by Miss Kat

Created on: February 05, 2009

I can't remember the first time I took a razor to my wrist, but whenever that was, it hasn't stopped since.

I've always been somewhat of a closet basket case, but can you truly blame me? My mother was a major prescription pill aficionado and my father was this snooty, pomp-ass lawyer guy who had this perfect life, or so he liked to pretend. He had a gorgeous wife, an all star athlete son, and me, a basket case daughter who just so happened to be a cheerleader. Is that even possible you ask? It was. At least in our family.

My mom, for as long as I can remember, never had to work. My Dad brought home the bacon and more. However, bringing himself home was more of a difficult task. He worked extremely long hours and my Mom, well, she knew that most of those hours were spent with Alexis, his 23 year old secretary. This drove my mom over the edge, but the one time she brought it up to my dad, he threatened to divorce her so fast it would make her head spin. He also threatened to leave her penniless and childless on top of all things. That was enough to scare my mom straight... into vicodin and oxicotin. Two of the most addictive prescription painkillers anyone could imagine.

That wasn't the worst of it. My mom completely ignored my brother and I, and my father we just never really saw. Outwardly, the community thought we were the perfect family. Realistically, we were Roseanne's family, but wealthy. However, now that I think about it, Roseanne's family was simply dysfunctional and they loved one another. Our family was dysfunctional and hated each other.

One night, after hours of debating on whether life was truly worth it or not, I decided that it wasn't. I know. I make it sound like such an everyday thing, but when you live in my family, emotions dry up quickly like water in a desert.

I had a razor in my hand and I was contemplating on whether to cut vertically on my wrist, or whether I should just take a bunch of painkillers. After all, my mom was the queen of prescription medication.

Just as I was making this extremely vital decision, I heard screaming coming from right outside my door. It was my parents. I had never heard them fight like this before. I couldn't understand a word my mom was saying because she was slurring so bad from all the liquor and medication, while my dad just kept repeating, "It's over, Colleen! We're through. Kiss your bot ox treatments good-bye,". Makes you want to laugh, doesn't it?

How shallow were they and what the hell kind of a threat was

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>