I am a thirteen year old girl living in a world of mental health drug abuse and money struggles. My mother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder two years ago and since then I have been staying with my grandfather and little sister while she is in a mental health hospital attempting to get on some stable medication that will hopefully even out her ups and downs. My father has been out of the picture since I was three years old. He was an abusive, angry man who would frequently hit and threaten my mother in front of me. Some of my earliest memories involve being taken home in a police car after my father got particularly violent. Me and my mother managed fine for many years with a string of her needless boyfriends left behind us. When she met my sisters father he was the perfect man. Lots of money, tattoos and a passion for dogs. Little did my mother know he had a history of drug about that would come back to haunt him once my sister was born and he once again fell into the grasp of drugs which lead to his unfortunate death after he choked on his own vomit while "flying high" so to speak. I live a fairly normal life now and don't like to get caught up in the past. I now have a loving boyfriend and more friends than I could wish for. Each day I'm grateful that I have my health and purpose. It's more than what some others have.