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?!”

NOTEBOOK: Simplistic storytelling on TV news pushing nation to war
What’s at the root of objections to real freedom? Paternalism
There are times we need to quit; what do you need to quit today?
Suppressing speech you don’t like is a lousy way to encourage tolerance
I’ve always done my best work when I’m allowed to fix things
Happy birthday to the monkeys; we’re marking two years today
Would you be glad or ashamed if others could read your thoughts?
Creative process isn’t pretty, but it provides real joy when it works