My mom gave birth to me piss drunk. Her stomach had to be pumped before I arrived at 10:44am. From the age 1-3 I was neglected along with my other siblings. I was starved, colicky, and around hardcore drugs. My mom and dad were busted for drug abuse when I was 3 1/2, so my brother (barely age 1) and myself were taken out of the house my cops and given to different foster homes. I was then moved to several other foster homes, and at the age 6-7 I was physically and emotionally abuse at one time. I was then moved again just to be adopted and then unadopted, sent to a military school then hospital then crisis unit then Goodwill Hinckley and then a family focus, then finally reunited with my father. That didn't turn out to well, because we began to fight and the cops were called many times. I have also tried to commit suicide multiple times. I am diagnosed with PTSD and Reactive Attachment Disorder of Infancy and Early Childhood, and I might possibly be Bipolar like my mom. I have moved in with some of my friends at some point but along the way I've been broken and humiliated. You want to know how old I am now? 15. Just turn in November 2011. I live in a foster home that's "okay" now but I fear that I will never be complete again. I have many times seen people with their real families, and wonder "I wonder what that feels like?"
But I guess I'll never know. I have been through a lot and try not to think about it. I don't look for pity parties or anyones kind words. I just wanted to tell MY story because some people need to understand that what they have isn't as bad as they could have it. Thank you for reading this. (: Keep smiling. x