by Jude Coyle

Created on: August 14, 2010   Last Updated: August 15, 2010

I write this at age 55, somewhat reluctantly. I'd like to think that dealing with my father's alcoholism is something I put aside with my Barbie dolls. I spend very little time thinking about it or dwelling on it.

I have always wanted more out of life. I am a wife and a mother, and I am a writer. I am not successful at most endeavors at this point because I've managed to shoot myself in the foot, especially when it mattered the most. 

I find myself deeply needy and completely in love with my immediate family, and yet pushing others away. My children are my everything. I remember once when I felt my eldest was threatened by an extended family member. Instead of dealing with the individual who made the threat, I completely closed out her, her husband, her children and grandchildren.

 In retrospect, I have to admit that my decision was reactionary, heated, and not very effective. But that's me. I react before thinking something through, and it usually takes time to realize that 'normal' people would have handled it better. And for not being 'normal', I am terrifically sorry. Although in this particular incidence if given the same circumstances, I'd do it again. Maybe not so emotionally or loudly. 

I have a very spotty work history, a lot of which is affected by temper tantrums. 

I have few friends. I used to have a lot. Now I hold people at arm's length because I am terrified of being hurt one more time. After being teased as a child, I find myself 'anticipating' it. I participated in an on camera interview last fall, and I remember thinking that when the interviewer chuckled that she was laughing at me. After watching the film, I realized she laughed because I said something funny. Honestly, I was horrified at myself for jumping to such a conclusion. Now I am thankful I kept my mouth shut. I can only imagine the embarrassment I could have caused if I shared my feelings.

I am not confident about my abilities or my personality. When I meet someone for the first time, and I endeavor to put my best side forward, I find myself thinking, 'wow, she likes me.' And then I wonder how disappointed she will be when she figures out who the real me is. 

I speak with my siblings, and I realize that they are just as screwed up as I am and maybe worse. I watch them throw temper tantrums. I see anger and anger issues, and I am sure than none of them understand that the amount they carry isn't rational. My sister lectures me about how

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