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Depression is My Heritage
Depression is My Heritage 9/21/06
I've known there was something different about my family for a long time. When I was five, I had to go visit my aunt and uncle in Ohio for two weeks. At the time, I really wasn't sure what was going on, only that mommy needed some time to rest after my baby brother got back from a ten day stay at the hospital and major surgery. For years I never really understood why my mother would do things, or go to see "friends" that I never got to see. Only recently have I learned the true reason that lay behind all of these events, as well as other personalities in my mother's family.
My mother's depression started in high school, and got worse in college. She didn't seek help because of the stigmas that surrounded mental illness at the time. Instead she pushed on, ignoring the occasional "spells" she would have. She made it through college, and marriage with only comparatively minor
Five years ago my life, my world, changed.
Has it really been that long
Since their screams filled the air?
Have five long years really passed
Since lives were snuffed out,
Some in an instant of unbelieving horror
Others in an agonizing torture
Of waiting and hoping for help not to come
Wounds so old seem so fresh
What those people did
I don't understand why
I cannot comprehend
Its just too hard
I ask myself time and again
What has happened to us?
All I know is that we have fallen.
We have fallen
Will we ever be able to right ourselves?
Chasing the Wind
The sun was bright, and the air pleasantly warm that day in the forest. It was the perfect day to start an adventure, or so Nico said; Toki was less inclined to believe it. The two boys, both no older than six, had been traveling through the woods for the better part of the day. It was only in the last few hours, however, that little Toki had started to doubt his friend. As he watched the bobbing blonde head of hair in front of him, the poor boy couldn't help but feel tired.
"Why are we doing this again?" Toki whined for the twelfth time in the past three hours.
Nico, who had given up counting after five, his limit, only smiled at his dark featured friend, "To become Timan, of course!"
"Nico, you can't become a Timan. Either you are one, or you're not. Everyone knows that!" Toki said, still using that whining tone.
Nico refused to let his friend dampen his spirits. "Fine then, we'll prove we're Tima
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
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