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This is not the book for you if your name is Stephen King, and there are two Stephen Kings alive, because this is probably the most depressing horror novel youll ever read. If you are a Stephen King fan, this isnt the book for you. If youre looking for a book that will entertain, this is not the book for you. If youre a fan of any of the Stephen King books, or any Stephen King books youll probably like this book. But I cant recommend this book to anyone except those who are already pretty much willing to put aside their feelings about the Stephen King character in the first place. In my family I have been known as the sick one. I was born with the debilitating illness that I now know as Huntingtons disease, an incredibly rare degenerative neurodegenerative disorder of the brain and central nervous system. My Dad would often look forward to the upcoming day before my fifth birthday so he could visit me. I remember the day he came on board the Airlander 10 to take me to my first ever party, my first time at a rock concert and to my first high school reunion. Which meant it was the first time I experienced life outside of the house where I was born. For as rare as my disease is, it isnt life threatening. I have limited movement and am severely mentally exhausted. For me, the most challenging aspect is constantly having to convince others that I am OK, that I like life, that Im not broken and can be loved. My Dad doesnt love me, my Grandma doesnt love me and in many cases they are right not to. But despite this lack of love, I still need them to validate my existence. I need them to love me because without that validation, I have a hard time actually doing anything, let alone live. I have learned to cope in a number of different ways, most of which involve alcohol. I drink in order to put myself in a state of euphoria. I drink in order to numb myself emotionally to the struggles I face everyday. My family and I havent had a drink in years. Ive only had one in my life. My mom has only made one or two for me. My Dad hasnt had one for several years. The day he did for me was the worst day of my life. He came in my room at 10:30 p. Im pretty sure my Dad wasnt going to be able to sleep anyway, but I still woke up crying because I knew he couldnt. He wouldnt make me leave the house.

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