A Life Of Picking Sides In Losing Battle Analysis

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A Life of Picking Sides in Losing Battles My dad was a cop and my mom was a bartender who smoked pot. I like to use that line when asked about my parents. It’s also a good summation if asked about my childhood.
“What were the best and worst parts of your day?” My mom asked me and my sisters at dinner when we were kids. We always joked, “Being here with my family.” It wasn’t an acceptable answer for either part of the question. I hated that part of dinner. But for the rest of my life, past the age of five, I couldn’t even answer the question with that sarcastic response, because my whole family wouldn’t be there together again. I now, at 22, long for that nightly moment.
I was 5 years old and home from morning Kindergarten. I was playing
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My sisters Leah and Gabby had a similar situation going back and forth between their father’s and our mom’s houses. They decided that they didn’t want to live with our mother anymore. I wouldn’t know until I was 20, but apparently my mom had conversations about being suicidal with them. There must have been other reasons too, but they didn’t want to live in an environment with someone like that.
Presley and I idolized Leah and Gabby. It seemed that they were always having a good time. And they loved us. One night, while Leah was having a party at our house with her friends, I got sick and she prioritized my situation. She even stayed with me for a while to make sure that I fell asleep and wasn’t rolling around unable to do so.
Another time, Gabby was having a party, and even though she’s 6 years older than I am, she let me hang out with her and her friends that day. They all went kayaking, and although my mom said I couldn’t go, Gabby took me out on the creek with her. I got into trouble, but I didn’t incriminate
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At some point when I was 13 years old, I was standing against the wall of a courthouse hallway. I stood thoughtlessly and somewhat saddened, yet emotionless and jaded at the same time. I was awaiting the results of court proceedings regarding custody. A few months earlier Presley and I were in our mom’s apartment and Presley had found marijuana in Trystan’s room. Trystan was four years old. Both of our fathers were looking for a solid maneuver to get full custody of their respective children. My mom was at work that night. I don’t remember much. I know our sister Gabby was called by Presley, who called our dad too. She then called the police. I remember that call being made from our room, as I watched from the living room where I stood frozen for the whole thing. I suppose I weighed my options. Trystan’s dad would get custody of her. Sean and my dad had no qualms, so if I went to live with my dad that was my best chance of getting to see Trystan. My dad would get full custody of Presley at the very least. My best chances of seeing my sisters was by going to live with my dad, which I was already leaning towards. It seemed like time flew by as I stood there. The next moment my dad was at the door with a police officer. As we left the apartment I imagined my mom getting home from work with no kids to come home to. I was sad for

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