I wish I had the kind of family where my mom would tell my older sister to look out for me now that her full-time job is disabling her to. But I don't. Nor should I, at almost 31, need looking after. I'm a depressed girl. When self-help stuff works for a person, that's an indication there's something wrong to begin with. I called it 15 years ago. The adults who taught me: my dad doesn't start, my mom doesn't stop. I've watched life wide-eyed but shudder and hide when it's my turn. Then I think about a thing for a few months, come to some conclusion about it (cease thinking about it), and claim freedom from thinking about it, at least temporarily. I must be in for a long life ... this taking so long to circle around act of mine.