Who am I? Finding out that my father is not my biological father.

After my first child was born in 1992, my father decided to tell me my father was not my biological father. I am 24 years old and completely destroyed. My mother told me it is due to her injury and pain to my father, and I hope to tell it it will hurt him. Shortly afterwards, I felt myself depressed but I knew that I had to take care of my daughter, so my mind was blocked mentally. A year later, I had a panic attack and I learned that my "devil" emerged. I did consulting for three years, and I had to separate me from my mother. I knew she was a poison, I had to rearrange. My adviser said that when I first came to see him, I seemed to have been obstructed and dead by 18 rings. Three years later, I became able to talk about 'situation' without complete anxiety attack, and my spiritual journey began. When my mother talked about this, my biological father was dying for two years. I met him once at the age of 17, but I do not know who he is.

I am 42 years old now, but not completely calm for 18 years, "situation" appears, sometimes annoying me. Over the years, I am facing a certain identity crisis. After seeking answers to spiritual guidance, church, prayer, counseling etc, I do not know the way to completely let go. It is still a shadow. I finally told not to look for answers from other places. And wait for God to come and bring me peace that only he can give. I would like to share my story here, but I hope that I can lend a hand, I may stumble over the "answer"

Most men have two fathers, their biological father and heavenly father. However, I have three lucky things, but initially I did not know that it was a blessing. My mother left her biological father when I was 5 years old. This is another story, but the next person she got married becomes the third father in my life. But like me and other humans, Bob has a double character. He quoted the Bible soon, but he cursed immediately and eventually desperately came. Like King David, he suffers from melancholy, and sometimes it seems that the bright light of Christ also casts him a shadow.

My father is not my biological father. Last year, I learned through my relatives' Facebook news that my real father was black and kind and disappeared from my mother's life. But this is not a story about biology, it is a story about those who appreciated that they do not share your chemistry. Your loved ones did something unimaginable - breaking your fucking mind. When I was twelve years old, I met a man I called a father My first memory was that he bent over the stove and let me eat the slices of beef and boxed macaroni and cheese It was. He worked with Belmonte's horses and met my mother waiting at a small restaurant across the street. Their love letters are love letters, and his huge screenplay stands out in his argument for her love. Sometimes I laugh, this is because my first husband found a ferry so this is my mother It is the nickname of. West Asia is difficult to pronounce