My Journey With:

Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS) ~ Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS) ~ Focal Impaired Awareness (Complex Partial) Seizures ~ Fibromyalgia ~ Chronic Myofascial Pain (CMP) ~ Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) ~ TMJ Dysfunction ~ Bipolar Disorder Type I Rapid Cycling With Psychotic Features ~ Migraines ~ Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease (GERD) ~ Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) ~ Keratosis Pilaris (KP) ~ Complex-Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) ~ Panic Disorder ~ Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) ~ Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) ~ Nonsuicidal Self-Injury (Self-Harm) ~ Piezogenic Pedal Papules ~ Hashimoto's Thyroiditis ~ Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) ~ Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) ~ Specific Phobias ~ Chronic Daily Headache ~ High Cholesterol

Monday, November 19, 2018

5 Great Charities To Give To For #GivingTuesday, and 3 Not To

Good Places To Donate:

1. Crisis Text Line

Donate to Crisis Text Line #GivingTuesday
Donate to Crisis Text Line

The Crisis Text Line is a great program that I've taken advantage of. The trained people on the other end of the texts are very helpful. If you donate to this charity, you may be saving a lot of lives.

2. RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network)

RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) needs your donations #GivingTuesday
Donate to RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network)

RAINN is there for people who have experienced rape, abuse, and/or incest. They do great work to help people, including a hotline you can call at

3. Your local domestic violence shelter

Donate to your local domestic violence shelter
Donate to your local domestic violence shelter

Help people in your own community by donating time, items, or money to your local domestic violence shelter.

4. Your local homeless shelter

Donate to your local homeless shelter
Donate to your local homeless shelter

Again, this is a great way to help people in your own community. You could provide items they need, money, or donate your time.

5. Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Donate to National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Donate to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline and save a life today!

Don't Donate To These Organizations:

1. Focus on the Family and Family Research Council
Avoid donations to the Hate Group Family Research Council
Don't donate to the Hate Group Family Research Council
Don't donate to the Hate Group Focus On The Family
Don't donate to the Hate Group Focus On The Family

Focus on the Family is a part of the Family Research Council. They have donated thousands of dollars toward fighting against LGBTQ+ people's rights.

2. Kids Wish Network

Don't donate to the bogus "charity" Kids Wish Network
Don't donate to the bogus "charity" Kids Wish Network

Kids Wish Network has been in the news a lot in recent years for donating any money to children but instead lining their own pocketbooks.

3. American Breast Cancer Foundation

Don't donate to the bogus "charity" American Breast Cancer Foundation
Don't donate to the bogus "charity" American Breast Cancer Foundation

This charity is completely bogus. Money donated to the American Breast Cancer Foundation goes straight into the pockets of the rich, and none of it goes to help breast cancer victims or prevent it.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018



Anxiety is a weight inside you
It's pressing, pulsing, and alive
More alive than you are
Depression is a deep blackness
Craving the fire inside to restart
You blow on the kindling
Burn, burn, burn
So you can rise again

Friday, September 21, 2018

I had a lot of dreams last sleep

I dreamed that I met one of my Facebook friends in person. We were sitting across a table from each other. I said, "I hate cops." Then he said "ACAB," (All Cops Are Bastards) and showed me his tattoo. I have no clue what that dream was about. I don't like cops in general, but I don't think they're all crooked. 

I also dreamed that Niki died, it was horrible. I dream about her death a lot. 

Photo of me

I also dreamed I was kidnapped and raped, but I dream that nearly every night so that's nothing unusual. That's just a normal dream.

In another dream, I was sold into sex slavery and was confined to the hull of a huge ship that looked like an old slave trade ship. I've been having that dream a lot in the last few weeks. The ship is always on the hill you turn off onto on AA Highway on the way to my grandparents' house was in my hometown. I hated my Grandma until the day she died, and still hate her. I hated my Grandpa until he was an old man and quit being an abusive asshole. Grandpa was a good man when he passed away and had been for awhile. However, I associate that hill with the dread of driving past their house. I used to get this sick feeling in my stomach every time we passed that hill.

Photo credit: Matt Van der Velde

I also dreamed I snuck into a McDonald's meat processing plant and rode the conveyer belt with fresh hamburger on it. I could smell beef blood everywhere, it was disgusting. I rode it into a cave where I jumped off into a river. I've been having dreams for months about jumping into rivers in caves. I can't figure out what that means. It is showing up so often in my dreams it has to symbolize something to my unconscious mind.

In the last dream that I remember, I dreamed someone stole my Harry Potter books, which is practically a death penalty offense. I keep dreaming about people stealing my books, or putting my books in the river.

My mind NEVER turns off!

Monday, August 20, 2018

Bullsh*t doesn't get the taste of saccharine out of your mouth

I could stay in contact with everyone online from my bed. I could use pillows to try to get comfy typing a blog from bed. However, I can't be with the kitties (unless they happen to be in bed with me) and I can't be with DH (Darling Husband) without getting out of bed. That's why I get out of bed every day. If it wasn't for DH and the kitties, I think I'd just stay in bed all day.

I can't stop the inner voice from being negative. When I say that inner voice, I'm talking about the internal monolog or self-talk we all have. I don't have any control over it when I'm depressed, it overrides any attempted positive self-talk. If I try and turn my inner monolog into something positive, nothing comes of it, because inside me I know it's all bullshit. Knowing it's all bullshit overrides any cheery saccharin cliché positives learned in therapy to tell myself.

It's only two more days before I can see my therapist again. I've been having a hard time verbally describing how I feel lately, especially the deeper things. It's almost as if the part of my brain that can write about complicated deep things is still free, but the part of my brain that controls talking about that stuff has a lock on it. So I'm not sure how much therapy will be helpful, but I'm trying to keep an open mind.

I finished a book last night I really enjoyed. I loved the ending. I loved the rest of the book, too. It was a coming of age LGBTQ+ book about a bisexual teen girl who falls in love with another teenage girl. It was really sweet. I usually don't read YA books, but this is the second YA book I've read recently that I absolutely loved. The other book was a horror book and the first in a series.

I wrote my mom a letter today. I will try to get it out in the mail tomorrow. It turned out longer than I expected, but my hands were in great pain and I had to rest them for a while before I could return to my computer.

It's getting's already after midnight. I think I'll go to bed soon. I took a melatonin last night and still couldn't sleep. Tonight if I can't sleep I think I'll try three Benedryl. I'm so frustrated.

Saturday, August 18, 2018

19 years and two and a half hours ago

Last night while I was getting undressed, and DH (Darling Husband) lay sleeping in bed, I had a sudden realization. On my sister's birthday on August 14th, 2000 I was really manic, but not yet diagnosed with bipolar. I had just come home from a friend's wedding the day before. I wanted to leave, as I said, I was very manic, but I stayed home with my sister that day. The next day I met rapist #2. Two days after that I met him for the second time and he raped me. That means that it happened on August 17th, 2000. I previously hadn't been able to remember the date but knew it happened around midnight that night. I made this realization yesterday, on August 17th, 2018 at 2:30 am. I realized it had been 19 years and two and a half hours ago that it happened.

I started shaking uncontrollably and sobbing hard. I was surprised DH didn't wake up. I know I could have woken him, but I really didn't want to, as he really needed his sleep. I know that he will probably be frustrated when he finds out I didn't wake him, as I know he would have wanted me to wake him, but he was finally getting some sleep and I just couldn't bring myself to wake him.

I cried so, so much for such a long time; heartwrenching sobs. I had flashbacks and cried off and on until 6:30 am when I finally fell asleep. Niki heard me cry when I first started, and she ran into the bedroom. She climbed up next to me on the bed and purred. When I finally laid down, she crawled on top of me, purring and giving me kitty head bumps. Eventually, my pain started getting really bad from the release of stress hormones in my body. It's like Niki somehow knew that my pain was getting worse, so she climbed off me and lay down on my pillow next to me. She purred next to my head while I cried, and when my sobbing would slow she'd fall asleep and snore lightly. When I started up sobbing again, she'd press her body against my head and shoulders and purr. Katya also was on top of me, on my legs. At first it was wonderful. Once the pain got really, really bad, though, I tried gently pushing her off. After I pushed her off eleven times I finally let her stay. The pain was excruciating, but it was obvious that she really, really wanted to lay on my thigh and I didn't have a choice about it. I don't love Katya less than Niki, I loved her laying on me, too, until the pain got to flare levels. (It wasn't a flare, however, because a flare must last at least 24 hours.)

DH started waking up, but by then my tears had finally dried up and I was quiet. I gave him a melatonin last night because he just so desperately needed sleep.

Niki helped me get through the night, I think I would have lost it without her. I definitely would have had to wake DH, and I'm very, very worried about his health. Since DH hasn't been sleeping hardly at all, I think it's really making his already poor health worse. As my longtime readers know, DH is disabled as well.

I prayed the Rosary a lot last night. I couldn't remember the Mysteries, I've always had trouble memorizing them, even when I used to pray the Rosary daily. So instead, I imagined the Blessed Virgin Mary in the air above the foot of the bed, her hands clasped in prayer, snakes at her feet, and a blue light emanating from her and lighting up the bedroom. I concentrated on that, and my Niki next to me, and I was able to get through the night. I also concentrated on feeling the love I know DH has for me, as he lay next to me sleeping.

It was a really rough night, but I made it through, and I'm really proud of myself for that.

Friday, August 17, 2018

The clouds moving in

Last night I took a melatonin pill and it helped me get a nice ten hours of sleep. I haven't been sleeping enough at night, so I'm sleepier during the day than normal. I already have a lot of daytime sleepiness, from a combination of my poor health, unrestful sleep, and meds. It helped my mood tremendously, though I'm still very, very fatigued. Then when the sun went down my depression moved back in, like foul black clouds moving to cover the moon.

Thursday, August 16, 2018

With nothing under my feet

Trigger Warning: suicide, self-harm
I hate what mental illness does to my brain so much. Since I've been thirteen I've dealt with suicidal thoughts and self-harm. My bipolar began with a three-year depressive episode that started when I was ten, and I had my first manic episode very shortly after turning fourteen. I don't even remember anymore how old I was both times I attempted suicide. I'm sure if you're curious I mention the age I was somewhere in another blog entry. Right now my brain is fuzzy and I can't remember.

In the past three years, I've spent many a night crying and fighting the urge to act on swallowing a bottle of mouthwash, bleach, all my meds, or ending it with a beautiful scarf. I'm not suicidal right now. I haven't been for quite a while. But my mind, since I was thirteen, constantly makes note of the nearest sharp objects, and the nearest items I could kill myself on. I don't have to be suicidal, I don't have to be in an episode. I don't have to want to cut. My brain just automatically constantly notices these things. It's so second nature, it's not something I try to do. It just happens. It's constant and I hate it.

I've gone forty-one days without self-harm. I'm very proud of this. My mind is still on it all the time, though it gets easier to say no to the urges the longer I go without cutting. There are triggers everywhere. I feel like an addict, I think about it all the time. Sometimes the thoughts are unwanted, other times I crave it so much, but I know it's just not a good thing to do. It's a bad coping mechanism. So I fight it, I have to. I fight it constantly.

It's when I'm by alone that I cry, shake, and express how I really feel on the outside when I don't have to be strong for anyone, I can turn into the quivering and crying mess I am inside. I'm able to get in touch with my actual feelings and face them when I'm alone. When people are around I have to appear strong, I have to laugh, I have to try and look like I'm paying attention to what they're saying while in my head I'm drawing a box cutter slowly down my legs and beautiful red blood is spilling everywhere, sticky, warm, and gorgeous. It only makes the draw toward cutting worse knowing how low the chance is from bleeding out if you cut in the right areas, but it is hard to control sometimes once you start, so there lies the danger, as well as the danger of infection. That's not even mentioning unsightly scars.

This is the sixth day in a row I've been depressed, but these six days have felt more like six months. I can feel myself sliding downward, but I'm completely down yet. For it to qualify as a depressive episode in someone with bipolar, you need to have depression for two weeks. Hopefully, I can kick this before it turns into an episode. In general, I usually get hit with a depressive episode that starts sometime between September and November that usually goes away in March or April. By Thanksgiving, I'm usually fighting suicidal feelings. However, I still love Thanksgiving, though there have been two of the last ten years I stayed in bed nearly all day because I was so severely depressed I physically couldn't get out of bed. I've been feeling very anti-social, angry, and very irritable lately. My pain levels have been very high, and my fatigue horrible. That doesn't help my depression any.

From the movie Don't Kill It
I recently watched a B horror flick called Don't Kill It. (Spoilers following.) In it, a demon takes possession of people's bodies. When the demon takes possession, their eyes turn all black and they let out a guttural scream, before killing everyone in sight. In the end, instead of killing other people, one person gets possessed and while floating in the air, she throws back her head and lets loose the sounds of Hell, before the grenade she's holding explodes, and her body parts fly everywhere. I feel like I'm that last person. I don't feel possessed, rather I feel like if I don't keep a tight lid on everything I'm going to float up into the air, throw back my head, let loose the throaty, guttural, howls from the bowels of despair, and explode, with my body parts flying everywhere.

I feel like there's more to say, but I'll stop here.

Saturday, August 11, 2018

Why I still listen to the album that was on when I was raped

Trigger Warning: Rape

I still listen to the album that was on the second time the first guy raped me. It was Sublime's self-titled album, which came out in 1996. It was his CD, and later I bought a copy from Blockbuster. My dad took me. I didn't want the edited version from Wal-Mart, so I told my dad they didn't have any copies at Wal-Mart, since the CDs at Blockbuster were unedited. I still hate songs that have words blanked out, because it messes with the whole rhythm of the song. I went into the store, carried out my newly purchased CD in a plastic white and blue Blockbuster bag. As soon as I got home I put stickers over the part that said "Parental Advisory" so when my parents made their frequent checks through my music to weed out "immoral" music, they wouldn't throw it away. I'm not sure, but the CD might still be packed up and in the garage. 
I don't know why I still listen to it. I like the music, though it never occurred to me that one song "Wrong Way" on the album is actually about child prostitution, for years I'd sung the song without thinking about what it actually meant. So that one song I don't listen to anymore, though I listen to the rest of the album. The of the album actually makes me happy in a way.

I'm sure a lot of people would never want to listen to the album that was on while they were raped ever again. However, as hard as it is to explain, I felt like that was the only good thing that happened that day. It was my respite in the face of trauma. I listen to this album and feel like I am a survivor. I have survived what happened to me, and in the face of that trauma there was a safeness, a form of shelter from the awful things happening, and that was Sublime. 

Thursday, July 26, 2018

When The Lights Go Out

"When The Lights Go Out"

Inside there's a lump of charcoal
Throughout my bloodstream flow the ashy remains 
Of the fire that once burned within me
Dim lighting in a bright room
Enclosed in my beige-walled prison
My body traumatized by the attack of pain
My soul crumbles like dust
Thinking about hopes and dreams
Leaves me with a stack of bitter regrets
With the taste of rotted meat on my tongue
I'm tired of smiling and laughing
Like myself, pieces of glass are shattered

This poem in no way is meant to glorify mental illness. I've struggled with mental illness for my entire life. If you are struggling, please know there is help out there. For many people, mental illness is best managed with medication, therapy, and lifestyle changes, like getting the right amount of nutrients and exercise. Complementary medicine also helps some people. Complementary medicine can be aromatherapy, light therapy, acupuncture, reflexology, meditation, biofeedback, massage therapy, among many other treatments available to people who may benefit from them. Unfortunately, complementary medicine is rarely covered by insurance.

If you are in crisis, text the Crisis Text Line to talk to trained counselors about what's on your mind. text "HOME” to 741741. It's free, available 24/7, and confidential.

If you feel like suicide, please know that you are important. Chat online at

The National Suicide Prevention Hotline number is 1-800-273-8255 or go to

Call 1-800-656-4673 or live chat with RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) if you need to talk. Visit for a live chat.

I can vouch for the Text Crisis Text Line, as I've used it twice, and the RAINN chat online, as I've used it three times.

Suicide hotlines for other countries can be found here.

Thursday, March 1, 2018

"melody," a poem

This poem is about self-harm, something I've struggled with for 23 years (24 years in October 2018). I in NO WAY want to glamorize self-harm. It's a horrible thing I wish more than anything that I'd never started doing, and can lead to nerve damage, infection, permanent muscle damage, and even too much blood loss to the point of accidental death. Self-harm is caused by mental illness, but is an addictive behavior, similar to gambling addiction. For people who have self-harmed for many years the addiction is as bad as a heroin addiction. It has ruined so many aspects of my life, and destroyed my self-esteem and self-confidence. I'm only posting this poem to help others realize what it feels like to feel the need to self-harm. I must stress, this is a poem about self-harm, and I don't recommend anyone who is triggered by self-harm to read it. I want people who don't understand what it's like to need to self-harm, especially people who have been self-harming for years. It's just a peek inside my head. This was written in June 2017.


oh god i missed this
endorphins surfing my brain waves
my fingers red and sticky
i pull at either side of the cut,
eager to make more precious liquid come out
right now i don’t care if i scar,
or what a disgusting freak i am
instead they whisper to me that they love me
they lie and say i’m special and deserve
more red badges of courage
it’s the only time I feel with all of me,
it’s the only time that peaceful melody plays

If you feel like you're in crisis, please get help. Text the Crisis Text Line to talk to trained counselors about what's on your mind. text “HOME” to 741741 Free, 24/7, Confidential. If you feel suicidal, chat online at The National Suicide Prevention Hotline number is 1-800-273-8255 or go to

Thursday, February 15, 2018

“Blowflies,” A Poem

I wrote this in June 2017 when I was very suicidal. I am no longer suicidal, but I wanted to share this poem. Please understand, this poem is about suicide, so if that's a trigger for you, you may need to stop reading here.

In no way do I mean to "glorify" or "romanticize" suicide. Suicide is a horrible thing. I've struggled with suicidal thoughts for most of my life and have had two failed attempts. I'm so thankful I'm alive. I just want others to understand what it feels like to be suicidal or have suicidal ideation and what those that do have these thoughts that when you reach bottom the only way to go is up. Things get better!


I know it’s just a matter of time
Until they find my corpse
Rigor mortis in a fetal position
Covered in a bloody sheet
Dried and stuck to my body
I just hope I don’t rot first
I fucking hate blowflies

Amy B

If you feel suicidal, please get help. Text the Crisis Text Line to talk to trained counselors about what's on your mind. text “HOME” to 741741 Free, 24/7, Confidential. If you feel suicidal, chat online at The National Suicide Prevention Hotline number is 1-800-273-8255 or go to

Monday, January 1, 2018

2017 Year In Review


January 1st, 2017 was the start to a new year, and an end to 2016, which was a horrible year for us. The year of 2017 was just as bad, if not worse. For New Year's Dinner we had lamb and roast potatoes. It was the first time I'd ever eaten lamb. I liked it, but only ate about a third of it. It tastes better than beef, I understand why lamb is so popular around the world. I was still in a depressive episode that began in December 2015. My mom's dog Lady passed away. She was a beautiful, sweet, loveable Boston Terrier that was my mom's baby. Donald J. Trump was sworn in for President and Mike Pence was sworn in as Vice-President. The last two days of the month I was in a pain flare.


Lamb and roast potatoes
Lamb and roast potatoes


The first day of February was full of cramps and depression. I was still in the depressive episode in February. The second day of February was Imbolc, a religious holiday I celebrate. I had my first seizure of the year on February fifth. I had a POTS flare, and there was a lunar eclipse on the 10th and 11th. I had a five day pain flare, and there was a solar eclipse on the 26th. Daddy had a birthday and turned 63. Toward the end of the month I struggled with paranoia and psychosis.

Wearing a headband from my friend LP
Wearing a headband from my friend LP

A petal that fell off the Valentine's Day rose DH got me
A petal that fell off the Valentine's Day rose DH got me


My depressive episode was still sticking around in March. I started the first three days of the month in a pain flare. I had two more pain flares, and four POTS flares. It was a very rough month financially. The 30th was World Bipolar Day, and March was Self-Harm Awareness Month. Doing my adult coloring books and printouts I made of coloring book pages for anxiety relief on the days my hand pain wasn't too bad. I also celebrated Ostara.

In my favorite Woodstock tie-dye T-shirt
In my favorite Woodstock tie-dye T-shirt

Katya and Niki sleeping in a box
Katya and Niki sleeping in a box


April brought two pain flares and the end of that depressive episode. By the end of the month I started another depressive episode. Things got much worse financially. My OCD symptoms started coming back more. April was Sexual Assault Awareness Month. I celebrated Easter with chocolate.

Me. Hello!

DH giving kisses to Katya behind my head
DH giving kisses to Katya behind my head


May first was both Beltane and International Workers' Day. I wore green glitter on Star Wars Day, May the 5th, for Carrie Fisher. I chose green because green is the color for both mental health awareness and bipolar awareness. May was Ehlers-Danlos syndromes Awareness Month and Mental Health Awareness Month. I was still in a depressive episode. I cried all day on Mother's Day because I was scared I'll never be a Mommy. The 12th of May was Fibromyalgia Awareness Day. I think it deserves a month long awareness campaign, not just one day a year. I ended the month starting a TMJ Dysfunction flare that lasted in to June, for a total of eleven days. I couldn't eat solid food and lived off of chocolate malt shakes because I couldn't chew and had a hard time getting enough calories without chewing. Stress was high because of our health and finances. OCD symptoms continue to appear here and there.

Wearing glitter for Carrie Fisher on May the 5th, Star Wars Day
Wearing glitter for Carrie Fisher on May the 5th, Star Wars Day

My red puppy dog scarf with pugs on it
My red puppy dog scarf with pugs on it


National Pen Pal Day was June 1st. I planned on sending cards to m pen pals, but I've been horrible lately, and haven't got many pen pal letters out in 2017. Of course, since my moods are massively out of control it makes it hard. I realize I get irresponsible when I'm having a bipolar episode. I turned 36 and within a month my hair went gray around my face. My birthday was on the one year anniversary of the shooting at Pulse. My birthday was also the World Day Against Child Labor and National Peanut Butter Cookie Day. I didn't get a peanut butter cookie on my birthday, though. I also got a new therapist, which is always a hard thing to do.

Just me
Just me

Niki and Katya cuddling
Niki and Katya cuddling


In mid-July my depressive episode ended. DH had a back injury helping a friend. I had a POTS flare and a pain flare. I continued seeing my therapist and I was starting to feel she might be someone I could trust. I decided that I could use a zebra hardcover notebook to keep therapy notes I take during therapy and home. It made it a lot easier to keep track of what I'm learning in therapy and how far I've come.

I remind myself everyday that I'm AL;VE
I remind myself every day that I'm AL;VE



In August we celebrated Lammas/Lughnasadh, a holiday in my religion that marks the beginning of the harvest season. I saw the Full Solar Eclipse on August 21st. I had two tonic-clonic seizures in my therapist's office late in the month. My cousin mailed me some of her homemade soap to try and I loved it. She is the only cousin I am in contact with.


Making faces after a shower
Making faces after a shower


I entered another depressive episode and started out the month of September very suicidal. I started talking to my best friend and chosen sister again, after not doing so for a long time. I was so happy to have her back in my life as she is my very best friend. Mid-September I came close to attempting suicide, scrawling on myself "Ashes Don't Have Debts." I had a horrid time with self-injury. I ended the month of September with an episode of psychoisis.

Pain and depression
Pain and depression

Pain and depression
Pain and depression


I began October with a TMJ flare. My bipolar psychosis was very bad most of the month. I got a mild cold, but recovered fairly quickly. Jim and I celebrated Samhain together on the 31st.

The view from my front porch
The view from my front porch

Halloween night
Halloween night


My depressive episode ended mid-November. I entered a mixed episode late November. I started exercising again. I saw my parents for Thanksgiving and had a seizure at the Thanksgiving table, which made me feel really guilty.

A Catholic Cathedral in mid-Missouri
A Catholic Cathedral in mid-Missouri

The Missouri State Capital Building in Jefferson City
The Missouri State Capital Building in Jefferson City


In mid-December my mixed episode ended, and I was able to celebrate Christmas without depression or mania. We changed cable companies, but we had already exchanged gifts with my parents at Thanksgiving, so it felt weird not having theirs to open on Christmas morning. I was happy with my present from Jim, a smart phone.


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