I probably should have added to the narrative that a large part of the reason that I did not see my grandparents was because at the time they lived over an hour away from me. So from eleven to sixteen, I did not see them, and I had very little contact with them. The moment I was sixteen and I got my hands on a car, I drove down to see them. I wanted to come live with them, but how can you explain to other people that hadn't been around the level of dysfunction that no one could comprehend?
Plus, I still felt this insane need to protect my mother.
So...I had my grandparents back, but the Terrorist was still in the picture. And I was sixteen years old.
Anyone remember what it was like to be sixteen? Suffice it to say it was not easy.