I am first generation italian-american. If the world hasn't ended and lightning hasn't struck for what I've done, trust me, you're safe. I know that doesn't make you feel any better, but you will if you give it time. Some days I sit in my therapist's office and just thank him for my freedom. But yeah - every sunday morning is still scary. I just pray she'll leave me alone, and once the clock moves past noon, I start to feel safer.

I think she scared the heck out of me somehow when I was really little, because I have always been afraid to cross her. I was an unusually good child, I think, but just out of fear. That's not real character, that's empty. There are little stories, little memories I have, where I find myself thinking, oh she's not gonna like that - and I wonder what the genesis of that feeling is, because it sounds like a voice from beyond!

P.s. one t told me it had nothing to do with being italian!!