The emotional anguish I have to go through, no one would ever understand. Everybody wanted a miracle. Me, living through life and not killing myself. Now that's what I call a bloody miracle!
Growing up, all I was exposed to was violence. Not TV violence, but voilence in reality, and at full force: Dad hitting Mom. Dad hitting me and my brother. Dad knocked Mom unconcious. Mom left after the incident.
I tried to kill myself when I was a teenager. I swallowed a whole dozen of sleeping pills but it didn't kill me. I woke up lying beside a shattered glass and an empty stretch of tin foil the next day. The door to my room was wide open. Someone has been in the room. Someone who managed to predict that a dozen of sleeping pills and a shattered glass beside a supposedly-sleeping teenager would mean he's still going to survive and MY!!!! That person was right! I actually survived! (With a kickass hangover...)
After Mom came home from her disappearance, she was never the same again. I felt the distance. But who gives a fuck about my feelings? I was just a kid to them. They seem to think that everything was "fine". The family is all perfect. So life goes on as if none of that has ever happened!
Not long after my attempted suicide, I told Mom one fine afternoon that, if not the whole family, I AM in desperate need to see a counselor before things get out of hand. And the answer I get? "Nothing is wrong with the family."
Now... let me try and recall what has happened over the years: Dad was abusive cigarette addict, Mom ran away from the family after being knocked unconcious by Dad, I tried to killed myself but nobody cared, my brother knocked someone up and dumped her at a convenient store AND THEN proceeded to run far away from home to work in a far away place and my parents managed to pretend that none of it ever happened.... WOW!!!! It sure sounds like "NOTHING IS WRONG WITH THE FAMILY".
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