Oh I'm sure there's lots I don't remember too, BirdDancer.

And I am sure much of it relates to the badness of my childhood. I thought I was adopted for many years because my sister and I were treated so differently, and i was a target for both my mom and dad to take out their unhappiness and frustration.

I think this bad feeling that either gets turned inward or outward [or both] comes from that early dehumanization. I was born into a hostile world. To me this seems like the origin of all the badness. There's also the possibility that my father is a sociopath and I inherited some tendencies to be antisocial.

Each post here has given me something to meditate on and come to terms with my grief. It's a difficult subject to write about and takes some time to really digest. I like the suggestion to write it down and then destroy the document. There are things I would not confess to any living soul.

Sometimes, when it is too much, I try to focus on what I am grateful for. I still can provide a home for my son. That is the big thing.