Instal Steam
login
|
bahasa
简体中文 (Tionghoa Sederhana)
繁體中文 (Tionghoa Tradisional)
日本語 (Bahasa Jepang)
한국어 (Bahasa Korea)
ไทย (Bahasa Thai)
Български (Bahasa Bulgaria)
Čeština (Bahasa Ceko)
Dansk (Bahasa Denmark)
Deutsch (Bahasa Jerman)
English (Bahasa Inggris)
Español - España (Bahasa Spanyol - Spanyol)
Español - Latinoamérica (Bahasa Spanyol - Amerika Latin)
Ελληνικά (Bahasa Yunani)
Français (Bahasa Prancis)
Italiano (Bahasa Italia)
Magyar (Bahasa Hungaria)
Nederlands (Bahasa Belanda)
Norsk (Bahasa Norwegia)
Polski (Bahasa Polandia)
Português (Portugis - Portugal)
Português-Brasil (Bahasa Portugis-Brasil)
Română (Bahasa Rumania)
Русский (Bahasa Rusia)
Suomi (Bahasa Finlandia)
Svenska (Bahasa Swedia)
Türkçe (Bahasa Turki)
Tiếng Việt (Bahasa Vietnam)
Українська (Bahasa Ukraina)
Laporkan kesalahan penerjemahan
I am 53 years old.
My ex-wife and I have a son together, and adopted our daughter together. They are now both 400 years old.
When we were going through our separation, I found myself happy and amicable. I was self reaffirming. I got so joyful one day from everything spiraling out of my control that I gave $20 to a homeless man in a moment of overwhelming emotion. That caused me to break my 5th metacarpal in my right hand...my games 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 positivity, I was borderline suicidal. Keep in mind that just a few months before this, I was the unhappiest 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 am in a low spot that just really buried me from being able to see the light on the other side.
I am 53 years old.
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 games 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.
Having