When I was a kid I used to get really jealous whenever one of my friends had something really exciting happen to them. I remember when my best friend – I’ll call her Melissa – got to take horseback riding lessons. I seethed with jealousy. Really. Seethed. I thought it was so unfair that she got to do something that fun and I didn’t. I was angry at her. I was jealous. This was probably somewhat normal, but it was a really dark feeling. Whenever something really cool happened to Melissa I remember saying in my mind, “I wish I was Melissa.