I think I figured out my problem...

...of course it could be my imagination or I could be just plain wrong. But, after spending time with my dad, I remember why I'm nuts. Yesterday he was annoyed at something and he spoke for at least 15 minutes about how my mistake had inconvenienced him. I respect him enough to listen for a long time, but seriously...within reason for God's sake. I think my Xanax wore off at one point of his diatribe and I said, "You had me at 'You fucked up'. Everything else you're saying is superfluous."
He barked, "It's for emphasis! I gently mentioned that the things he says are hurtful. I think he apologized or said "fuck you"... or something like that.

I thought about being a kid and thinking that all his ramblings were evidence that I wasn't good enough for him, or anything else for that matter. I'm surprised I didn't leave for San Francisco to be a hippie sooner than I did. Actually, if I had left sooner, I would have enjoyed the hey-days of Haight Ashbury instead of marrying a marine who got out of the Corp by way of Section 8.

Anyway, I'm doing well...for a suicidal wreck who uses the hope of good stuff to stick around. If I did commit suicide, I would do it where someone I didn't like would find my body. I'd eat a lot of laxatives just to be a bitch.