When my dad had his stroke, i saw that he could only improve so far, and that my mother was not going to be happy with that limited improvement. Her expectation was the problem, not his ability. His ability was fact.

Then i started looking at how they had treated me in a different light. The broken typewriter for a graduation gift, the broken sewing machine for a wedding gift - both bought on sale, both unreturnable, both virtually unusable. Junk. They saw me as junk. It took me over 30 years to accept that they saw me as junk. Are THEY broken, or am i?

I didnt deserve that. I still dont know why they treated me that way. You dont deserve it either. Stop looking for different from them. It just isnt there. It isnt right, but it isnt there.

Appreciation is overrated. Van Gogh died penniless, right?