Loose-Knit Family

I feel like my father breaking his hip was a blessing in disguise.  Ever since the day he went into the hospital my family and I have been spending more and more time together.  I feel as though we're all in a pretty good place with eachother.  Don't get me wrong, there is still the occasional "she said/that bitch said" situation but its a little more quietly taken care of than it used to be.  I've always felt a certain distance between my family.  I guess the generation gaps between my sisters and I don't exactly help with that.  I was what most people call a change of life baby.  I don't like to be refered to as an accident, or surprise.  I was adopted.  No, I was not planned on either end of it, I just hate both of those words.  Two of my sisters were planned adoption, and the other two were planned pregnancy.  I always felt a slight bit as though I was an obligation.  I was taken from a bad situation and brought into a good family with a mother and father and four sisters.  The picture perfect family.  (Funny how we don't have even one family portrait.)  I don't think my teenage rebellion years were the best remedy either.  I went through the "goth" phase, and decided my friends were more important to be around (look where that got me.)  I felt that my family was pushy and overbearing.  I never wanted to have anything to do with them so I would smear on black lipstick and run out of the house before anyone could say anything to me.  I know the exact day that changed.  It was my oldest sister's birthday and I came home from a morning coffee run with my friends.  I had to be home, it was one of the few reasons I felt that I did.  I said in my usual holier than thou tone "I can only stay for a while, my friends are waiting for me at Harley's house."  My mother said "whatever" and walked away.  For the first time I felt like my family didn't care what I did, and the strange thing was it hurt.  I didn't understand the feeling so I just left.  Slowly after that incident I started coming around more often and trying to get closer with my family.  The final straw was when I met my husband.  My whole family agrees that he brings the best out of me.  I still don't feel like I've really accomplished much, but the prediction my family had for me was that I was going to die at a young age in a dirty bathtub with a needle in my arm (not that I ever did those kind of drugs, but my family didn't know me very well.)  I guess I'm doing much better than they [and I] thought I would be.  Thriving and actually able to pay my own bills. 

Just recently my parents' 50th anniversary passed and I spent a good portion of the day shopping for a gift and laughing with my second oldest sister.  A very unlikely scenario had this been a year ago or even 3 months ago.  It felt good.  So this brings me to my question ...why am I so depressed?