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Uprooted

At the beginning of this year I never could have predicted what happened in my own little slice of life. I was your average middle aged woman, working at a grocery, tending to my kids. My life wasn't perfect by any means but we fared well enough as I tried to manage my own mental health. I have heard of events causing a series of events. I had never really seen it clearly happen until this very long year. In March just before the pandemic began in full, my parents announced they were divorcing. This didn't bother me very much. My father is very narcissistic and abused me in several ways growing up in such way that at 30 I am still overcoming. The family began to fall apart. My brothers and I were at odds. Our parents trying to pull us over to sides. All the "fun" parts of a typical divorce. Tensions grew. In July we had our first family gathering since the news. A fight arose and people said horrible things. One brother, under orders of my Father, tried to take my children from my care. I lost my mind for a while. The family fractured even more. I shook myself off and with the aide of legal knowledge and my therapist behind me, I got my children back with ease. They were both shaken and confused. With noticeable signs of neglect from being in my brothers care. Then yet another bombshell dropped and everything began to make sense. The man I knew to be my father....wasn't my father. The family fractured beyond repair.