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Steve:
Always nice to see your name and postings. I share my own 9/11 story with you. I call it. "If my old chair could talk."
I was already very depressed from being a male victim of d.v. and d.v. law when 9/11 hit. I just seemed to sink ever deeper and longer into that lazy boy recliner till I must have seemed like an unending burden to that poor old chair. When did it get better. I don't know. It didn't happened all at once, but one day I thought I heard my tired old chair speak to me, "Get your immense unbearable weight off my back. You're killing me." I laughed, "Silly chair, you can't talk. Any fool knows that." Maybe then, after about six months, is when it started to get better. My old beat up chair still complains to me about the abuse my ponderous, over weight hulk puts on its tired frame, but I just chuckle off its complaints and curl up snuggly in my potatoesque fashion and enjoy the lazy life.
Getting active in men's issues that address the source of all that pain gives me less time in my old chair than before, and I think that's actually very good overall, although it kinda tires me out some days. All things considered, it's a whole lot better than being depressed and lying like a comatose in that loyal old friend that's shared some of my deepest and most anguished hours.
Ray
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by Anonymous User on Thursday September 12, @03:28PM EST (#2)
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Great story, Ray. If you lengthened it and let Steve proofread it (he is a writer and a lawyer) you might be able to publish it somewhere.
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