I was born in 2001. For most people, that would be the start and end of their childhood. Being born, having a little drama with their parents at teen age. And then completing high school. I didn't have that life, I didn't have a lot of the comfortable things people had. I grew up in a broken family, left to put myself back together. This is my life.
Before I was born. my biological father and my mom got together. But it was shortly before my birth, that things were already wrong. My biological father had his life set, could of gone to collage. Had the funds to do it. But, he fucked his life with a party. Getting into crack cocaine at the party. My mother at the time had devised funds for my future for collage. And somewhere in between, my biological father became a child molester.
To say the most, all of that went to shit. The two broke up right after I was born, what cash my terminally ill mother had set aside for me was robbed. And thus began the shaky start of my life.
I cannot remember all of what happened from 1-4. Only pieces and fragments, what little my mind can grasp over across all the trauma I've experienced. I remember a point that we, my mom and I were together at my grand parents house.According to my mom, there was a time where we where homeless and slept in the car. I remember a point that there was a time period that I'm only briefly aware of that she was not in my life for several months. I can only suppose now that was her period of time being booted from the house, so my grand parents could look after me, and only had enough for my safety and not hers. I then briefly remember a daycare, which I would assume is when my mom was able to find the apartment complex we stayed in. I was spoiled with whatever semblance of happiness she could give me. Likely guilt for not seeing me for nearly the whole day while I was at day care.
To clarify by terminal illness. My mother had Guillain-Barré Syndrome. This resulted in her immune system being weak at all times and loosing most feeling in her left arm. If I where to get sick, she would get it as well.
apparently around four months old. My mom and I became severely ill. I ended up having a exceptionally high fervor, leaving a lesion or scar in my brain.
Moving on, around five to six. There was a period of time where my soon to be stepfather was with my mom. At the time, my mom was at times badly drunk along with him. Not to her own fault as well... her own childhood is it's own story. And sadly, plays a act in mine as well.
Now at the time, when I was 4-5 I was a kid, and spoiled. So of course, you would have to acted strongly towards me. However... there's a point that gets obsessive....
Now between 4 and 7. I was bouncing between my biological father and my mom. As at the time both still had custody over me. And the condition being that as long as my biological father pulled nothing funny. He could see me for two days on the weekends. That ended at age 7. As while he didn't do that implied thing. He did force me to watch porn. And when I mean force I mean, was unable to leave the room, and he would pause it if I wasn't looking. He told me not to tell my mom.
However, I wasn't stupid. It took me days to mull over to tell my mom or not. It was one parental figures word over another. I must add that my mom told me at some point that my father was aloof. Or not to be trusted. Eventually, I told her, going under the basis that if it wasn't wrong, my mom would agree. The end result of that was a restraining order, and him loosing a majority of his custody, and me being more often at my stepfathers. End of my life story right?
If only that could of been...
(it's emotionally draining for me to write this. As I'm trying to get as a conclusive picture as possible. But there's a lot of moving parts to my life. A lot of things that went horrendously wrong.)
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