It'll get better.

Out of pure boredom/randomness, I think I'll share my life story.

My Dad, Joey, is 11 years older than my mom, Melissa. My parents at the time I was born were very dependent on drugs and alcohol, and it was a tough house to grow up in. I remember having to wait for my Dad to drink beer before we walked to the park. I remember after he had an affair when I was 6 my mom ran away to Las Vegas for 4 months with another man, without a trace. I remember seeing my dad taken away in handcuffs for the first time for domestic disturbance when I was 6. Most painfully I remember being teased on the bus because all the kids on my street saw my dad get drunk, puke all over the sidewalk, and fall in the bushes.
By the time first grade rolled around, I'd seen more stupid shit than most kids see in their whole lives. I was never treated like a kid....I was always expected to handle situations in an adult manner, and this is why I was so drawn to my grandma, nicknamed by my sister and I "dondoo". She always treated me like the scared child I was, and was always there to put a roof over my head if I needed one. I'll always remember that.
Shortly after Dad was arrested for domestic disturbance, my mom, sister and I ran away to Alabama to live with my grandparents. during this time, my dad got drunk and tried to rob a CVS for narcotics and would be hauled off to prison for the next two years. While I was confined to the deeply religious house in alabama, my mom suffered a heroine addiction and thats how Robert came into the picture. If you want to know more about him, I believe I mentioned him in another blog.
This was a rough time for me. I felt like I didn't fit in with all the other kids. I didn't know my mom was on drugs even though she got infections in her arm. But whatever I could find out I protected my sister Kerra from.
After 3 years, we moved back to VA with my Dondoo in a small apartment in the projects. Don't call me crazy - this apartment was haunted. So, after 6 months, my mom wrecked my grandmas car and was kicked out, where she went to rehab. My dad got out of jail and came to live with us.
From there on out were the main moments that defined me. We moved to the suburb of our city, in a better house, I started middle school, and felt like an outcast. My mom wasn't around, I to this day don't know where she was. I would later come to realize that I didn't care if I didn't fit in. But in 6th grade, I was so unsatisfied with my life I suffered a very severe addiction to the internet. Summer 2006, the most confusing summer of my life. During this summer I moved in with my now resurfaced mom and her wealthy 49 year old boyfriend, Glen. We moved into a beautiful house. Things seemed to be going so, so perfectly. Then my mom started drinking again. 7th grade. One of the most painful years of my life. Glen didn't care if my mom drank as long as he could get her into bed at the end of the night. Her alcoholism brought me the worst Christmas of my life. Last christmas, her bipolar disorder acted up and she stabbed glen in the arm, threw water in my face, and disappeared with a bottle of jack daniels.
This recent summer, my mom started going to a methodone clinic and we moved back into the city. Things are...better now? Getting better. Methadone isn't good for her bipolar. My Dad still drinks, and is living with Dondoo, but he's working and I haven't seen him drunk for months. While all of this has a melancholy tone to it, I'm glad it happened- it made me stronger. Sorry to make this so long lol. I had so much to say I didn't exactly put my literary skills to use, so if the sentences have grammatical errors or just flat out sound bad...I wasn't trying.