I am not trying to one up anyone, but…
My grandpa committed incest on my mom and her siblings, my dad had to beat his dad up with a chair to save his mother’s life. I’ve got a sister that was “murdered” by my grandpa—she was my half sister.
My aunt was so drugged she didn’t even realize her three year old daughter had been struck and killed by a passing car—right in front of her.
One of my cousins was shot twelve times over a small bag of heroin—a back alley in Bakersfield became his final home.
Growing up, I witnessed my mom talking to herself in “the baby voice” while she hid under the table where she claimed she was safe.
When I was five, my dad suffered a bleeding ulcer—his brothers were more concerned about his will than his well being.
and thats the condensed reason why I moved to Los Angeles and adopted dogs. :D