I cannot say I am doing well; however, I can say that I am average. It is so easy for my daughters’ mother to say see a therapist, honestly though after about the eighth one I realized that the reason I can’t be helped is because psychology just isn’t there yet with understanding my trauma. I read up on a lot of studies continuously but until children are full grown, they cannot get accurate studies. They understand more than a decade ago, but not enough. Eventually I just get tired of test after test and having to reexplain myself over and over again. I feel like a social experiment sometimes. I have often thought what it would be like if someone were to jump out and yell “JOKES! It was all an experiment! Here is a pill to make you all better!” That is not realistic. This also makes me wonder what it would be like if I did have the choice to start over. If I could grow up in an ideal situation and achieve my goals, would I? What if going with the first family my birthmother chose happened and I never went to the villages. What if I grew up in a really nice safe neighborhood and had a lot of friends and was a straight A student. What if this family had all my college paid for? Would I choose it? My daughter’s parents would have had another mother choose them, probably one a lot more stable. They wouldn’t always have to deal with my moods. My family wouldn’t have had to deal with my moods because they would have never known me. My little sister could have been their only daughter which I am sure would have made her happy. I can say that my past has shaped me to be the kind of person I am today, whether that’s good or bad depends on the day. Although I try to stay strong, I feel the depressive episodes getting worse and harder to handle, even if momentarily. I feel like there is a tear that is slowly growing with the more weight set upon it. I had a couple beers this past weekend but nothing anything major. I know stress is a major trigger of these moods. Stress will always be there. I feel this episode fading away for good. However, that does not change the fact that it was a pretty bad one that kept coming back. The thought in itself is scary.