previously on my big, fat, fucked up life…

I’ve blocked out most of my childhood, I have only a handful of memories etched into my brain, and quite honestly those aren’t the best memories in the world. The first real memory that I can recall, I was maybe 5. My parents were fighting, like always. But this time I remember my mom pulling out her pistol she kept hidden in her room, putting the barrel of said pistol to her head and pulling the trigger, the gun was loaded, but for some reason it didn’t discharge call it luck, or maybe the bullets were old, I really Don’t know why it didn’t blow her brains out like she wanted. So I guess you could say suicidal tendencies run in the family. In fact my great grandmother was put in an mental institution for trying to off herself (where she stayed for the remainder of her days) then there was my grandfather well he was more homicidal then suicidal but still you can pretty much say my family is fucked when it comes to mental stability.