So, "post partem depression" is the new legal defense of the new millenium. I know all about this affliction and I know the power it can have over someone. After my appendectomy in June of this year, I suffered from post partem depression, or "PPD," as those of us in treatment call it. After my appendix was removed, I nurtured it for a while, but I just couldn't bring myself to love it. I started losing my sanity. I carried the little bastard for 27 years, and now that it wasn't inside me... I guess I became emotionally lost. I started to drink more, it was affecting my job. Then, my girlfriend told me that the appendix was taking too much time away from her and she felt like she was competing with the extracted organ. I didn't want my girlfriend to leave me, so I did what I had to do. I strapped the appendix into its car seat and put it into my truck. After driving for a while, I parked at the edge of Laurelhurst Pond, a man-made pond in Portland, OR. I released the parking brake and let the truck roll into the water.
I feel awful.
This is week two of a horrible bout of insomnia. This is what sleep depravation conjures up inside my brain. Where the hell is the God Damned NyQuil?
-gooch
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