My name is Glenda, and all of my life I have been teased because of it.

No one can resist bringing up Glenda the Good Witch. The thing is, the good witch is named Glinda, not Glenda. I could say that I don't know what my mother was thinking when she named me, but unfortunately I do. She was thinking of Glinda the Good Witch, and just like everyone else, missed the proper pronunciation. She had always been intrigued by the idea that there could be a good witch and she found Glenda to be more level headed than Samantha Stevens of "Bewitched", so there you go. My father readily admits that they neglected to mention my mother's insanity when filling out the adoption forms. The point is that I am neither good, nor a witch. I am 33 years old and married to Adam, but I am sleeping with Paul again. I have two little girls that I love. I have a big house that a year ago, or more likely two, would have been worth well over a million dollars. I am a published author, and am a member of the PTA. At the moment I am also suicidal, but I know it will pass. It always does. I've told Paul (again) that I won't be sleeping with him anymore. He's told me (again) that I don't mean it. I've told him that I love Adam and my girls. He's told me he does too. I've told him that I can't live like this. He's told me that he can't live any other way. We are seriously screwed up.

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