A coming-of-age memoir. I have a wild story to share. Some of it I remember, some of it I think I remember, and some of it exists thanks to a hoarder-like collection of memorabilia.
Welcome to the first draft of my life.
author’s note: it has taken me years to get to the point where i can openly talk about my childhood- and i still struggle to admit or remember many things. i thought it best to start with the timeline. as i blog, i sift through every scrap of paper and photograph i can find. i remember things in a flash but there are some spaces that remain dark and unattainable. i have interviewed family members. i try to make sense of the chaos and abuse, and struggle to find answers. my parents had disorders (depression, aspergers) but it is hard to understand their destructive path, and the family that watched us fall apart.