Kind of a depressing story, but I thought I'd just share it with you guys...
For no reason btw... I'm a bit random
When I was 8... In January 2000, my mum had an accident that, according to the newspaper, only 5% would have survived. She was in the 5%. She did however lose half a lung and I only heard she had an accident, and couldn't see her for a week. Apparently a rib shot through an artery and stopped less than an inch away from her heart.
Anyway, after this happened, as a little child, I was traumatized in a way of that I was always afraid my mum would die somehow. A therapist said that when you are 8-10 years old you start to understand what death is, and that this happened right in that process causing this trauma.
Now I grew out of this, mostly...
Apart from when I think of death of someone who's important to me...
I mean, obviously anyone really can't stand thinking about that. It just seems I have that a bit more
That was random story time with Tim. Sorry for boring you
