Monthly Archives: January 2018

WHAT IS A SCREENER AND WHY IS IT IMPORTANT TO CINEPHILES?

I thought I was the only who got excited about screeners. A screener is a version of a film that the studios send out to members of the Screen Actors Guild or to companies they want to purchase their film. Usually it’s while the film is still in theaters or a few months before it’s released to the public. I’m not sure if they still send them to any companies.

When I worked for Blockbuster as a Manager I would get screeners all the time. My employees knew not to open these boxes.

I have always loved movies. They have always been an escape for me. I was pretty good at picking what indie film would do well. The owners of the stores I worked for only liked to bring in the big hits. They didn’t like to watch foreign films, horror films, or indie films, so most of the time they didn’t order them.

When I thought it was a mistake not to bring one these films in, I would do it on my own at my own expense. Some thought it was stupid of me. But when 1 owner would go over the numbers and say “How come D’s store has a higher rental rate and is bringing in more money on this title?” Then it didn’t look stupid. Eventually they started to ask my opinion on these films and if they should get them for all their stores.

Receiving a box of screeners was always exciting for me. You never knew if it was going to be all garbage or all Oscar nominees. I did share as soon as I finished each one. For me being able to see a movie that was still in the theater was a luxury. My stores never would’ve carried some movies if I hadn’t seen them first as screeners. Some of the movies never made it to our theaters. Hedwig and The Angry Inch wasn’t going to be playing at my local theater. It was playing at my sister’s at the time because she lived in Oakland, California. There’s a big difference in the audience. I brought it in anyway and it did well.

I really have no idea where I’m going with this. I just started one of my medications again. I had to be off of it for 4 days because no pharmacies around me had it. I always know it’s going to be a problem and start calling a week ahead and yet I still couldn’t get it. A medication that if you stop suddenly you can have seizures and die. The withdrawal is horrible. The suicidal thoughts are not pleasant either. I had to keep it all to myself because my Dad worries and my sister would say it’s my own fault.

So I know this is probably scattered but I feel better than I have in a long time, probably because I’m now manic but that’s better than the other option. Thanks everyone.


THE NEED TO REMINISCE

 

These were some of the places I drank at, had fun at or got in trouble at. I met interesting people and I met some of the worse people. Some are known and some are no longer here.

I remember filling my purse with Purple Passion and sneaking it in to Rocky Point. We weren’t old enough to drink. We would go to see hair bands that hadn’t exactly “made it” yet. Of course me being me while drunk, I made sure W and I met them all. It helped that W is extremely attractive. The problem was she never knew it and didn’t know how to use it. I could talk a good game if I was drunk so it worked.

The problem with W not knowing how attractive she was is I had to be alert at all times.

One night there were two guys in black leather jackets with long black curly hair. One of them was in his 30’s and had a walking stick. He didn’t need a walking stick. He was using it to lift the skirts of girls/women that walked by. I noticed it but W did not. I never wore mini skirts or any skirts and even if I did I doubt anyone would try to look under it. I was still around 200 pounds at the time.

We walked by and sure enough I see the stick headed W’s direction and she still had no clue. It touched the inside of her thigh when I grabbed it and threw it into the Beer Garden. People were not happy. But I didn’t care. No one hurt W and she felt the same about me.

We met Danger Danger, Kip Winger (I accidentally insulted his height by calling him petite), Pantera (Bad choice to go into the pit. Then I don’t remember the rest of the night where I supposedly brought them to a friends house for refreshments), Dream Theater, another band that begins with a S like Slaughter that wore flannels but I can’t remember the name. We probably went to a lot of shows there I just can’t remember.

Club Babyhead wasn’t for the weak. It was kind of crazy and we weren’t supposed to be in there. You couldn’t avoid getting hit by someone. Most likely it was going to be this football player/wrestler we had gone to school with. He was huge and it was all muscle. He was an attractive guy but not someone you could talk politics with or anything else too difficult. I was kicked out for good when I had words with the bouncer, another large man with a shiny bald head. This is where my bro in law first met Green Day and they stayed at his mom’s house. BFF’s ever since. So you know it wasn’t yesterday.

The Station is hard to talk about. The fire was horrible, the loss of lives haunting. I had my own demons with the place and the people who worked and went there. I did a lot of drinking there. I was never cut off. I would go with J and he would be passed out at the bar one minute and have another beer in front of him the next. I had seen people puke and go back to being served. I didn’t care at the time because I was still being served.

I also started going to The Station before I was 21. It depended on who I was with and who was working the door. Some of them let me in for extra cash and some for free if I was with the right person.

I met Sebastian Bach for the first time there, a guy who had been in KISS once gave me a lovely offer that I declined, I spent time with Zakk Wylde and his family when I found out my Mom had Lung Cancer, had a run in with the lead singer of RATT, spent hours talking to the lead singer of White Lion Mike Tramp, there were probably more but I don’t remember. There were more bad memories than good that went with the place. I was banned once but I don’t remember why. I do remember my phone ringing nonstop the night of the fire. People thought I still went there and were afraid I was there that night.

At Lupo’s I remember seeing FIGHT and I think VOIVOD was opening. I got into a fight with W’s boyfriend and my cousin went home with a member of VOIVOD that even I wouldn’t have touched with a 10 foot pole. He kept asking if I was joining them the entire ride back to J’s apartment. His English wasn’t great and neither was his name which fit him perfectly.

The METOO movement has brought up many unpleasant things for me. I’ve been sexually assaulted in some way or another more times than I like to admit. At first I thought I deserved it. I had such low self-esteem and the people I hung around with used it to their advantage. When I did tell someone nothing was done because they said “You were drunk. We can’t take your statement seriously.” The other problem was one of the people in the group had a Father that was friendly with members of the police department.

I take responsibility for continuing to drink and be in their company. That was my choice. It made me an angry, suspicious, and at times violent, person. I went from low self-esteem to raging bitch after several years of being treated like garbage.

I got a little better when I stopped having anything to do with them. Unfortunately memories like those never fade and that rage would come back now and then.

A career didn’t keep me silent, money or fame didn’t keep me silent, out and out fear kept me silent. When you’re beaten so badly you don’t recognize yourself in the mirror and you try to tell your family that you didn’t fall down the stairs drunk he did it to you and they say “We just can’t believe you anymore. You’re a drunk”. It changes your view of the World.

Eventually my family found out the truth. It was too late. The damage had been done. I was so scared when it was happening because at one point I couldn’t breathe. Blood was going down the back of my throat and my nose was swollen shut and bleeding also. I was pinned to the floor so I couldn’t lift my head, I felt like I was drowning. I just saw red and black before passing out. I then woke up at the bottom of his apartment stairs with him laughing at the top coming down towards me.

I don’t know. Lately everything bothers me. All the different movements. No one seems to have a story like mine. A shame filled, alcohol filled, hate filled, mental illness filled, never ending self loathing story.

 

 


MENTAL HEALTH AND ADDICTION STATISTICS AND INFORMATION

I like statistics and research but it’s hard to see some numbers when they are not changing much year after year. It’s even harder knowing that not much is being done about it. Here is some of the newest information and you can decide for yourself.

  • Approximately 1 in 5 adults experiences mental illness in a given year.
  • 1 in 25 adults experiences serious mental illness in a given year that interferes with or limits 1 or more major live activities.
  • 1.1% of adults live with Schizophrenia.
  • 2.6% live with Bipolar Disorder.
  • 6.9% had at least 1 major depressive episode in the past year.
  • 18.1% experienced an anxiety disorder such as PTSD, OCD, and specific phobias.
  • Among the 20.2 million adults who experience a substance abuse disorder 50.5% had a co-occurring mental illness.
  • Half of all chronic mental illness begins by age 14.
  • Despite effective treatment there are long delays, sometimes decades, between the first signs of symptoms and a diagnosis.
  • People living with serious mental illness face an increased risk of chronic medical conditions.
  • People with serious mental illness die on average 25 years earlier than other people.
  • More than 90% of children who die by suicide have a mental health condition.
  • Each day an average of 18-22 veterans die by suicide because they don’t get the help they need.

This is a report sent to the government every year. Every year nothing changes. I’m one person with limited time left to change things. I don’t have the energy to change my socks. I have severe chronic medical conditions that interfere with my mental health.

Last night I received a phone call about my student loan. I started crying on the phone. I was babbling and stuttering. At one point I said “My dad is worried right now he won’t have the money to bury me so how can I pay you?”. The thing is the loan isn’t supposed to be there. If something happened where you went on Disability after school and didn’t even get a chance to really use what you learned they are supposed to “forgive” the loan. But only if the paper from Disability says when your next review is.

I’ve asked Disability to send me the paper 4 times. Each time I get the same one saying that I’m on Permanent Disability but there is no mention of a review so they won’t except it. I get frustrated when the loan people call because I can’t understand why they won’t take it. I told them I’m sick enough that I don’t need a review! I won’t be getting better only worse. That’s why they won’t put a review date on there.

I’m at a point where I don’t care. One of my birds is dying and we’ve had her for over 20 years, my Pomeranian won’t be here much longer she’s 14 and has had epilepsy since she was 3. My dad’s health is getting worse, he looks like skeleton and I don’t want to be the one who finds him. I don’t want to watch another parent die. It’s too much. I can’t do it. We fight sometimes now because we’re both sick but before that we were like best friends. We would go to the movies together, do anything that involved animals together, watch TV together and laugh, he kept me sober for the first 5 years by being there. He’s always been there. Mentally I know it will break me.

It’s why I want to move to Florida or at least spend a few months out of the year there. If only everything wasn’t about money. My sister acted excited about the new jewelry I’ve been making and said she wanted to help with marketing. Of course I can’t get in touch with her now or when I do she’s too tired to talk. She’s the best salesperson I know and has a friend who owns a boutique and likes my jewelry. I’m being selfish. She probably is tired. I’m just confused and scared.


TWISTED MEMORIES AND MAYBE MOVING ON

It’s a horrible thing not to remember events in your own life. I often have to call my best friend and ask her if I’ve met someone before or been somewhere before or if I’m still allowed certain places. I can’t ask her about family stuff because she wasn’t there.

My Dad and I have been fighting about the TV a lot because he won’t take the time to learn how to use it. He’s 74 and stubborn. He couldn’t find the right weather channel and flipped out. He threw the remote at me and said “Get this shit off here!”. I picked up the remote, placed it next to him, sat back down and said “Do it yourself”. He didn’t like that and jumped up from his seat coming towards me with his hand raised. I put my foot up and stopped him fast.

When I told my sister about it she said “I don’t know why you’re surprised. He used to beat Mom all the time when we were little.” I was stunned. I don’t remember this at all. I remember one night they were both drunk and yelling at each other. My Mom was pushing my Dad and wouldn’t stop. He did slap her. He admits this and more than made up for it over the years. He actually quit drinking cold turkey the next day and has been sober for 37 years.

I called my Mom’s sister. I’m very close to her and I know she would tell me the truth. She was not happy with my sister. She said my version was correct. I said “Auntie, my Mom would’ve went to one of your brothers or killed him herself. She didn’t take crap from anyone. Or am I wrong about that?”. She laughed and told me I wasn’t wrong at all.

We also talked about the possibility of me going down to Naples, Florida and finding a monthly or yearly rental. She isn’t happy living with her son. She’s past retirement age and still working full time, doing everyone’s laundry, all the shopping and the cooking. She’s also the free babysitter. She’s like my Mom was, doesn’t know how to say no to her kids. I want to help her. I love the area of Florida she lives in. I don’t want her to pay as much as she is at her son’s house I want her to be able to have a place to live and not work full time. I love her so much and I’m happy around her and even when I’m alone down there.

The problem is the guilt I feel thinking about leaving my Dad alone. Our relationship isn’t healthy. I can’t get up in the middle of the night without him yelling. I can’t get up too early without him yelling. I can’t change anything in the house. If I go to a store and lose track of time and it starts to get dark outside he starts throwing up. NINE AND A HALF YEARS without drinking or getting into trouble or really doing anything. I’m 45 and single. The car I bought still doesn’t have 35,000 miles on it. I bought it 6 months ago with 34,600 miles on it. I’m rotting away. This isn’t living.

I love my Dad and all I can think about is “What if something happens to him if I leave?” My twin lives 10 minutes away but I know she won’t check on him.

I have a lot to think about.

Rhode Island to Florida isn’t that far, is it?


Functional Neurological Symptom Disorder (Conversion Disorder)

I can’t remember when I started to have problems with my memory, pain in my muscles and joints, vision changes and muscle weakness. I’ve had these issues for so long that I just got used to them.

When my hands first started to tremor I didn’t think much of it. It only happened when I buttoned a shirt or counted money. When I began having trouble keeping food on my spoon or fork and spilling whatever I was drinking because my hands were shaking I knew something was going on.

I went to my GP who sent me to a Neurologist. My GP had mentioned Parkinson’s and MS. I admit I was worried. The Neurologist diagnosed me with Essential Tremors. He had found other brain abnormalities that I found scary but he didn’t. Essential Tremors are hereditary and no one in my family has ever had them.

About a year went by when I started to stutter.

A person with Conversion Disorder (CD) or Functional Neurological Symptom Disorder (FND) experiences physical symptoms without an underlying physical cause. Symptoms are usually connected to emotional or psychological stress or trauma. The person has no control over the symptoms and are not deliberately producing them.

The typical signs and symptoms of FND are:

  • Deafness or hearing difficulties
  • Difficulty concentrating *
  • Difficulty swallowing *
  • Fatigue *
  • Impaired movement *
  • Lack of responsiveness *
  • Loss of balance *
  • Loss of senses
  • Numbness *
  • Pain in muscles, skin, or joints *
  • Paralysis
  • Seizures
  • Speech problems *
  • Tremors *
  • Vision Problems *
  • Weakness *
  • Twitches

Symptoms may come and go or they may persist. They also vary in severity and location. In some people they can last for years and make everyday life difficult. In other people the symptoms are short term.

The exact cause is still not known. Researches used to believe FND happened mostly to low income women with little to no education. This has been proved to be false.

The other false belief is that Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is the way to cure FND but CBT has only a 13% success rate.

When my stuttering got to the point I couldn’t talk my Psychiatrist sent me to a Doctor who specialized in Movement Disorders. He was more than happy to tell me that the reason I was stuttering and my hands had tremors and I was losing my balance was that I had Conversion Disorder.

I knew nothing about it at the time and I was shocked. All I could think was “My brain is doing this?” “If my brain is doing this why can’t I make it stop?”. In fact the harder I tried to control the stuttering the worse it would get. The more frustrated and embarrassed I became the worse everything would get. I didn’t understand that yes it’s my brain but I still have no control over it.

I understand it now but many other people don’t. My family certainly doesn’t. Of course I am one of the lucky ones who most likely will not get better because I have an underlying mental illness, addiction, and traumas.

There’s also another issue. I do have actual physical problems. When my GP or any Doctor checks my reflexes, I don’t have any. They keep boppin’ my knees and nothing happens. I keep telling them they are wasting their time but some are determined. Same thing with my blood pressure. Some nurses will get 3 different machines even when I tell them I have LOW blood pressure. They just won’t accept what they’re seeing. Which kind of worries me but no one else. I’ve stopped asking questions.

Again, I do what I can depending on the day.


HOW DO YOU KNOW WHEN YOU’RE DONE?

I’ve been losing weight again, I don’t feel like eating or drinking, and I don’t care. I can’t remember when I had my stents changed for my kidney but I think I’m a few months past due. I don’t feel like making an appointment, getting the blood work done, going back for the surgery, I don’t really care.

I haven’t colored my hair in months, I don’t put make up on anymore even if I actually leave the house. I do not look at anyone, I keep my head down. I’m getting worse, it used to bother me but now I don’t care.

I’ve been trying so hard to force the people around me to understand how I feel or what are real illnesses that I sometimes can’t control. I keep doing things for people hoping they will love me and instead it backfires. I never should’ve bought a Smart TV thinking my Dad would learn how to use it. I couldn’t keep paying a $220 cable bill for TV he couldn’t hear and kept complaining about. He refuses to learn and yells at me daily about the TV.

My sister shut her phone off so I can’t talk to her.

I’ve been stuttering more and more. I also keep falling down. I see red spots, then black, then the floor. I think it’s because I have chronic low blood pressure but it’s not fun when you’re at the store and go to get something from the bottom shelf. I also noticed when I’m writing sometimes I write a word 3 times. The same word 3 times in row and I don’t realize it until I proof read.

My Dad scares me a lot. I wish he didn’t. I can’t take the stomping, slamming, muttering, throwing things, then a booming GODDAMN! I feel like I’m going to throw up constantly and there’s a lump in my throat. I can’t finish a necklace because he starts a tantrum and I have to stop what I’m doing.

I don’t know what to do. I’m just feeling a little lost lately.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY: THE TRUTH ABOUT MY ALCOHOLISM

When I drank I was able to talk to people and do things I would never do. But I have to remember most of the things I did were most likely done during a Manic Episode or even Psychosis. I hurt myself, my family, my friends, and strangers. I didn’t care who got hurt when I was drinking. I believed I was only hurting myself. This is a lie.

Every time I tried to kill myself I was drunk and it hurt or scared the people around me. Again I thought I was only doing it to myself. I didn’t think my death would matter to anyone else. I didn’t think my drinking which was slowly killing me mattered to anyone.

After my 5th attempt I stopped for some reason. I kept drinking but I binged instead of drinking daily. Somehow I thought this was better. It was worse. I would try to complete 7 days of drinking in one night. I did this for years. It took a toll on my body and brain.

I was forced to stop drinking for period of time and go to an alcohol treatment center where they examined me physically and cognitively. I didn’t pass either exams.

My liver was enlarged and I had severe issues with my memory. I also had diabetes and didn’t know it. My IQ was a 95. For anyone who doesn’t know, that’s not good. A 90 means you’re mentally challenged. To be fair I was given the IQ test while detoxing. I’m not sure why. When all was said done I went back to drinking. They told me all of these things that were wrong with me but offered no solutions. They didn’t do a Mental Health Assessment which I would have failed with flying colors. Telling me I have “The brain of an 82 year old alcoholic man” did nothing to help me.

What finally did it was watching my mom die. I knew I had to be there for my dad. Then I kind of fell apart. I couldn’t stop crying, shaking, falling down, and my speech changed. My dad was worried so I went to the Doctor who finally sent me to someone who asked about my family history, my feelings, my fears, how I felt on a daily basis, all the right questions. I finally received a diagnosis and understood why it was I felt the need to drink and I stopped.

It hasn’t been easy, it hasn’t been fun, it isn’t supposed to be. You do have to work at it. When you mental illness and addiction you are harder to treat. There are so many Doctors that just don’t want to handle both or don’t know how. Now throw in Kidney Failure and your chances of finding a Doctor willing to help you goes down even more. I do what I can. I’m not always positive and I know this. I’m working on it. I’m trying not to compare myself to others. I have the hardest time with not blaming myself for everything. This is my biggest issue and it will be the toughest to deal with but if I want to actually live my life than I have to find a way.e8000a56cf151c641cb649d32dab7b0d

When I see Steven Tyler perform “Amazing” in this video on YouTube it makes me cry. He shows so much emotion ranging from deep sadness to great joy at being alive.


BIRTHDAYS AND OTHER STUFF

When you are a twin, Birthday Parties are not really that fun. When you have problems with Anxiety at a young age they are worse. When you don’t understand why you feel the way you do or why can’t “act normal” they’re a nightmare.

I’ve described previous Birthday Parties where I would watch my twin sister from a hiding place trying to understand how she could talk to people, laugh, or even smile. I felt sick and wanted to go home. I’ve always had a hard time making friends. My voice is not loud and I’ve always had a hard time being heard. I was also afraid of saying the wrong thing or saying something that would make other people laugh at me. They already laughed at me because of my thick glasses, my weight, and my skin. I had won the lottery for being bullied.

It wasn’t until I started drinking that I actually had some great Birthday Parties. Sober people with self-esteem and self-respect wouldn’t have thought they were great but I did.

I think it was my 18th year when J. did a surprise party for me. There was HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner, a keg, cupcakes, an entire football team (invited just for me), a raffle (I won a bottle of Fire Water which I drank), and about 100 people in and out of his small apartment wishing me a Happy Birthday. Things did take a little turn for the worse after I drank the bottle of Fire Water but it was still good. (Fire Water at the time was as close to 100 proof as you could get Cinnamon Schnapps that we would put in the freezer).

Most of my Birthdays while I was drinking were actually fun. I think.

I have not celebrated my Birthday in the 9 and half years or so I’ve been sober. I am down to 1 friend who works a lot and has a boyfriend. My twin celebrates our Birthday with her husband and children. My Dad usually forgets or just says Happy Birthday.

January 11th I will be 45. I’m kind of feeling this one. I’ve been depressed for a long time now and can’t seem to climb out of it. My Dad and I are fighting constantly. Mostly because I keep trying too hard. He refuses to learn new things like how to use the new TV I bought him or the right foods to eat so he doesn’t die while on Dialysis. He also insists on shoveling the driveway when he doesn’t have to. My anxiety is at an all time high.

Lately he likes to make little comments or digs. I remember he used to do this with my Mom sometimes. My Mom would give it back to him. I have a hard time doing that because he scares me at times and I have no where else to live.

I’ve been doing DBT for the last few weeks and it sucks just as much as I remember. “Don’t judge your judging”. Ok. That’s a brilliant idea. I wish I had thought of that. “Take a walk outside when you’re triggered”. Ok. It’s 9 degrees out and there’s snow so that isn’t happening. And my favorite “Try doing some exercise or yoga”. If I had the energy or will to wash my hair, get dressed, shovel out my car, rob someone to pay for yoga lessons, maybe I would. “Make someone you love cookies”. Why? So they can yell at me for using the stove? Complain about what kind I made? Because this is what I live with.

It’s almost my Birthday and I’ll cry if I want to.5e507ed572b2cde6eba0358f3836f8ff


A VISIT TO MY PSYCHIATRIST

Today is the first time I’ve left my house in 3 weeks. I had to go see my psychiatrist and get ready for the big snow storm coming tomorrow. I hate snow and I hate the cold. I hate a lot of things lately.

As usual I was called into his office late. His first question was “How is your Crohn’s?”. First I don’t have Crohn’s Disease I have Celiac Disease so that was strike was one. I hate correcting people. I decided this visit I was going to write everything down that has been going on. I also wrote down observations from my Dad and my twin sister just in case. I was going to correct him when he said the wrong diagnosis or medication too.

I told him that I’ve been having trouble concentrating, leaving the house, issues with controlling anger and irritability, and going over past events. My family thinks I have gotten worse in the last year. I also told him that spoke to a few of the companies making my medications and they said that they needed to be adjusted because of my kidney failure. The Klonopin manufacturer said it’s most likely only staying in my system about 2-3 hours. The maximum dose for people like me is 4mg and I’m on 2mg. I only take it at night. He disagreed and said I had probably built up a tolerance to it and it’s only a band aid and not meant to be used as a cure.

I told him I refuse to live like I used to, dry heaving all day with a lump in my throat for no reason. That’s one of the biggest reasons I drank.

He said we could try an antidepressant. I think when I started laughing he got nervous. I have a list of all the antidepressants I’ve been on. It’s 2 pages long. I asked him if there were any new ones not related to the ones I’ve already tried.

His answer? “Trintellix” I said “You mean the one that’s just like Brintellix?”. He said “Yes”. I said “The one I was on when I almost got arrested for assaulting a police officer?”. He said “Oh! You’ve tried that one?”. Yes moron I have. If you looked down at your screen it would probably be listed there. Or maybe not because he gave me a bag filled with samples that the sales rep had just dropped off and must have thought I would be a good guinea pig.

He then suggested another medication for PTSD but he didn’t say the name of it. He asked if maybe I had been eating Gluten and that was why there was change. I told him I eat 1 big bowl of Rice Chex a day and that’s pretty much it.

Then he asks me “How are you managing your Eating Disorder then?”. WTF? I said “WHAT Eating Disorder?” “I’ve never been diagnosed with an eating disorder. My appetite is poor because I have Chronic Kidney Disease”. His response was “You do?”.

He did mention the hospital where he works is doing Ketamine trials because he thinks it’s the same as mushrooms or organic psychedelics. I couldn’t help it at this point. I said “There a little late. There are already a lot of studies showing the negative effects of Ketamine specifically with people who have PTSD or Conversion Disorder.” He didn’t respond to that one.

He repeatedly mentioned Therapy and I repeatedly mentioned that I already tried every kind of Therapy there is including Shock Therapy.

My family doesn’t want to talk to me, I cry all the time, and I don’t want to leave the house.

The only person that has offered any kind of help or support is my Auntie Lee. She called me yesterday to tell me she loves me and that I should come to Florida and be with her. If I had the money I would in a second. She’s my Mom’s sister and I love her. She’s positive 99% of the time. We’re like best friends when we get together.

I think I’ll start saving my money. It’s time to make a change. the-mind-of-freud


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