I grew up in a dysfunctional family like millions of other people, my Dad was an alcoholic, my parents divorced when I was nine, Mom remarried when I was ten. I was the only girl with four brothers. I blamed myself for my parents divorce for many years. Only because I was the one who spotted Dad’s car at the local bar and pointed it out to Mom but only because I was excited to see it but Mom was far from excited she stopped the car immediately went inside and told him to get his ass home and pack his belongings because it was over. Which he did as I stood outside crying next to his car while he loaded it up and drove away. Other then losing a pet this was the first time in my life that I experienced the horrible feeling of loss. Little did I know that this was a feeling I would endure many more times.
This is going to be interesting I think.