From childhood

I really can't remember anything good from my childhood from 10 years of age and below. The only things I can remember is terrible and monstrous abuse. Time to get a little dark. My birth mother (which I have disowned) was a drug addict (PCP), alcoholic and extremely poor. She was extraordinarily abusive. We moved place to place in just a few weeks to months. We lived with strangers who she did drugs with or fucked so we can stay there.

 I was a bad kid growing up, bullying, stealing, and smoking old cigarettes I found on the ground, all under the age of 10. For a time that we lived in a trailer park in Grants Pass, Or., it was named King something. I lived in a camper trailer with no water or bathroom, there was a public bathroom and showers that I had to use. Its a wonder I wasn't abducted or worse. My bed was a fold down piece of wood that was attached to the ceiling. I had a pillow and blanket I guess cant remember. I remember that being one of the longest places that I've lived in. I lived in LA, CA in the ghetto, I remember it having bars on the windows and doors. My birth mother was kind of a hippy. She would only eat healthy food that tasted terrible. She never used seasonings. Some of you might say "Well that's great she is looking out for your health." No, for months at time we would eat mixed beans that were cooked in a crock pot, no flavor...just beans. My birth mother would beat me on the regular for no reason, sometimes because she would just get too drunk and high. Luckily one night she had beat me so bad my bruises and scratches could be seen outside of my shirt. I had cuts/bruises all on my neck and my back.

One of the teachers (for what I gathered because of memory loss/blackout) called child services and I remember I got to spend a year with a Foster Mother. Her name was Della and she had 4 other foster children. That was the happiest most stable part of my childhood. She really cared for me like a mother should. After the year had past my birth mother got me back. Fast forwarding after more abuse, I went to see my step-mother, I was almost 10. My case worker for child services had called and told my step mother to keep me until my father is released from prison. My father. He spent most of my childhood in prison. My father has been married 3 times. My step mother had been around since I was 2 years old. She had remained more of a mother than my birth mother will ever be. I will tell you the story why my birth mother has this title another time.