiatric diagnosis really matters, it doesn’t matter as much as you think. Yes, it was critical to your recovery that you and your doctors checked out testosterone deficiency as a possible cause of depression; the sudden, unexpected onset of your symptoms raised the odds of your having an unusual and potentially curable cause, which deserved an extensive workup of your hormone levels, vitamin levels, evidence of inflammation, etc., so congrats for making a good decision.
You also discovered that depressive symptoms may have many causes, making depression less of a diagnosis than a cluster of symptoms. So, much like aspirin, antidepressants can improve symptoms, no matter what the cause, if they work at all. (Unfortunately, no matter what the cause, antidepressant trials often fail [35% for each trial] and require lots of time [three to four weeks] before there are noticeable results.)
In addition to lucking out with both the diagnosis and the response to antidepressants, you learned a valuable lesson, which is that anyone can get depression. It wasn’t caused by bad psychological or medical hygiene, just bad luck. Getting depression often doesn’t have a deeper meaning other than that we live in a tough, unfair world where people often get sick for no reason, and sometimes that sickness makes your brain miserable.
Your own observations are the best guide to your prognosis. If you responded rapidly to getting testosterone replacement therapy, then you may be relatively unlikely to get depressive symptoms again (as long as you continue taking the testosterone, which you may need indefinitely). At some point, if you want to experiment with reducing the testosterone treatment, ask your physician about the odds and choose a good time for experimenting, when not too much else is going on in your life.
From what you know, there’s no reason to think that your prognosis—your expected luck—is worse than anyone else’s. You made good choices, which is an essential survival skill when you happen to live in a bad luck world.
STATEMENT:
“I’d love to take my mental health for granted the way I used to, and maybe I will, after enough time of not feeling depressed has passed, but there’s no escaping knowing how easy it is to get sick. I’m proud of having made good decisions and happy to have gotten lucky enough to almost balance the bad luck I had to get sick in the first place.”
Posted by fxckfeelings on August 6, 2012
Like all symptoms of mental illness, anxiety and suicidal feelings seem controllable since they’re related to thoughts and how we look at things, especially since they have the potential to be so destructive. In reality, their primary causes are powerful, mysterious and, whether rooted in past events or biology, are not curable or easily reversible by the best treatments, most loving families, and strongest willpower. What good treatment and a loving family can do, however, is give meaning to the courage it takes to ignore pain and dangerous impulses, giving one comfort, if not control.
–Dr. Lastname
How do you get rid of the pain from your child’s suicide? My son died four years ago, and our entire family is still devastated. We are all now living with depression, anger, and our own thoughts of suicide at times. We are all in therapy but it’s moving so slowly, it doesn’t feel like life is moving forward. After a tragedy like this, how do you get your purpose back?
While I can’t imagine anything much worse than having your child suicide, the key to surviving it is to understand how similar it is to having your child die of any other cause. No parents should have to bury their child, no matter how that child’s life ended.
Intuitively, suicide feels like a preventable cause of death, so it seems justified to review the many would-haves and could-haves leading up to it.
Mental health professionals sometimes make things worse by focusing on such possible “causes” as unacknowledged trauma, unshared feelings, or unrecognized calls for help, all of which mean blame. Blame then feeds the depression and anger you talk about, poisoning normal grief with feelings of guilt, regret, and failure. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on June 21, 2012
Bad luck is like a bad smell; sometimes, it just surrounds you, meaning that you’re doing everything right but, due to an uncontrollable curse, everything’s going wrong. Then there are the special few for whom bad luck is generated internally, meaning that your brain is permanently decision-intolerant, and trying to do the right thing usually goes wrong. Either way, you’re stuck with your stink, and you’re going to get blamed unless you and others are brave enough, and realistic enough, to accept the hard-to-tolerate helplessness of having no control. If you can do that, however, you’re ready to appreciate the beautiful things you’re doing with an ugly aroma, whatever dealt it.
–Dr. Lastname
Turning 50 next year, my beard is turning gray, still alone and most importantly, no fuck-buddy! I’m saying I’m on a self imposed ‘sabbatical,’ upgrading and learning new skills, but in reality, well – this economy! But seriously, no work AND anxiety (a left over from when I was assaulted), all-new discovery of depression (as a result of recent diagnosis of Hypothyroidism or a direct result of job loss, who knows?), loss of retaining and maintaining friendships/relationships led to well, being in the space of loneliness – a lonely extrovert is so oxymoronic, I can’t stand it! Currently trying to financially survive on a sure-footed, tight-roped budget thanks to one of the four insurances that did pan out…still, sore about playing by the rules and getting shafted big time anyways and yet, retaining focus on how to get up from the shutdowns and the rapid changes that occurred in a shorter-than-2-year period. My goal is to capture original harmony and yet live in the now, which includes living an even more healthy and play-safe lifestyle along with meaningful work, having an intimate inner circle of friends and have a honeybun(s) in my life. That’s the life I am cultivating – the only thing is how the fuck do I kick-start the process to get there? Can you help me?
Sadly, Dr. Lastname has never figured out the secret to happiness (or put too much value on it), and besides, the real secret of those secrets is mostly that the short-term happiness they bring will be followed by a long period of not-happiness, much like the one you’re struggling to get out of.
On the other hand, we have figured out the secret to pride, which is really what this is about; women may make you happy, but confidence and pride will get you women. So, in order to get laid, you have to think about why your misfortune has laid you so low. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on June 14, 2012
Fear is truly frightening when it becomes contagious, usually in panic form. After all, getting scared is a manageable and sometimes life-saving experience, but getting panicked means spreading that fear to ill effect among your friends or even among your enemies. Your job then isn’t to express fearful feelings, hoping for relief but instead creating chaos; it’s to cope with the cause of your fear as constructively as possible and then draw courage from knowing you’ve done your best in a fearful world. That way you will inspire confidence in your supporters, which will hopefully be contagious, as well.
–Dr. Lastname
I got married recently, but the honeymoon period came to an abrupt end when my wife and I started fantasizing what our kids would be like and I realized that several of my wife’s relatives are mentally retarded. She has a wonderful family, but still, I don’t know how I’d deal with having an impaired child, and I can’t stop worrying. Naturally, I told her what I was feeling, hoping she could give me some reassurance, but all she said was, “well, do you want to divorce me and marry someone with healthier relatives?” I love her but I don’t know what to do with my worries. My goal is to calm down and have a healthy family.
No one knows better than a pregnant couple how truly scary life can be. The real story of the birds and the bees also involves the bear of unavoidable risk of mutation. The question then isn’t whether you should be afraid, it’s what you do with that fear.
Asking for re-assurance turns you into a kid asking grown-ups for soothing words you should never really believe. True, if they’re dumb enough to reassure you, they deserve the lawsuit you’re entitled to slap on them if things go wrong. In every other way, however, you’ve weakened yourself and spread fear to those who are relying on you for leadership.
You’re the Daddy, so act like one. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
