I have, in the past, revealed just a little bit my unhappiness about a couple of things that happened in my childhood that relates to them. They totally dismissed it. They said they couldn't think of anything from my childhood that would have caused me problems, and that my serious clinical depression was just my hormones.

When I lost 26 pounds during my depression and was put in the hospital, they completely ignored it. They never even mentioned knowing about it, didn't ask why i was depressed, or even offer to help in any way. Just acted like it wasn't happening.

That's what i remember about my childhood. When i was hurting or confused or even in danger, nobody noticed, nobody said anything, or did anything.

Even so, there's a part of me today that keeps waiting for them to show that they really, truly care about me.

I just hate to see it, admit it, feel it.