My story is not a happy one, my story is one that is filled with painful memories and that there are so many things in my life that have destroyed every inch of myself. My earliest memory can be seen as a dark night with flashing lights. I'm being escorted outside by police when I'm 6 years old after my commits suicide. I still remember the image as the police pushed me out, and the blood. I remember being outside and sometimes the numbness of it still chokes me up, that the earliest thing in my life that can be remembered is the death of my father.
However, there was still his funeral to attend to, I remember burying him somewhere in Texas, he was cremated, and we lost contact with that part of my family, I do regret not having been able to find them. I still know somewhere out there in Texas is my father's grave I've seen it only once but I suppose I should at least see it again. After the pain of all of this happening I was uprooted from my home in Alaska and placed me in what I had strong hopes would be a normal childhood, that's all I ever wanted. But alas children are so cruel, telling me in the cafeteria at school that my father was in hell, these same people who will have everything in their life given to them because of who they are friends with.
I think that shall suffice for now, I will write more at a later time.
