My ex-wife and I have a daughter together, and adopted our son together. They are now both 4 years old.

When we were going through our separation, I found myself lost and miserable. I was self destructive. I got so mad one day from everything spiraling out of my control that I punched some concrete in a moment of overwhelming emotion. That caused me to break my 5th metacarpal in my right hand... my working hand... my profile-reading hand.. the hand that I held and carried my children to bed with.. The hand I desperately needed to make sure I could continue to provide.

After learning of the severity of my self-inflicted damage, I was borderline suicidal. Keep in mind that just a few months before this, I was the happiest man with no history of depression or anxiety. I have never had fits of rage, or been one to break down and cry, but I was in a low spot that just really buried me from being able to see the light on the other side.

MILKY MILKY WARM AND TASTY!

MOMMY! MILKY! PLEASE BE HASTY!

REFRESHING DRINK FROM MOMMY'S UDDERS!

I WANT MOMMY'S AND NO OTHER'S!

GIVE IT! GIVE IT! GIVE IT NOW!

GIVE ME MILKY, LAZY SOW!

UNTIL YOU DO I'LL SCREAM I'LL SHOUT!

I'LL CRY I'LL WHINE AND STOMP ABOUT!

UNTIL MY BELLY IS FULL AND HAPPY!

I REFUSE TO TAKE NAPPY!

ma rib!!!

+rep "wanna see me jump onto the crane?"

aim lock + bhop scripts

+rep cute ass