Member-only story
TRIGGER WARNING: Neglect, abuse, addiction, self harm, violence and drug use!
I have always enjoyed writing. As a kid I would sit in front of our huge old school monitor that was probably a solid foot in length, you know, the REAL old school PC’s with the dial up connection? I would sit for hours writing and writing these short stories about everything and anything, and then forcibly drag my mother and stepfather down the hall to come and read my 8 year old brilliance. Now, I would do anything to re-read these stories, as this time in my life was more then turbulent and I imagine that in some way, writing these stories was a way to escape my life or process what was happening around me. Don’t worry, there will be more on these turbulent events later..we don’t want to start on the heavy, it would probably scare you off.
This love naturally progressed in school to a love of reading and writing stories, and I would wait patiently every year for the “Write a book competition” to come around, although I never managed to actually win. Fast forward to my adult life and I have journal apon journal filled to the very last pages of diary entries, quotes, rambles and the occasional rant to let off some steam. For a time, I was unknowingly documenting my fall into a deep pit of an LSD and sleep deprivation induced psychosis. Fun times. Even before I had my own laptop, I remember…