When you're running with scissors, you're bound to fall

I am reading a captivating book called running with scissors by Augusten Burroughs, and though this book is captivating, at most points I find myself repelled by the story line to an extent only thought possible by sleeping on a mound of dead bodies. For instance, at one point in the book, Augusten (the book is a memoir) is just walking home from school, when he opens up his door and low and behold, his mother is having sexual intercourse with another woman. An average day. I feel repelled by this not because that well, it actually happened to him, but because he glances at them and then says "can I borrow five bucks mom?" just the calm composure he keeps disgusts me a little, and I had to put the book down for a day, but I soon realized as repelling as it may be, the book is amazing, so I am back to reading it happily. It seems that every paragraph a new thing comes up, that either disgusts me, or makes me wonder how this boy lived his life so well. One point, Augusten is just sitting around in a doctors house, a doctor who is treating his mom because his mom is declared crazy, and the doctor's daughters just decide to hook each other up to  a shock therapy machine, they fry their brains, yell at Augusten, and then shock their dog to death. I can't bear the thought of this happening to an innocent dog, is just bad. Plain bad. The casualness of which all these events happen, and then the fact that it's a memoir, just repels me. I think I am repelled by it because of how unfamiliar all this is. I myself could never kill my dog, I love her to much. Oh by the way, Augusten's mom is not lesbian. She's married.