This one is a very simple question to answer.
Nowhere.
Seriously.
My father was a piss tank alcoholic with a metric shit ton of demons.
My grandmother was a piss tank alcoholic with her own metric shit ton of demons.
There was absolutely no love in my family.
Anything that resembled love was just an attempt at blackmail.
I know that it’s weird to think, but the only time that I think I will ever feel loved is when people stop forcing me to live.
The best way for people to show their love to me is to admit that not everything is fixable and that sometimes the best course of action is to end the suffering, the depression, and the anxiety.
Beeshive 