I am almost 33 years old. Growing up I was always the “happy” one in the family. You see I was adopted at the age of 6, abandoned at the age of 2 1/2, grew up in foster care until a “suitable” family had been chosen for me and my two siblings. No one could possibly understand how I felt so I masked every little negative feeling. I didn’t want anyone else to feel sad like me so I played the happy part quite well. As a teenager my depression began so show but my mother told me to pray about it and it would go away. (not that praying isn’t a good thing) Needless to say it didn’t go away…you can’t pray a chemical imbalance away. I tried to live normally and was successful until I found out I was pregnant at the age of 17. The baby was born and I chose adoption since I knew that I wasn’t capable of taking care of my little girl. Again, life moved on and I lived “happily”. I gave birth at age 20 to a beautiful little girl and my husband and I lived quite happily for several years. I believe it was the happiest time of my life but it ended. My depresson worsened and I wouldn’t even leave the house; I got divorced. I was never a party girl but after the divorce something snapped and I began drinking heavily and eventually drank my way out of my daughter’s life. I haven’t seen her since she was 2 1/2…she is 12 1/2 now. At age 24 I met a man and we had our two precious boys. They are the most beautiful things in my life. When I am sad they hug me and when I am happy they laugh with me. Needless to say their father and I ended our relationship when the youngest was just 6 months old. He stole them when they were only 3 and 4. Canada won’t get your children back for you unless you have a court order (just so you know). I lost a year with my babies. Once they were recovered from Illinois, when their father was deported from Canada, I immediately rushed to pick them up. I have a man in my life that loves them as if they were his own. Its too bad he doesn’t love their mother like that. I struggle every day with my decisions and choices but I don’t have the strength to go; he has taken to hitting me every couple of months. He says its because I push him and push him until he can’t take anymore. Personally I think its because I am overweight and because I am so depressed sometimes that I can’t function. He says I have changed…I know I have changed. My children are with my sister temporarily so that I can get my life back on track but here I sit closer to the edge than ever before. I am screaming out into the darkness and no one can hear me. There is no one out there… I am the crazy one.