Douglas Coupland Was Right

Douglas Coupland was right. All families are Psychotic.

I’m going to tell you a little bit about my family. Normally you wouldn’t care about a stranger’s family however, this family is quite unique…. look and see.

My father. Seventy year old car salesman. Born in Scotland to an affluent family. Military father. Younger brother, older sister. He’s partied hard since the 60s.  He keeps a bottle of vodka in his car to take the odd swig of. Always wears a button up shirt where he unbuttons half of them. He has in the past had a temper issue. He once kicked the bumper off a truck because it drove too close to him. Womanizer. Women love him even now. Always had multiple girlfriends at a time. First wife they separated, shortly thereafter she committed suicide. Second wife (my mother) they divorced in the 90’s. He’s with an evil shrew of a woman now that he refuses to marry. He’s done a lot of drugs, drank a lot, had a lot of sex and indiscretions but when he was saddled with a two year old toddler that he had no clue what to do with, he stepped up, became Mr. Mom. Laundry, dishes, cooking…. he did it all for me. He always supported his family no matter what. I wish we were still close. Thanks Shrew. 

My Mother – a history of mental problems (I really resent having gotten some of them) in her family with a very intelligent yet psychotic suffragette mother and a very wealthy east Indian lawyer father that worked closely with Gandhi. Her first husband was a younger American from the south, they divorced and had a custody battle over my older sister. Second husband (My father, see above). A selfish human being with good intentions, she spent the majority of her adulthood being a bad alcoholic. I am haunted by being left in a car at 6 months while she passed out drunk in a bar, being told I killed her by hiding her alcohol at 5 years old and being left on a street corner with my suitcase while she forgot me and went to Disneyland by herself. She’s 65 now, sober for over 10 years but still insane. They don’t let her in the U.S. for a 70, 000 dollar government fraud charge yet I have to show her why her Samsung isn’t ringing. She’s a good grandmother though.

Two sisters. Both well off. Both married with children. Twelve and thirteen years older than me. One is a enigmatic business woman with my same sense of humor and a social anxiety disorder. I miss her and wish she lived closer. The other is an aloof housewife that we all struggle to be close to. We have children the same age so I wish we were close.

Aunt- totally loveable and normal.

Uncle- died young from ALS. From what a remember he was a very sweet and hilarious man.

My husband- a 25 year old southern American (sound familiar?) with a problem with drugs, lying and anger. He used to rap. I kind of believe he has Explosive Interruptive Disorder. TBD. Nevertheless a sweet kind hearted man that showed me more love than I thought possible. We are struggling right now but I have faith in him.

I’ve adopted through the years a mother and father from Ohio, a brother from New York, sister from here in town and many cousins from around the world. Honorary titles.

I have two sons. Both of them I was not a fan of when they were born. One is two and one is only a few months old. Now though…. now I’m in love. My oldest is the light of my life, my heart and soul and he is what I live for. My youngest is still new but man he’s cute and a little darling. What I hope for them is everything I didn’t get, some things I did and above all I want them to follow their hearts even at their own peril.

I have disdain for bloggers

It’s one of those prejudices I haven’t come to terms with yet. Eventually I seem to find acceptance for most groups of people that previously I hold in extreme and sometimes illogical contempt. But as of right now, Bloggers aren’t on my list of people I have crazy respect for. I may lump them in with this crazy culture of media whores that is engulfing our entire generation of young people.


So why start blogging?

God I don’t know. Boredom? Some mental defect that causes me to spew out my opinions and feelings in a random and constant manner? This deep urge to write and this deeper feeling like I am or should be good at it? Postpartum depression that keeps nipping at my heels right now?

But, then how can you still feel the way you do about bloggers? I mean, isn’t that hypocritical?

Yes. I am a hypocrite. Darn tootin’. (First time I have ever said or written darn tootin’ by the way)

Why would anyone want to read what you write though?

I don’t think they will? I mean, I’m not sure even if I want them to. I’ve always been really out there and public about somethings (see my Facebook page…) but very private about others… and if I start writing….well…. historically it’s a warts and all type situation. But. If someone reads what I write and thinks, ‘wow that’s weird or different but I GET it’, maybe it’s some sort of closure on my crazy crazy past and that I have some worth as a writer? I care way too much what people think to be honest.

Well… what if you aren’t a good writer?

*sigh* You had to go and ask me that to put doubts in my head right? Maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m not. But I do know this: I have written things in these dark and perhaps twisted moments of my life that I looked at in the morning and it did then and still does move my soul. Honestly, truly… I write for me.

Why not keep a diary then? Instead of a blog.

It’s more real if I’m not the only one reading it. I’ll hold myself to a higher standard. Maybe I’ll move someone else, you never know.


Yes I can interview myself at a moment’s notice. I’m crazy. And I’m not sure I want to pay $18 for a .com. Free is my friend right now. Stay with me…stay.