I had my son 19 years ago and was diagnosed post-partum psychotic 10 days after his birth. I have had to give up my dreams of being an artist and writer to raise and homeschool him. I married a man whom I thought was my best friend, but 21 years later I'm trapped in a marriage to a brain without a heart. I live with him, my son and his GF -- who has an over-inflated sense of entitlemen t-- and two cats in a 3 bedroom, 1 bath apartment. All of my blood relations live five provinces away and, much as my friends love me, they're sick of my bitchy indecisiveness. I'm stuck in therapy because the only thing I can change about my sh!tty situation is myself. I'm holding onto both my sanity and my faith by mere threads and while I try to maintain a brave front, I go to sleep each night wishing this broken heart would just stop.