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?!”

Why does anyone else care what Elon Musk does with his money?
Our media consumption devices are slowly eating the real world
The biggest question a human faces is how to live a good life
Proposals to skip rent payments are rooted in magical thinking
What if people don’t really care about understanding each other?
The Alien Observer: I’m not going to change — and you’re not, either
Time and maturity have changed
Not having someone to hope for differs from pain of missing love