——Dan——
Since my family was messed up, I never really looked forward to anything that meant that I'd be spending a considerable time with them. Sunday dinners, holidays, Christmas… They all looked like a task I'd have to survive. These all just meant the same thing to me: a time of suffering, trying my best to survive their verbal abuse.
Even this time, the first time I realized Christmas was coming along, I almost started to stress, hell, I almost got a panic attack from all the PTSD I had from before. Although when I realized that they weren't around I calmed down a little bit, but I was still uncomfortable with the whole thing.
