Well made it though the weekend ok. Went to dinner with the ole man and some friends. Had a couple more drinks then I should have and then that puts me on a guilt trip. Why do I think I need to have a few drinks to feel good? Somehow it takes away the pain of not knowing who I really am. When I have had a couple of drinks my inhibitions become lowered and everyone around me loves to here me tell jokes and I am always the life of the party. Then comes tomorrow and the guilt and why cant I feel that way without alcohol.. Such a struggle. Sure am glad I never liked drugs with my addictive personality. Sunday was pay back day.. YARD WORK..Raked leaves and mowed a huge lawn. That morning my son and his fiance had us over for brunch and that was real nice. Nice to know that my oldest boy shows no signs of depression that I have been able to tell. My youngest is showing signs but says he is not depressed. He over eats and I think that is what feels his emptiness. I always tell him that he can tell me anything, I am always there for him..I am so happy that my kids have not had to have the childhood I had. An abusive step father and stepmother and then my mother never stepping up to the plate to help us children. I have forgiven my mother and the others but I have a hard time forgetting. I wish I could forget but it is always there in the backgroung. All I ever wanted was to be loved and I didnt think that was such a hard thing to ask for. My stepfather (Earl the Pearl) not only told my brother, sister and me how worthless we are he treated his two sons with my mother just as bad. I think the cops use to come to our house every weekend to pick Earl up and take him to the coffee shop and sober him up (yea right) and then bring him home. My mom would put us in her room and we would put all the furniture up to the door so that he could not get to us.. Very traumatic. I sometimes think my mom ratted us kids out so that Earl would punish us and leave her alone.If they had gone out for the night, they would come back at each others throats and for some reason go into the bathroom (like we couldnt hear them in there) I always thought that he would cut her throat with a razor and we were all very scared. In a way I think my mom would keep pushing him and pushing him until he would hit her. Not that they gave him any right but she always knew what the consequences were and kept going for it.Then ofcourse we would end up at one of my aunties houses until my mother would make up with the a-hole and then drag us kids right back down in the mud with her..Sorry for going off there, just thought I would share. Thank God I have not been that way with my children. I havent been the best mom but I admit to it and am trying my hardest now. My mother will never admit to anything.. She still thinks she was my room mother in high school... LOL..Enough said for now.. Peace and love to you all.. Y'Vonne