I don;t know where to start.  I grew up in a dysfunctional family.. My Dad was only home 2 days a week, sometimes 2 or 3 weeks went by before I saw him, then it was for 2 days.  My mother treated me like something she had to put up with, a lot of yelling, screaming and belittleing..I was very out-going and happy until my teens when I became convinced my Mom hated me. She threw whatever was at hand at me in rages and spoke to me like I was dirt.  I'd do something that got me in trouble, and she'd scream and rant, hit me and lock me in my room... Whatever crimes I'd committed got reported to my dad and I would be punished again..My dad believed in corporal punishment...He spanked us (me and my brother) with a ruler or a "fanny-whacker" which, at one point, he broke the handle off while spanking me.  My brother was my mom's favorite and he and I fought all the time...No matter who was at fault, it was always MY fault as far as she was concerned. She acted totally different when my dad was around.. He never saw how she really treated me.  I tried to tell him, but I guess he didn't want to bellieve it, so things never changed.  I married right after graduating High School, mainly to get out of my parents house.  I had started fooling around with drugs when I was a sophomore in High School..LSD, THC, Mescaline, you name it.  I loved hallucinogenic drugs, and continued to drop acid until about 2 years after I got married, when I had a "bad trip" and almost sliced my wrists. Then, my first husband and I started dabbling in sniffing cocaine in the mid-70's, after I had my first child in '74...We would buy a gram for $100 on the weekend, and it would last us til Sunday morning.  This went on for 6 yrs..Only weekends. We grew apart and our marriage was going downhill fast when I found out that I was pregnant.  We decided that I should terminate the pregnancy, so I did. I left him when my son was 7, and he BEGGED me not to take him.  I didn't..and deal with the MASSIVE guilt I feel about seeing my son running down the driveway crying "Mommy! Mommy!" as I drove away.  It's unbearable. I don't know how I did it... I'm a selfish bitch who always puts herself first and I don't feel that there is any good reson for me to be here at all.  I did remarry, had 3 kids, one that died, and an emotionally and physically abusive husband... There is SO much more to tell, but I feel myself slipping and just can't say any more right now.