God, I am so sorry you guys.
My mom suffered from undiagnosed depression (it was called “Women’s hysteria” in those days) and she drank too much, off and on. One day she’d be fine, then out of the blue she’d lose her shit. You never knew when it was going to happen. It got to the point that I’d get off the bus and stand there staring at the house, wondering what I’d be walking into. She was raised Catholic and, oddly enough, you could depend on her to have a “conniption fit” (What we all called it) on Easter Sunday. Had a big splat of a jelly stain on the ceiling for the longest time from when she lost her shit one Easter, during breakfast, shrieking and screaming, and threw the jelly jar straight up, as hard as she could.
However, we had a good father, although he was somewhat emotionally distant.
There were 3 of us. Two of us are OK, for the most part. The third got into drugs and alcohol and sex from a young age. She has the same problems that Mom had. Then she got born again, quit drinking, and got even worse!
She never married, and never had kids, thank God. She now lives up in the mountains with some Christian couple. She works as a spiritual mentor people who are on hospice care. She’s 54.