...It's OK If You Are a Republican. The right does this kind of thing for years and no one blinks; in fact, we all hear how clever their noise-machine is. We do it and we're Evil! EEEVIL! *shaking head*...

Since you're obviously reading the letters here: I've met you, years ago (local media book tour for "Stepping Westward"), and I've always thought of you kindly since, and enjoyed reading you.

I was/am my own mother's heartache, and I now have two little girls who I know will make me worry the rest of my life. There's nothing wrong with them, I'll just always be hovering somewhere in the background, worrying.

I have no better advice for you than the advice you are giving yourself already (not that you're asking--just sayin'). Just know that a former radio producer you met once is sending you good vibes for this difficult situation.

...and not a journalist. I had the exact same problem as you. I hated making people uncomfortable. Now that I'm "just a writer," I'm much happier. I love writing. Cary is spot on: Make yourself useful some other way than being an in-the-field journalist.

Not because she's not having sex--I went three years celibate once, not by choice, but it was a good time in my life--but because she has massive, massive father and control issues. I hope some day she finds real peace, because the "peace" she has now is external.

And I wonder about the man she's now pinning her hopes on. While I don't doubt that a man can choose chastity, I suppose I've heard too many stories of relationships that start out that way and finish with the woman discovering that her relationship was sexless because her partner was gay--and she was just a beard.

Good luck to you, Dawn. You need it.

My dearest LW, and I truly mean that, get out now while the gettin's good. Don't even bother with the ultimatums. And go back to those rooms. Al-Anon is not for his drinking; it's for your recovery from this experience. It's not about him, it's about you. Keep the focus on yourself, because you are all you can control.

I could have written that letter, a few times, to my infinite humiliation. Serious work on myself is all that got me over it (and I was lucky enough to find the love of my life, which didn't hurt). For me that meant getting sober and getting humble, but it didn't end there. I don't know what it'll mean for you. It's a painful place to be in, that obsessive, out-of-control place, and I don't miss it at ALL. I wish you the best.