Thats funny I hate holidays. I love them for my kids but me myself, I get so stressed out knowing I have to be smiley and happy and I want to do is freaking run away and scream. Thats holidays with hubbys family. My family is nuts. All of us. My mom had five kids and we are all bipolar. Cops are called every holiday and birthday and a lot of pay days because my brothers are also alcoholics. Christmas time, the cops were called but not on me. I waited until they left and got my insanity out. My two brothers got in a huge fist fight right in the middle of doing Santa gifts for all the kids. I threatened to kick both of their assed when the cops left and they know better than to mess with me because I am after all the craziest of them all. All the cops know my family well. If its a birthday or holiday somethings gonna blow. This was my first attempt at celebrating with them in a very long time. I tried to keep my kids away from it all. They are all unmedicated except for my mom and shes on and off her meds which makes it all worse.

Childhood was the worst years. No love, no affection, beatings, sexual abuse. My mother at the time an unmedicated bipolar with an abusive heroin addict husband. My mom never bonded with any of us. I saw it all, stabbings, beatings, needles hanging out of arms, blood shooting across the room when they didnt do something right with the shots, grown *** men with **** and piss all over them, waking up on christmas morning to a drug addict laying on top of our christmas tree. I guess he just passed out standing up and fell on our tree. No gifts but a tree. wtf? ****ed up **** for a kid to see. I learned I had to lie early on because of child protective services. They were called on my family more than quaker has oats. I was the protector of the younger kids. I took all the worst of it. If they went for them I distracted them with something worse and turned the anger my way. I had this uncanning abilty to shut myself down while I was being beat or mollested. I didnt feel it. I dont remember most of it. I have black out problems, didnt remember most of the sexual abuse until around 15, I still have **** come back to me every now and then.

Im a survivor, thats what my best friend tells me. Ive either seen it, done it, or lived it and made it through just a little messed up.