I grew up in upstate New York near beautiful Owasco Lake. My summers were filled with swimming, skiing and sailing. I had great friends and wonderful aunts and uncles. But my home was filled with my father's anger. Siblings take on different roles in every family. In ours, my oldest brother slowly retreated from almost everything when he realized he could not control or even understand the source of all that anger. My second oldest brother simply became a villain. He acted out perhaps in an effort to create enough noise to drown out that anger. And me? I was the good girl. I did everything I was supposed to do and of course that didn't work either. So I ate. I can remember stuffing candy bars as early as elementary school. Eating and covering my tracks. Eating and denying. Now I'm ready to face those long ago demons. Finally ready to stand up and say, "You don't get one more day of my life."