Let’s get real. This is a really personal post, so shove it if you don’t like it.
Most of ilex_amethyst’s post, which is shown below my own comments, can be said of myself, give or take a few things. It inspired me to write all this, so yeah. Bear with me.
I don’t have a husband, but I do have a wonderful boyfriend. I have 3 older brothers and 1 younger sister, so I’m that awkward kind of middle child. Both of my parents were alcoholics and drug addicts. We lived in squalor; all I can say is to imagine filth, no food, and no electricity. The memories of all that happened there are too many, too vivid. At age 2 I was taking care of my infant sister while my brothers were in school. She’s like my child. Hard to describe.
My siblings and myself went into the foster care system…no way to describe it unless you’ve been in it. Afterward 1 brother, my sister and myself lived with our grandparents; my other 2 brothers got sent to another grandparent. That split-up was so hard on all of us.
Sometimes I’d give anything to have no memory of anything before age 15.
I never, ever want to be a child again. All I ever wanted as a child was to be grown up, and I’m glad some wishes come true.
and they’d rather be kids again…
I grew up without a home most of the time.
Swapped around from family to family.
I was dragged to churches that scared me by different family members.
Watched as my mother tried to kill herself with drugs and sliced her pretty skin to try to deal with…