I am

A ball of insecurities, feelings of abandonment, and irrationality.

And I totally blame my horrible, messed up family life!

My mom was a nightmare, if a normal mother is nurturing, she was immersed in a book. If a normal mom was tidy, she was a slob. She didn't cook to nourish us, she cooked as a hobby. She put her hobbies, desires, and interests ahead of anything we wanted or needed. She even pitted us kids against each other. (One time for school shopping she gave me $200 dollars, my brother Tom $100, and Mike $50 - and yes, it caused problems).

When her mental health declined and she had to be hospitalized, I was 11 and left to attempt to feed, clean up after, and supervise my brothers. She returned a drugged zombie with multiple serious health issues - diabetes, lung disease, heart problems, massive, sudden weight gain.

What little bit of a mom she had been was gone. I spent the rest of her life trying to stay out of her way, keep her happy, and dreading the day I would come home, or get up and find her dead. It eventually happened. She died not ten feet from my bedroom door, and there are still times I feel guilty for not being aware she was out there, dying while I slept.

Then there's my father. When we were very young, he and mom smoked an enormous amount of pot. He earned a nursing degree to support his family and discovered that he now had access to demorol, which he stole, used, sold.

Then he left, and was just gone, for years.

But that's ok, mom married an insane, drunken, violent, pedophile, that totally made up for not having my real dad around. The pedophile even came with two kids. I had a sister there for a few years. Her big brothers was a bit too much like his father for me to remember fondly.

Then they were all gone from my life. Lesson: People are temporary, and will hurt you, bad, before leaving.

So, dad eventually came back, plain ole alcoholic now. That was fun. Mom sick, dad drunk. Made for a nice home life.

So, where was my extended family while mom was being crazy and sick and dad was being drunk? They were doing their own thing, much like now.

So, here we are.

I do my best to raise these three boys. I have $93K in student loans, but I have a steady job and income based repayment plan.

My brothers are theives, con artists, users, and loosers.

And my extended family has made them a project over the past year. I don't hear from anyone unless they need my help, didn't get any christmas cards from anyone, and didn't get invited to Christmas events. My brother Mike, who recently finally wore out his welcome with our aunt, got $200 worth of gifts from her.

I realize its completely irrational to feel jealous of my drug addict, thief brothers. But I am.

I have managed to become so self-sufficient that I have almost no one in my life. And the ones I do have in my life, I am afraid to let know how I really feel about them.

So I wine and rant and hope someone will just make it all better. I know that wont work. The problem is me. The problem is that every formative experience in my life has taught me not to trust, not to reveal myself, and to never, ever, trust anyone.

So I hide. Even when I am surrounded by people, I am hidden. I show only what I want them to see. I don't give anyone anything that might be ammunition. And I always steel myself for the worst thing to happen.

The people I envy, the ones with family dinner once a week, loads of friends to get together with through out the week, and siblings they are close to. Those people had different formative life experiences. They had parents who protected them from the monsters of the world and made them feel important and loved. They know how to share of themselves without shattering them selves.

I don't know how to do that. And I don't know how to learn. I know how to offer help. I know how to relate the facts of a situation. I don't know how to do it in a give and take sort of way that results in building a life in which people actually care about me.

So, to finish the title

I am unloved.