Dear readers, recently I’ve been experiencing yet more medical issues. During my research on my potential new diagnoses, I made a rather startling connection. My mind has been blown with what I’ve discovered. Today, this post may be a bit of a rant as I connect all the dots. It took me five years to make all these realizations. My entire life I was ruled by responsibility, I even accepted responsibility for things that weren’t my fault – just to keep the peace between the man who donated his sperm for my mother’s eggs and his bed-warmer. I try not to hate him or blame him and accept responsibility for my own well-being but I’m in a place in my life where I can longer ignore his role and it makes me mad. Livid, really. From the beginning of my existence, SHE told me there was “nothing wrong” with me and to stop being a hypochondriac like my grandmother. I believe, truly that neither of them really wanted to raise children – they just seemed to want a maid (her) and to not die alone (