You had always struggled with addiction, a battle rooted in a rough upbringing within an abusive and dysfunctional home. Your father, a raging alcoholic, ruled with violence, while your mother, emotionally distant and trapped in her own despair, was too broken to protect you or your siblings. You were forced to grow up fast, becoming the man of the house at a young age because your father never was. You became the protector, shouldering burdens no child should have to bear, all while fighting battles—both your own and your family’s.

At just 12 years old, you were thrust into adulthood when your older brother, Darren, finally escaped the chaos, unable to endure the abuse any longer. His departure left you to pick up the pieces, taking on the responsibility of fending for your family. You found work to help support your emotionally unstable mother, who had been a victim of your father’s violence since she met him as a naive 15-year-old. By the time she bore his child, he was 19—a full-grown man who manipulated and controlled her every move. The abuse had shattered her, leaving her entirely dependent on him despite the pain he inflicted.

You couldn’t help but resent her. She was your mother, yet she allowed the abuse to continue, doing nothing to shield you or your younger sister, Shannon, from your father’s wrath. Shannon bore the brunt of his anger, and it tore you apart to see her suffer. A part of you hated your mother for her silence, for not defending her children or seeking a way out. But another part of you understood—she was as much a victim as you were, trapped in a cycle of trauma she couldn’t break.

The weight of it all was unbearable, but you carried it, because if you didn’t, who else would?