disease [Theme] Page 4

Too much is not good.

Which would you live if in your youth you didn’t look for your own path, but listened to me

When love hurts, it's not love, it's a disease that needs to be treated!

Talkativeness is an age-related disease.

Depression is a serious disease with a high probability of death (70% of depressed patients have suicidal thoughts, 15% commit suicide). Depression cannot be ignored.

But it turns out that even harmony can be quarantined, in which it will leave me forever. Lifelong illness - restrictions forever...

The beautiful weather destroyed me...

In the insides there is a tombstone.

Worse than dying of cancer, just having a child dying of cancer.

People quickly lose their vigilance. Engaged in politics and conflict, they are distracted from health issues, causing disease and pandemics to rage.

- How would... How would I form. Well, for example. Perhaps, it is only possible, the period of formation of me as a person fell on the acute phase of the conflict between my parents, where my father acted as an abuser. Ultimately, this protracted conflict provoked depression, against which my mother developed a serious illness, and then she died. It is also possible that the father, unable to accept his guilt, decided to extrapolate it to anyone from his inner circle except himself, and I turned out to be just the most suitable option for this. And the competition for mom's attention throughout her illness is a consequence of this extrapolation. A new kind of dependent relationship arose in which the father met with increasing resistance from his son and, ultimately, declared himself the winner in this situation by performing ritual intercourse with my wife. But this is a theory. Of course, you can interpret things differently. Could you explain to me from the point of view of classical psychology: Why did my dad decide to fuck my wife!? Only mind you not about the reverse Oedipus, mind you not about Oedipus, I staked it out first.

Many patients need not be stuffed with medicines, but well angered.

Diseases are calls from the future life. Poor man: in youth passions torment, and in old age infirmities.

I began to pinch him in various places, lightly at first, then harder. Whenever he winced in pain, I rejoiced. So, he has his brains in place and I won't have to roll him in a wheelchair until the day he dies. Otherwise, no problem, I was ready to crush his head. I loved him enough.