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Not all thoughts, feelings, and actions are pleasant. It’s ok. You need to ask yourself if you’re up to looking into these places. It’s ok if you need to skip something that hits to close to home. You’re not going to hurt my feelings. A lot of people have been hurt by suicide. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it with me. I’m NOT trying to get 500 emails begging me not to do it or 5 asshats giving advice on how to and telling me to Youtube it for their enjoyment.About two months into the initial phase of my illness is when I realized how fucked I truly was. At that point, they hadn’t found a reliable way for me to speak on a regular basis yet. I couldn’t work. Couldn’t pay enough attention to watch TV. Couldn’t write fiction. It was then I started thinking about suicide. You start asking questions. Just how bad am I willing to let it get before I say fuck it? What will living as a cripple cost my family vs living without me? Will my wife love me?I started drawing criteria.. “Don’t worry, I’ll text you a code. It’s keyless.” He replied“How cute. How high tech.” I thought to myself.I got his address and doggy food instructions and promised that I’d walk the dog. I didn’t have anything better going on that Saturday, so I figured at least I’d get to see how my rich brother lived.I woke up late Saturday, hung over from a late night at the strip club Friday and wandered my way to my brother’s place. He lived in the suburbs of Austin, out in the rural rich area. I pulled into his driveway, impressed at his place. I guess the car dealership paid well.“Or maybe he’s pimping out his wife? I’d fuck her.” I thought to myself with a laugh as I punched in the code and opened the door. Their dog greeted me with a lot of licks and tail wags and I located the food and rubbed his head a bit. Seeing that I had gotten out of bed for such a short task, I decided to help myself to his booze cabinet and wander around his house.The back yard had a pool and hot tub, and I.
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Tommie, stand up.” She dutifully got out of bed, and stood next to it with her weight on one foot. “Not like that,” Elaine said. “Stand up straight. I can’t measure your boobs if you’re all slouched.” She measured around her ribcage, and mentally added five inches. “Hm-m-m. 40,” she said, and measured around the tips of her nipples. “Oh look!“ Elaine exclaimed. “Little tiny goose bumpies on her aureolae! And perky nipples, too!” “Hey!” Tommie said, “Stop tickling.” “Oh, stop whining,” Elaine said. “If you’re gonna become a lady, this isn’t HALF of what you’re gonna go through. 43. Well, guess what, girls and used-to-be boy? We’re up to a C cup, and my guess is these,” here she stopped and hefted Tommie’s breasts with both hands, ”aren’t finished growing yet.” Tommie climbed back into bed, and they all three settled in, leaning against the headboard. “Tommie, Honey, do you have to pee?” Charlene asked suddenly. “No, why?” “Lainie, be a sweetie, and go get us some beer. We’re gonna.

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