Let's see, I met my real father when I was ten and they put me on a plane to Vegas and said, "Here's your dad." I stayed for a month in a place I'd never been with a man I'd never met before. The year before that I walked down the basement stairs to see my stepfather standing on a chair with a noose hanging from a pipe above him. I hated him so much that I turned around, went upstairs and never said a word. Too bad he was too chicken to follow through. On top of this my parents are deaf mutes, and my step-father went to prison for sexual assault ( a stranger he kidnapped) that same year. I got to make all the phone calls to the lawyers because my mom and step dad couldn't use a phone. Let me repeat: I was 9 years old. My mom let him live back in the house when he got out of prison. I moved out of the house with my sister who was 18 at the time because I refuse to live with a rapist. I was 12. This is just the tip of the iceberg. So it's not difficult to explain a thing to me about what it's like to have a parent not make you remotely a priority.