I've been a reader of yours for years and, frankly, I think the only voice I think would understand.

I'm a 32-year-old artist with a 9-year-old child from a previous marriage. I have been in a committed relationship with my current partner for four years. He's 31. In the beginning, he wooed me like no one had ever done. He offered my son and me a home (300 miles away from where I was living). We met on Twitter and both of us were in serious relationships before we decided to cut our ties with them and go for it. We moved into the apartment he shared with his brother and, at one time, his ex-girlfriend. Now he has a temper, and we clashed at first, because I was used to being the head of the house as a single mom, but we loved each other passionately. He is also an insanely jealous man, and I became more withdrawn to avoid any problems. All in all, we had a good life. I brought my own baggage and he had to deal with my depression.

We decided to open a business with a partner and invested everything into it, only to have the partner withdraw at the last minute and turn his back on us. We lost our apartment and our car. His brother had to move away and my parents stepped in to help with my son, moving him 300 miles away. We moved into the supply closet of our business.

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I am a 38-year-old woman having a hidden affair with my ex-husband of 10 years ago. To be completely honest, we're just having sex, no seduction involved. Old feelings are welling up for me, some good but mostly bad, all with a huge side order of guilt and shame. I don't think my ex has feelings for anyone except himself and our children. He's the most selfish person I know while extolling himself any chance he gets as a model of generosity. Yes, he's free with money and he's pleasant and jocular with strangers, acquaintances and friends, but he's stingy with his feelings. I'm realizing (again) that he doesn't seem to have any. He seems to exist on a completely superficial plane and when someone pisses him off he tells them how he feels and is done with them. He doesn't give anyone a chance to reply, just cuts them off. To him any discussion is an argument. He avoids confrontation unless he's the one instigating it. I should mention that he smokes pot daily, several times a day, and has since he was a teenager.

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Thank you for reading this letter.

I am 60 years old and I want a purpose. Being a mother has been my one real purpose. My adult children are secure and joyful and don't care for maternal meddling. I worked for pay for 12 years. It was a job not a career. I have been on disability for two years for problems related to being ADHD and bipolar -- mostly depression, although ADHD greatly impairs both my long- and short-term memories. I have found both homeopathy and Western medicine to be helpful.

I know most important for everyone -- and especially us aging boomers -- is social contact. My first obstacle is that I am an introvert. I scored 89 percent on the Meyers-Briggs. My apartment is in a building designated for recipients of Social Security and disability benefits. It is a nice, well-maintained building. My immediate neighbors are lovely. I rarely leave my apartment except to do laundry or grocery shop.

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I write seeking advice as the newly pregnant daughter of a chronically indebted, bipolar (and most likely borderline), recovered-alcoholic mother. The most recent incident that spurred this letter occurred when I took the day off to attend to my mother during an outpatient surgery and she did not have the $10 necessary for her pain medication co-pay. This came on the heels of the holidays when I had told her the best Christmas present she could give me was the knowledge that she had ability to pay her bills in January. Instead, I got several department-store gifts that were presumably bought on a credit card. 

I declined to pay the co-pay and received holy hell in the form of manipulation, anger, promises, anger, threats, etc. My brother later gave in, as we were worried about her pain. 

My mother makes over $80,000 a year in the mental health field. From the bills lying around on her desk (I looked and invaded her privacy) it appears that she is now in debt again to the only folks that will issue her a card, department stores, and to several bill-me-later and payday-loan places. I am an artist, live paycheck to paycheck, and make a fraction of her income. I do live within my means, and recognize that I have a lot of anxiety around money due to my experiences with my mother. I am attempting to become more financially literate and not fulfill the starving-artist stereotype.

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