Thanksgiving is coming up.
That means family.
That means dealing with my parents, who have been pretty rough on all us kids — despite the glaring fact that we were — each of us — actually disabled to some extent.
We ruined our parents’ lives. Or so we were told.
That much was made clear to us in a million different ways, over the years we lived in their house.
I left that house as soon as I was humanly and legally able. I knew my odds were better in an indifferent world that hadn’t yet made up its mind about me, than with a family that had already decided I was a waste of space.
And I was right.
More to come…