*trigger warning* monster

I tried to show my husband how remote my childhood isolation was. He doesn’t care. All that matters is that I’m here cooking supper. He’s not abusive… he just doesn’t care about anything that I’ve been through. I cook him supper because I like to cook. It matters to me. I like to cook good food and I do good.. My family is fucking crazy and I try to be sane. My cousins have committed suicide. One on death row just before he was about to be executed. My brother killed a man as well. My auntie was shot to death by her husband because she caught him molesting their 12 yr old down syndrome daughter. They never even charged him with anything. I read the autopsy report. He shot her 4 times in the back through a closed door as she was running away. They said it was self defense. My children are only 15 younger than me because of my pedophile that my parents left me to because they favor  my older sister. She started fucking our little brother when he was 9. I hate this family! I hate this life! I wish I didn’t exist!