Early in 2009, I entered a deep depression which kept me in a funk off and on for several years. I was miserable — and I was desperate to figure out why I had been sabotaging my life.
I was forced to confront hidden flaws about myself that I hated. I had to dig into the toxic past of my dysfunctional family. I had to uncover things about myself that I had learned from my narcissistic father. I had to ask myself whether I was going to keep going down that path — or make serious changes while I still could. I knew I had to heal my broken psyche if I wanted love.
And through it all, I kept asking myself, “What is wrong with me?!”

Art, culture are keys to winning the future for freedom of choice
Tribal hatreds around me mean detour on road to personal peace
Watching kids on a Friday night reminds me of struggle to belong
Father who I saw as Mr. Morality turned out to be a liar and a thief
Flawed bricks can build our lives, because perfection never arrives
This news just in: Aging drug warrior Bill Bennett is still an idiot
As we enjoyed the sunset together, language and borders didn’t matter
To see how I’ve changed over time, notice which women I’ve fallen for