I had always had anxiety. As far back as I could remember, I was always afraid of something happening. My mother was always screaming about something, and my father was drinking a bottle of R&R Whisky a night. I witnessed many fights, some physical, and lived with constant fear of being yelled at. By the time I was 9 we had moved from Oregon to Alaska, and My mother had been diagnosed with Bi-polar disorder. My father, who was still drinking daily, became sick, and I ended up finding him passed out in the bathroom one night, he was rushed to the hospital, calling my name, and in less than 24 hours, he was dead.
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