My father's side of the family is completely abusive and horrid. The two people who loved me on that side sadly passed away when I was a young teenager. The remaining are terrible. They verbally abused me, my sister, my mom. They aren't worth it. I haven't spoken to them in six months; and I have never felt more free from their useless, pointless hate.

As for my mothers side; they are incredible. They visit when ever they can. Are always so supportive of me and my family. They know what my interests are, and they encourage me. As where my grandmother on my fathers side did not know I was a writer until I read at my brothers funeral. I have been writing and published since I was 12. How pathetic is that?

At least I have a balance.