It's nice seeing people able to share their stories. Most people don't get a chance to talk about how they got to where they are, and it's nice to see a community that's so accepting. I'd like to share my own personal story as well...
When I was born, I was born with several defects to my heart and digestive tract. My first four years of life were spent in and out of the hospital, as any event that would get me upset had the danger of stopping my heart. We spent most of the time living with my grandparents on my fathers side, and both my mother and father worked. After a specifically stressful incident, my father finally gave up the ghost and left. It was too stressful for him to deal with work and knowing what was happening on a daily basis.
After that, we moved around a lot. My mother tried becoming a accountant, And got a computer. I can remember playing these old games on it after I got home from daycare. That computer was my favorite thing - the act of controlling this tiny character back and forth entertained me for hours, and has led to much of my love of computers today. Then she met a man, my stepfather. I was four at the time, and he came from a post-depression family. His father was a military man and a crab fisherman, and ruled the house by might. He believed children should be neither seen nor heard, which ended me up becoming a very introverted child. I preferred reading or drawing to other activities, and had a lot of trust issues with both teachers and other kids.
As I got older, I got more rebellious(as all kids do) and began pushing against my parents. I had been a B student across the board up until this point, but my stepfather constantly loved to sit across the table and have long slurred speeches about how if I wasn't a A student, I'd never go anywhere. I ended up giving completely up on subjects I didn't care about. When I brought home my report card, I had done well in everything, with the exception of French, which at the time I didn't see the point of. He gave me a black eye and bruised my arms and ribs - my gym teacher ended up calling Social Services on him, but he lied and told them that I had been jumped by a bully. This was the early ninties, so that case with the woman spanking the child in the parking lot hadn't happened yet. They commented that it was suspicious, but there was no other signs of previous abuse, and closed the case. From then on, he was much more careful.
The introversion from that point on collapsed. I spent most of my lunch hours in the library on the computers, and when I got home I'd disappear into the computer again. I had a site up on freewebs(I think, it's been too long) and I spent most of my hours preening over it.(On a dialup connection, no less. Ah, the days before DSL)My school suffered, but I never dropped out. If I cared about a class, I gave it my all, but my record became all over the place. Things escalated with my stepfather(he saw the grade slippage as direct rebellion) and I attempted to commit suicide. Fortunately, I was rescued by a gentleman who happened to be walking in the park that evening, and he cut me down and phoned 911. I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital as a risk.
At this point, my stepfather saw a opening. He decided that I would become my father's problem, and took it upon himself to get rid of all of my belongings. My mother had been staying local to where I was, and brought me home to find that not only were all my things gone, but he had gone and converted what was my room into part of his downstairs workshop. I ended up staying with my grandparents for a few weeks while they fought it out, and eventually my mother gave in - they got in touch with my father.
In the intervening years, my father had not been doing so well. He had been battling hypoglycemia, and loosing. Subborn, he refused to change his lifestyle, and it was immobilizing him. he got out on medical grounds, meaning I bounced between my mothers and my grandparents. Eventually, the disease got the better of him, and he passed away. In the one act of kindness my stepfather EVER showed me, he allowed me to move back in and eased up. We still fought, but it no longer got violent. I like to think he started seeing what was going on, but it's more reasonable mom held him hostage somehow.
I graduated, and set out. I had nothing saved, as the town we lived in was a collection of 100 buildings and a lake, so I moved in with friends and started working at a call center. That fell through fast, and soon enough I found myself living out of my car at the park. I found out that the police would be alright with it as long as I was gone before dawn, and I was still looking for work. I eventually got contacted by a friend who lived down south, and after living with her and her boyfriend for a bit, I met my wife. I tried to go to college(A flare up of medical issues and hospitalizations caused me to drop out) but I now have a family, and things are starting to look up. I've been working on a team for some IOS Projects as a java programmer, and it sounds like one is finally taking off.
If anything, it's taught me that if you perservere through the hardships, good things happen.
