another depression

I am so tired of getting depressed! I really should be use to it by now since they started when I was app. 5 y/o. My very first memory is of a big fight between my mama and daddy(really my 1st stepdad) one hot summer day. The whole neighborhood could hear them fighting because no a/c so all the windows and doors were open. I was playing outside with the neighbor's granddaughter and I heard my daddy say he was gonna kill my mama. They were in us kid's bedroom and the shade was pulled down to within 3-4" from the sill. I looked in to see what was happening and my daddy had my mama pinned to the wall and he had his machete up under her neck. If it hadn't been for my Granny walking in the front door and yelling my mama's name he just may have killed her. That's just an early memory and not that bad when compared to others.
My mother turned out to be a serial wife...she's been married and divorced 6 times. Some were worse than others. My 2nd stepfather molested me for 2 years beginning at age 10. The 1st one not only beat my mother but all of us kids too. There are 4 of us kids and I'm the oldest. She had 4 babies in 4 years so I got pushed to the side at 15 months. I was made to grow up very early and am still like a second mother to my 2 youngest siblings. She started leaving me alone to care for them when I was 8. That's when she and my 1st stepfather divorced. He found someone to replace her when she couldn't get pregnant anymore. That's also when I was told that he wasn't my daddy. Since I hadn't seen my daddy or his family since I was 4 I have no memory of them. So, I never knew my paternal grandmother because she died when I was 4. My stepfather didn't think I needed a relationship with my dad so he wasn't allowed to see me. I met him one month before I turned 13 at my Grandfather's funeral. My mama had already divorced number 3 and was engaged to Jim by then. He was the only man she was ever with that was good to all of us. He was kind and thoughtful and unbeknownst to any of us very depressed.
One month after grandaddy died mama and Jim went out with friends and of course were drunk when they got home. They were arguing about I don't know what but my mother in true form took her ring off and threw it at him and told him she didn't love him and he could die for all she cared.. All was quiet after that and us kids went back to sleep. The next morning was a Saturday and I was scheduled to walk in a March of Dimes walk-a-thon. I walk out the front door at 7 am and it's March 20, 1975 and cold. It's a week after my 13th birthday. There on the grass beside the stairs is Jim. He's lying on his side wide his arm under his head and for all the world looking as if he's asleep. That is until I touched him to wake him up. He felt like cold marble. I ran to our next door neighbors to get them for help because I knew I couldn't be the one to tell mama. An ambulance was called and that's when the 2 empty bottles of Darvon(my mother's) were found on the curb where he'd thrown them. Then he laid down and went to sleep and never woke up. My mama had known he was depressed. He'd been looking for a job and kept getting rejection letters. She KNEW how depressed he was and yet she still threw his ring at him and told him she didn't love him! I know he made the decision to end his own life but she couldn't think about someone else for a change. She only thought of herself once again. I've obviously never forgiven her for taking away the best father figure we ever had. As I got older I was able to be angry at him too for leaving us. I think that's because I've been there so many times, starting when I was just 10 years old and her husband was molesting me up to 4 nights a week. He threatened to kill her and my sibs in front of me if I ever told. And he said no one would believe me in the first place. So I suffered in silence. I actually had to end up offering myself to him so he wouldn't touch my baby sister who was 6. My mother swears she knew nothing because she was on meds that made her sleep. My behavior changed but she didn't notice. She didn't see because she didn't want to see. She always put men before us and never protected us. The depressions got worse after Jim died but my mother never took me for help. She was too busy helping herself and I'll never forgive her for that.
My arms are hurting and I can't type anymore. I've cried so much while writing this that I'm going to go back to bed. Sleeping is the only way to escape the pain...inside and out. They say writing your feelings down will help. Well we will just have to see if that's true this time.