Good grief, I have a lot of stuff. Got rid of at least half the contents of the games and puzzle cupboard. I love jigsaw puzzles, but realistically, when and where am I going to work on so many? Someone else might as well enjoy them. Packed most of the kids stuff and most of the bathroom stuff. Bones hurt from moving around banana boxes full of books. I guess the fabric will be next....

The abortion debate is making me realize how profoundly the topic has affected my childhood and the way I relate to people. A child should not grow up being told that they were an accident, that they were almost aborted, that they should be grateful.... The message I got was that they were ambivalent about having me in their life and weren't sure I'd been worth the trouble, that I wasn't really wanted, that I was disposable. And wouldn't you know it, these are the exact same feelings I struggle with today. Why would someone tell a little kid that? Why? I mean, with graphic pictures and descriptions of what would have happened and everything?

I can see clearly where this stuff came from. I can see clearly that no child, including myself, should be subjected to that. What I cannot seem to do is to stop it from hurting, to stop it from repeating itself over and over and over again until every single human interaction I have is fraught with the anxiety of being rejected. It's turned into a never ending nightmare, and I don't know what to do to make it stop.