I was born to a drug addicted mother and a bipolar father. They got divorced when I was around the age of 3. I don't remember any of this. Apparently, they went to court, my father got custody of me. My grandparents fought to have full custody of me, and lost.

            [Already in my life, people are fighting over me... hmmm.]

My dad hates the grandparents, and only allows me to be with them for one weekend (Friday night through Sunday afternoon/evening), and for one full week out of the year (which my time with them is limited to the state of Oregon, and I am to not be around my mother).

           [Being restricted is something I got used to.]

As I grow up, my father decides to marry a woman. This womans name was Robin. A wonderful woman, very strong headed and snappy. She didn't like me. What I did is a mystery, all I knew is that she was not my mother (even though I barely knew who my mother was). I guess I was a bad child because my friendships were somewhat restricted to only certain kids; I got grounded almost on a bi-monthly basis; I was never allowed to have hair past my shoulders; I could only wear the clothes that others had picked out for me.

         [My taste back then probably wasn't the best, I admit.]

During the time (6 years) that it was just my father and I, we had gotten used to eachother and learned how to live well. I didn't know that everything he had ever taught me to be was wrong by this womans standards. I knew what that pretty much every thing I did was something more to get me into trouble. The along came Annie Lee Hunter. I can tell you now, that almost 20 years later I'm grateful for my amazing, talented, and beautiful sister. Back when she was born, I thought my dad was replacing me for being so bad. I thought that since I was always getting into trouble that he had got another girl so I could be thrown out. From our small apartment in SE Portland, we moved to a place 30 miles away called Rock Creek. During my 2nd grade year I was forced to have hair up to my ears. I was forced to eat nasty half microwaved food because I wasn't worth making a sandwhich for. I got locked out of the house on a constant basis just because I forgot my key; or because Robin was sleeping and didn't hear me at the door. Another amazing and fun reason was because she would forget that I was coming home. They gave me a house key. I'm sorry but first off, kids lose EVERYTHING! Not a smart idea, and letting a 2nd grader walk home from school 6 blocks, and leave them at the house alone for whatever periods of time? Not a good year for me. Robin once yelled at me for something I didn't do, Annie was crying and Robin automatically assumed I had hurt my sister, (that's what she thought everytime Annie cried, I was constantly getting in trouble for it). I turned around and started to talk away after I defended myself and telling her I did nothing, she grabbed me and slapped me as hard as she could across the face.

            [Not all abuse is physical.]


After her birth, I no longer had all my possessions. All my toys because her chew things, I was forced to share some pogs that I had won that day at school with her. Not just some, but all of them because I threw a fit. I had just won those in a tournament at recess. In 3rd grade that means something, and then she comes along and takes my hard earned prize and gives it to that drool covered slobbering cry-baby?!

       [I think I still have some issues about this.]