When I was Alicia’s age, I engaged in self-destructive behaviors.  At that time I didn’t even know what CAH was -- I just knew that I was different.   I had long been the victim of an overwhelming depression that rose up within me and choked me with an unceasing dread.  I knew that I was different without ever having been told that I was different.  I was a teenage girl with hair on my chest, horrible cystic acne,  and chronic panic attacks.  I believe I know the place where Alicia is  --  I have struggled in that same darkness for the better part of my life.  It is hard to explain the rollercoaster of emotions that accompany this thing.  My own mother has tried for years to understand me but without living inside of me -- her suggestions, hopes and beliefs seem well-intended but woefully ineffectual. 

Age and experience have granted me some small semblance of wisdom and I know that things must get better.  At the same time, I know that it is nearly impossible to overcome the darkness when the darkness is within.