I guess you could say that. My family dynamic was very dysfunctional growing up. On the outside, it looked perfectly normal--good even. But on the inside it was very difficult. In a nutshell, besides the ridiculous, drawn out four-year divorce of my parents, and the numerous disastrous financial decisions that resulted in us moving four times and four years, AND the alcoholism and absence of my father, I (in retrospect) think my mom was mentally ill and undiagnosed. I think my sister became her codependent. I was stuck growing up with these two volatile, twin-star crazy people. On top of that, I'm adopted, and a TOTALLY different personality type than my mom and my sister (read: weird). I ended up putting myself in therapy through a few crazy maneuvers at school. I regret nothing. It had to happen. I went to therapy for four years, starting when I was 15. Three times a week, three hours a day. More on family-therapy days. I was not going down with that ship. Things have gotten better over the years, but I had some years of real desperation as a kid. I still sometimes find myself flinching in certain situations. It's so wild when that happens because I realize that some of the old sickness peeling away and I feel a little bit better.