When I was born, my mom, from what i hear now from my older cousin, started rocking back and forth and became autistic after she had me. My brother was born 7 years before me. When I was three, apparently my mom had lost it, and divorced my dad. She moved away, and by away I mean more than halfway across the country. She landed in Illinois, where she met my soon to be stepfather, named Dennis. I went to see her every summer until I was ten, and that's when she ended her own life in Florida, while I was here in California with my dad. She stabbed herself in the heart while her mom was in the bathroom. My grandma came out, and there was my mother, bleeding and eventually passing away on the kitchen floor. I remember vividly, my dad propping up on his knees in a rocking chair, and telling me my mother was dead. I went into my brothers room, crying, and looked upon his face to see him crying. What a weird moment. i was ten, and did not understand. See, nobody had ever told me that she tried to kill herself 4 times before. That she was Bipolar and Manic-depressive. These details were kept hidden from me, to spare my young heart. A year later, my dad married a woman. This woman had two kids, they went to see their dad often, because he lived close, unlike my mother where contact was pretty much severed except for the summer when I went to see her those 7 years. This woman and I got into a little argument, which is when she told my "your mother was a stupid bitch for killing herself". I was eleven. Then she proceeded to hit me and watch my mouth out with soap, all while my father was gone. Then, he came to her defense when the drama unfolded into conversation. When i was sixteen, and in high school, i started missing school, living with my girlfriend. She cheated on me, I was left with nowhere to go, and I was sent to a boarding school in Utah. My stepmom wrote me a letter saying I'm so glad your there, and I hope your there until you're 18, that way your dad and I can have a relationship with you not screwing it up. After coming back, I got into drugs and alcohol. By the way, when my mom died, I was immediately put on all kinds of pills, at the age of 10! All kinds of psychiatry appointments and counselors, all kinds of pills to be put on. I was a kid, and now that I look back on it, it's like they were force fed to me. Screw those pills, they probably changed my chemical makeup from a very young age. I just feel like I got the short end of the stick, but fuck it, I'm good.