My life has been intensely stressful for as long as I can remember. An early history of abuse, neglect and family tragedies (not unrelieved by good things) was not helped by my sensitivity, introversion, lengthy of history of being diagnosed and treated for the wrong medical illness, assault, PTSD, anxiety, a visual disability (no driving), insufficient funds, indifferent general health, and, finally, my entrapment in a small town without transit or work, in the middle of nowhere, with family who don't actually see who I am. I'm not helped by a pitiful lack of courage. I do recognize that none of these disasters are unusual in themselves--just some of life's hard knocks. Maybe the combination wasn't so hot. But it's not like I got hit by an asteroid or something interesting. I do feel demoralized, though, by the latest round of stressors, problems and banal catastrophes. They're part of the cascade of problems that hit people who are already vulnerable. Yes, I've made noticeable progress in recent years. Yes, I'm facing the current things, one at a time. Yes, I dare say things could be worse. (Note to universe: That is not an invitation.) But I'm just so damned tired out and, above all, humiliated. I'm so embarrassed, straggling along here at the end of the line, fighting like mad to achieve what most people knocked off years ago with ease. I just look so pathetic to myself. I could take the hardship. It's the shame that does me in. Any thoughts?