You know, an eye doctor once told me that half of my tear ducts are blocked and that's why my eyes are always dry. You'd never guess it over the last couple days. ;-)

Angela, I love hugs, but nobody can ever give me enough to feel better. But I appreciate yours.

My son is the most precious, beautiful, perfect thing in my world and I would do anything to protect him. He has been raised by people who have affirmed him at every step and he is happy and self-confident, and I fall all over myself thanking them every time I write that they have given him such a wonderful life. I *KNOW* there is nothing inherently bad about him. I knew when I held him for the first time how precious and wonderful he was, and what a gift from God.

But, I can't get there for myself.

I was an "oops." My sibs are 8, 10, 12 and 13 years older than me. My mother looooves to tell people that she was going to take up golf when she was 35, but got pregnant instead (that would be me). She thinks it's funny as hell. Since I've been old enough to object, I've been objecting, and she tells I'm too sensitive. She also likes to tell me how she complained to her mother (my grandma, who I didn't know very well) about being pregnant again, and my grandma told her I would be her angel. Sure didn't get treated like one of those, either.

I don't even want to get into the stuff about the "other" abuse, the mental and verbal was bad enough, but you listen to that enough and eventually you get to be middle-aged and thinking you're a worthless, rotten piece of *****. Gregory regularly tells me that even of just the little I've told him of the abuse, it horrifies him and he gives me all kinds of credit for still being alive and having accomplished as much as I have (which to me is zero). I guess I just don't think it was that bad because to me, that's what normal was. I don't like the result, but I didn't know any better.

I should probably just go to bed. Like I told Gregory, tomorrow is another day. You're sweet to care about me -- thank you.

Candy