I guess it was obvious all along.  You get so used to people being the way they are that you can't see them any other way.  You'd refuse to believe that there's a problem, but there is.

My parents are alcoholics.  My environment isn't always stable and I don't know where to go for help. There, its  out there.  I can't carry this for another year.  The wondering if she's dead, the long walk down the hallway.  Knocking on the door and being told "Not now, I'm getting ready for bed." Like I don't know that it's in your water-bottle.  My family thinks I'm crazy.  For leaving home and trying to get myself help, I was shamed, ridiculed and ripped away from the life I built.  

Growing up, there were times I'd wait after school until 8 or 9 pm.  I learned to just go to the library until it closed and in high school I went to my friend Amy's house and ran track.  I hid behind the illusion of a fancy house.  It became an identity, like life was great because we had the two kids big house "American Dream."

I want out.  I want out but I'm penniless.  In debt is more like it.  I'm 27 and I know I should be out but for awhile I just let myself believe that I was the problem.  I'm scared my family will just find me again once I leave and drag me back here because there's no one to stand up for me.

I know I have potential, all I want is help.