But first I want to suggest that maybe you aren't "clinically depressed". Maybe life is hard, and happiness is not something inherent in life, but something that has to be nurtured in harsh conditions. Bad things continue to happen around us, yet we wonder why we aren't happy? Maybe the problem isn't an internal one! Maybe your unhappiness is a completely healthy response to a completely unhealthy reality. Some people seem to think that our mental health shouldn't be affected by mundane things like economics, politics and the tone of the talking heads on the TV, but I disagree. The best part about the last election was that there were so many unhappy people! Maybe we should all be unhappy, what with a collapsed economy and our shiny new president already teetering on the edge of moral failure. Oh, add in the fact that our country has engaged in 6 years of morally-indefensible war. You are a child of the Bush years as well as a child of bad parents. You should be unhappy. At least until you can find a satisfactory compromise between your wants and needs and the possibilites available in 2009. Honestly, as long as the American masses (and our leaders) continue fiddling as the republic burns, none of us deserve to be happy. The missing thing is not personal. It's just our nation's moral compass. (Oh, I forgot! Obama is president, so all the bad things are behind us!)

no thanks

My parents are horrible, narcissistic people who have only cared about themselves as they demolished me and my siblings' lives.

I absolutely despise them for the countless hours of abuse and neglect I was put through, for not giving me any sense of self or culture to identify with as an expatriate third-culture kid. Of uprooting us without the decency of acknowledging our country. I am angry, and will probably remain wounded for the rest of my life.

But after reading this, I'm saying this without being tough. I've felt stripped raw around people, ready to well up at the lightest provocation.

And then I read your column.

I feel okay after reading and saying this. I can't thank you enough for writing this; truly, you speak for me.

And I say this in the most sympathetic way. You are still very young, in that you still completely draw your identity and self-worth from your parents and your experiences as their child.

You must, must realize that your parents' behavior had very little to do with you. This fact dawns on most people some day, usually after they've had children of their own and realize that the things they do and don't do as parents has nothing to do with the child in front of them, and usually too late to allow them to truly enjoy some of their earlier years.

My father is a hard man in many way, and I had a lot of anger toward him until one day I had a conversation with my aunt. She explained the terrible things his mother used to do to him, and I realized that, even though he was grown up and was suppoting a family, even though he was my dad and had all of the awesome responsibility that came along with it, he was still dealing - or, more aptly, not dealing - with a lot of the traumas that had been inflicted upon him in his childhood. It made me see him as a human being. Once I took him off the pedestal, I was able to see what his strengths and weaknesses as a parent were, and seek the input and influence I needed that he was unable to give from other sources. I began to see myself as an individual, separate from him and my mom, with my own experiences, and I could choose how deeply I allowed myself to be influenced or controlled by those experiences and move along with my own life.

Your mother is an alcoholic for reasons that have nothing to do with you. She probably always will be an alcoholic. She will never bee the mother you needed, or want. But if you can manage to see her as a human being, with her own flaws, you can start to get over the hurt and anger you feel as a result of her parental deficiences and truly live your life on your own terms.

The advice above also applies to relationships. Many times, how a partner treats you has little to do with who you are. It's more about how you fit into their dynamic, and what needs they are meeting in the context of your relationship. The more people realize that, and stop internalizing someone else's behavior as a reflection of their own flaws and faults, the more healthy relationships there will be!!

As for your dad, there is nothing that you can do to fill the void his death has left, except perhaps celebrate the meaning he did bring to your life while he was in it.

This is not to diminish or minimize what must have been a disappointing, perhaps traumatic childhood. It's more a tool to try to help you deal with it and move past it. Because that's where it is. In the past. You can't change it, and it's not likely that anything will make up for it. But it is possible to be happy today, and tomorrow. I hope you find some peace and happiness.

I was abused by my father, raped by boys who I trusted too easily with my fragile self, and treated like a nuisance by my mother.

At 22 I would have found that I had a lot in common with Missing Piece, and sadly, at 38, after many years and many false starts, I find that I still do.

Perhaps if I had hit bottom at some point along the way, I would have been able to find the ability to lick my wounds, to heal, and to begin to own my life and live it without apology. But this never happened. I hope that, without ever hitting rock bottom, it will now. My dear cousin committed suicide in September. Having suffered similarly while in the custody of my father's brother, he paralleled me in more ways than I realized while he was alive. His death has forced me to remove suicide from its long-time place on the back burner of possibilities for my future and really try to make sense of my time here and attempt to lead a life that is mine and is meaningful.

After an aborted attempt to drive into a guard rail in November, I found an excellent therapist who is clearly very invested in getting me on a road that will take me to a better place [please excuse the lame pun]. And letters like yours help immensely.

You do a good thing here Cary.

Thank you.