Wendy, thank you for the kind words. The combination of the physical pain and the depression that I have been fighting is a lethal one.

My son may view me as more than a paycheck, but I know my husband doesn't. A pack of cigs come before me. I called my T because he was genuinely worried about me - he had tears in his eyes last time I saw him. It surprised me and shocked me that someone could actually care about "me" and not the image that is shown to the world.

No one else has ever really been there for me and I am so afraid that my neediness will drive my T away also. I hate calling him and bothering him - I am constantly apologizing for it. Last time I saw him I gave him my razor because I was sitting in his waiting area cutting away at my thigh and my fingers. I didn't even care if someone saw me.

The people here understand, and for that I am grateful.

Mary Alice