Are our childhoods supposed to be full of fond memories?if so i never had one. I was born into a loving upper middle class family as the youngest child and the only boy. life was pretty uneventful and easy going until my dad decided to change careers.
one night when i was three years old my mother and father got in a fight my father under the influence and he hit my mother thus ending my short but sweet childhood. From then on my life was a stress filled nerve shattering hell. my mother my two older sisters(9 & 5yrs old) and I moved every three years or so all over West Point Grey, Vancouver but never changing elementary schools. during my early years of elementary school i was a mildly violent kid with a plethora of different behavioural problems from fighting to not listening to leaving school grounds for hours on end. eventually i lost the freedom to go outside at recess because i couldn't be trusted to stick around or play nice.
I mainly sought attention because i received zero at home. my mother was working upwards of 70 hours a week to support my sisters at private school and I but in doing so i was left alone, a lot. I craved attention but the only attention i received was from social workers and the principle. i didnt see much of my father, every couple months if i was lucky he would make an appearance for a couple hours and those were the beat couple hours of the year. Regardless of the neglect, bad choices made, and abusiveness of my father i still loved him more than anyone in the world.
my mother kept him loosely updated on my school troubles, about the fights and about bad. behaviour.
