Lifestyle
For the lives that we love, and everything that comes with it.
What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger
I don't talk to people much about social issues. I don't think I should have to explain why everyone should receive basic human rights. The right to be in a country founded on immigrants. The right to choose what you do with your body. The right to proper health care and mental treatment. These are all things that every person on the planet should rightfully have, these among others. I shouldn't have to spell this out.
By Sam Kissiar8 years ago in Viva
My HG Pregnancy
I have Hyperemesis Gravidarum, which is also known as HG. HG is rare and happens during pregnancy. It is defined as excessive vomiting during pregnancy, which causes dehydration and weight loss. HG also comes with extreme nausea which makes eating almost impossible when it's at its peaks. I was diagnosed at about 10 weeks.
By Alisha Miller8 years ago in Families
The Seven Stages of Grief
The Seven Stages of Grief When my father passed away in 2015, it was a rough time in general. He had cancer in his lungs, esophagus and a tumor pressing on his brain, impairing his speech. It was hard because neither my brothers nor I had ever dealt with a death in the immediate family like this before. Thankfully, he already planned everything out ahead of time. I often wonder if I grieved in the appropriate manner. I’m still not sure if I did, or I just did it my own way. I was told by many people that it would eventually hit me, and hit me hard. Maybe it did subconsciously, because I never felt like it did. I decided to look into the seven stages of grief and give my outlook on them from my experiences.
By James Howell8 years ago in Families
A One Parent Child
They say there are two sides to every story but this is from a child’s view, a third side to this story. I have never grown up with any sort of male influence in my life. It’s always been me, my mom, and my little brother. I don’t know who my father is. I have nothing. Not for want of trying, but because no one is willing to listen to the cries of a broken heart. A void sits in my heart and has done for 27 years. I never really thought about having two parents when I was very small but then I listened to the other children in my classes and that’s when it hit me, I only have one parent. The other children would get excited to go on picnics or go to the beach with their mommies and daddies. I got excited if my mother would watch Saturday morning cartoons with my brother and I. I began to ask questions but my mother always shut me down, as a child I should be seen and not heard. When I was just 10 years old my mother admitted that my brother and I do not share a father, making us step brother/sister. Naturally I began telling people that we were not real siblings, to which I was repeatedly told off for. The world was already confusing me. The other children in my classes couldn’t understand why every Father’s Day I drew my mother a card. I didn’t want to be left out of all the fun, doing arts and crafts. As I progressed into high school my interest in my father dwindled as my studies and home life took up all of my time. I began asking questions again at the age of 14. This is when I was assigned a counsel lot in school and diagnosed with reactive depression and social anxiety. By 16 I was diagnosed with chronic depression and severe anxiety. My days were spent in darkness. I was bullied in school due to an undiagnosable skin condition I have on my face. Home life was no picnic either, the neighbors making comments about the amount of chores I was forced to do compared to my little brother. He is only two years younger than me but has always been the golden child, being a boy. Once I turned 16 I decided I wanted information about my father and I knew, by law, I am entitled to know at least his name. However, my mother thought differently and only told me he gave me up before I was born. The rest of my family think that my mom has no idea who my father is, there is also the illusion that my brother's father is also mine. My brother and I had a paternal DNA test done and proved we are not paternally related, only maternally. All I have ever asked is for his name since I was very small. Now, at the age of 27, it is no longer my priority to find him. If he knew how to find me and found me then I would give him that chance.
By Sydni Kasem8 years ago in Families
Living in Silence
Imagine for a moment, you ask your 2 year-old to say Apple or Mommy. Son, would you like some More Wah-Ter? Say Plee-ease. Now imagine that you won't hear him say these words until he is almost 5 years old. He is quiet and will often not engage in eye contact for fear of being spoken to and to have to reciprocate. Not even a simple Hello. How long had I waited for him to say Mommy or say that he loves me too.
By Christine Holden8 years ago in Families
