Vintage Harley Davidson Badge
1930 Harley Davidson Model R
1948 Harley Davidson Panhead
1910 Harley Davidson Ad
Harley Davidson Panhead Police Bike (year unknown)
Wellington Motorcycles Marisa Miller Poster
1956 Harley FL Panhead Custom
1950 Harley FL Shovel
A Bipolar Journey Through The Rabbit Hole 
I like motorcycles too. Long forks as well. They are harder to turn with and I really never got good enough to have a passenger but I do like to ride as diver and passenger.
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I have had a love of motorcycles, especially Harley’s, since I was very little. My Dad had a bike, and I loved riding with him. Unfortunately, I have not learned to ride myself, but I will before I die.
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Maybe your medical choice is buying one and learning. That is the kind of medical coming your way soon. Self choice. If it works, progresses you, then it’s good medical.
I grew up in Los Angeles, ran away and rode with a lot of bikers. Hung with some too. They don’t generally demand just say non-verbally participate and it’s cool. I have fond memories of the bikers I rode and spent time with when I was young. This is a great all American attitude. The best thing about hem. Not many are like this, but they will be.
“We the People” will demand it.
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One of the greatest loves of my life is a long time biker. He was one of those that didn’t say much verbally (although he talked to me a lot), but was more non-verbal. He was my “rock” for many years. He was somewhat older than me, and he just knew how to take care of me. Nothing about me could faze him. Not even in my “crazy” moments did he ever waver. And, I too, have very fond memories of the bikers and hippies and Dead Heads I used to run with. I met a lot of really cool people when I was younger who had a really cool attitude about Freedom. To me they were the most free people I think I have ever met. Rebels, yes, but mentally free. And, at that time in my life, I needed that sense of freedom from society. I had been battered and bruised by my young life, and just really needed to be left alone to do as I pleased (as long as it did not harm anyone else). I needed that sense of not being part of mainstream society, but part of something much more abstract; people who were free in their minds and their thoughts.
I think having a motorcycle would be great therapy. I have always enjoyed just going nowhere in my car just for the sake of driving, but a motorcycle would be much better.
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So you test people, get attention using crazy outbursts. Well as long as it doesn’t hurt others, enjoy your responses.
One thing is for sure, if you got attention young in the form of abuse, that is a past you can’t bring back unless you want others to suffer it too. The one that will suffer more is a lack of response you are really looking for.
I was abused but I also got attention, not much from a single mom. I just put the abuse behind me not letting it win by overpowering my decisions and remember the good things to carry on. We all learn from the attention we receive when we are young. It all teaches us what we need to do for a response we like in all future dealings we have with all people as we get older and more experienced in life.
Abusive, crazy outbursts just don”t work with me. If I see something else worth keeping around me I ignore them and move on. Keep this way of asking for attention in the end just gets you told F..Off.
Pretty self defeating if you are looking for attention. Behavior health. Outburst with most of my time instead of constructive partners ships in learning, developing, go write a book. Some drama junkie may buy it. If I get time I may even read it.
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It is definitely not a person I like when it happens. It is something that I work on daily. You are right that if abuse is the only way a person gets attention when they are young, they will probably repeat that pattern unless they see it, and take action to stop it.
No, what I meant about my biker is that he has seen it, done it, heard it all, so if I had a bad mood day, it didn’t really throw him for a loop. He had probably seen worse behavior in his friends.
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