Hello, out there in cyberland. I have begun this blog as a means to get the word out about dumbass thought patterns and false self beliefs. I have been the victim of abuse from infancy, as were my parents, grandparents and great grandparents. My father has traced abuse back in our family two hundred years...so far. He's done this by reading newspaper accounts, arrests, and family letters, etcetera. I am forty eight years old and have been divorced twice: once from a two year marriage, and recently from a fourteen year one. After years of counseling others by telling my own crazy story, I have written a memoir entitled: FREAK: The True Story of an Insecurity Addict. It'll be in print and on audio by the end of this year. I wanted to show all my brothers and sisters of circumstance that, having been shattered by a crappy childhood, there are other options than crack whore, homicidal maniac, or brow-beaten miserable loser. I fully realize that many struggle beyond their past and don't end up as one of the above life styles, but my book isn't for the ones who've succeeded, but the ones who've failed. Like me. I spent forty years trying to get past my own insecurities, but I was a hamster in a wheel; running and running but getting nowhere. What sets me apart from the majority of my family is the fact that I never turned to drugs or alcohol. For that, I'm REALLY lucky. I just watched the descent of so many family members into cheesy-lipped addiction and God-awful behavior that instead of joining in, I became adamantly opposed to drugs. As a kid, I was abused in all the ways possible: physically, mentally, sexually. By the time I was in high school, I could pick an abused student out of the crowd easily and gravitated toward them, wanting to save them, wanting to show them that it was okay, they could get past them, the future didn't have to be this. But it didn't stop me choosing people for my own life who were abusive. Not physically; that's something that makes me nuts even today and I won't put up with it. But that was the net that caught me. I thought that, as long as my husband didn't beat my kids or me, do drugs or drink excessively, that it wasn't too bad. I thought my two children were fine, would make it, even while their dad treated them terribly with pretty extreme mental abuse. By the time my daughter was sixteen, she was suicidal and my son was on drugs. Right under my nose. My insecurity had put my own children into danger. So I left my husband, got my daughter out of there and put my son in rehab. The last eight years have been spent cleaning up a pretty big mess. But it's cleaned up now and I want to help other idiots like me to see the good in themselves, to understand that no matter how low you are now, how disgusting a skank you might be, there is always hope for the future. You can change. If a moron like me can do it, anybody can. So take care, look at yourself without rose or shit-colored glasses but clear eyes, and see what's really there: Potential. Magic. Gold. Start digging.