I'm going to bed now. I got done some stuff that I have been putting off, so I guess that's good. I've still been feeling sad, though, because it hurts me to know that I am a disappointment to my family because of my problems. I wish I could just wave a magic wand and suddenly be normal and able to do all the things that I can't do right now. There are so many things that I hope to be able to do someday. Today I had to try to be satisfied with being able to balance my checkbook even though 2/3 of my daughters refused to speak to me today because I smoked cigarettes. I guess they would prefer that I go conventional and report to a shrink immediately and be stuffed with pills until my organs fail even though I still wouldn't be well or more 'normal'. And, if history is an indicator, I would still be a piece of shit, I would just be more 'legit' because I would then suffer from a 'disease' instead of suffering from the result of horrific trauma. I would also be legit because that opinion would be backed up by the fact that I would then be constantly sick because of the drugs. I am so sorry that I am such a piece of shit, but I am what I am. And now I will sleep. Though my husband has fallen asleep on the living room sofa, I will not be alone. Not really. You know how sometimes the imagination of a very lonely child is the only thing available to give her solace? Yeah, well... I am still that lonely child in a grown-up body. And so I will sleep with a fictional character by my side for company. I know that might sound a little bit pathetic, but the good part is that he is MY fictional character from my own writing. Actually, I guess he is kinda sorta me. I just hope I can hold on to him and that he won't leave me. If nothing else, at least I know he won't judge me the way outsiders do.