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?!”

‘What’s the worth of one warm smile? Go and ask the dead man’
Nature struggles to keep alive
City rushes to demolish $4.5 million transit station after only 13 years
Local politics isn’t a Frank Capra movie; it’s every man for himself
We already know what’s right, but we choose our lusts instead
What’s at the root of objections to real freedom? Paternalism
Dad who made space for daughter reminds me little moments matter
We like to think we’re complex, but personality gurus pegged me