Thanks for the support guys, made me cry.]

PFrog, I'm sorry if my post triggered you. And apologies to anyone I did not mean to hurt or trigger anybody. PFrog- I grew up in an alcoholic home. Luckily I was never severly abused. But I was shown an unhealthy model of what a family looks like. Do I judge my mother for loving my father and trying to keep her family together? No because she loves me and she's a great mom. Both of my ex's are alcoholics, I go to Alanon now. My dad was bipolar, so was his mother and she took her own life, tragically. My children mean everything to me, and I am everything to them because their fathers are not able to be there for them. I don't have family around to help me. I have a full time job, and I'm raising my beautiful, bipolar family on my own without state assistance or child support. (nothing wrong with getting state assistance - just trying to open up and show you who I am)

I am not a materialistic person, far from it. I've been through a lot with my son, and forgive him for his mistakes during mania. I'm not sure how you are with your children, or if you have children, or if you know what it's like to raise a severely bipolar teenage baby boy who's also abusing any drug he can get his hands on. I don't know if you've had to sit at hospitals with your children, praying... that they are going to make it. I've been through too much for material items to mean more to me than a life. I'm also just not that way naturally. A guitar meaning more to me than my child or any child or any animal, that's just silly. Guitar is a fabulously therapeutic instrument. Healthy and healing music for me and my family.

I can tell you're hurting PFrog, and that things went wrong for you as a child. We're all willing to be here for you and listen if you want to open up. I'm sorry you're hurting, and that reading my story turned into something all about you.

When I started writing, I thought I would share the random phone call I got that a stranger actually wanted to return something stolen to me. And how cool that was, how cool that she painted the word LOVE on it, random kindness from a stranger, someone doing the right thing! It was a small mysterious miracle to me.

I thought at first I may just say I had a bad day, but that an interesting thing happened out of the blue that gave me some hope. But I started writing, typing and the whole story spilled out, and I guess I needed to get it out. It is healing, like journalling. It's not easy for me to say when I'm hurting. So thank you for listening.