My life story. (Pt 1)
<Introduction>
Well, I've decided to open up, and tell everyone a little bit more about myself. This will be in parts (I don't know how many). I warn you now to read this at your own risk, as I will be fairly truthful, and this may change the way you look at me... blah-de-blah... and all that. Pretty much, it's in the past. If you read it and you feel the need to bring some of this stuff up with me, I may ignore you as it is the past and still hurts, or I just wish to forget it. Either way...
</Introduction>
<Chapter id="1" title="The Early Years">
Thus starts my life.
The majority of my first memories are happy ones. Memories of playing in the neighbor's field, memories of going to the beach, going to kindy, reading my new book to the principal at 5 yrs old, air-rifle practice, my best friend's house by the river, tom's dairy farm, those sorts of memories. Then there are weird memories. Things like my first phone number (I was in kindy) 097 20 12 79, a vague memory of something I'm not sure even happened, telling my dad how to put a gearbox back together, and watching my best friend get shot in the knee with bird shot. Those are the 2 types of memories I try to hold on to.
But then there is the third type. The memories of the bush fire raging past my house missing by only 20m, hearing my mum cry every night and not knowing why, finding a dirty mag under my dad's bed, going to family reunions and never fitting in, saying goodbye to my father in year 3. Those, and more, are the memories that have shaped me. They have brought out the best, and worst in me. And every day, I wish that they'd never happened. These things I would never wish upon my worst enemy.
I never thought it would be this hard... to open up.
I spent my first years in Harvey, a small country town in WA's great south-west. I lived on a small forest break called "East break rd". We were the only people living on that road, and it was 2 km long (I think). As a child, I used to love playing with lego, listening to my dad's stereo (using headphones), and playing in our neighbor's paddock next door. I was a kid who could never sit still, who loved everything life threw at me, and was extremely talkative. *reflects* Then I got burnt. My dad was a guy who had a few great ideas. He was a practical guy, loved having a good time, but also loved the alcohol a bit too much. One of his great ideas was a pen machine. He made a rig up using conventional power tools to perfectly fashion a few blocks of wood into a marvelous pen and pen box gift set. One of the problems with using a conventional wood lathe is that you can never get the ends perfect to match the metal tips, and even if you did, you would bruise the wood in the process. He overcame this... Smart guy hey? Not smart enough to keep off the booze though. Mum had enough of him one day, and off she went.
Mum stayed at her friend's place in town, and we still went to school. Mum put a restraining order on dad, but dad kept us kids. Anyway, a few days later, mum picked us up from school. She had gained custody of us, and we didn't see dad for a week. I always hated mum for taking me from dad, but now I reflect on it, I'm kind of glad she did it. We stayed in Harvey for a while, then we moved into a women's refuge in Bunbury.
By year 3 I had heard my dad hurt my mum, physically and verbally, seen my friend get shot by bird shot, almost got killed by a bush fire, and lost trust in almost every person I knew.
From Bunbury, we moved to another women's refuge in Nollamarra. This time, we went to school. I hated this school. Every kid was a stuck-up snob. Every one of them looked down on me. Who knew kids in yr3 could be so harsh?
From there mum rented a place in Gosnells, not 2 minutes from where I live now. I went to Wirrabirra PS to finish off Year 3 & 4. This school had it's fair share of bullies too. This was one of the first times dad tried to contact us. He lied to us through the teeth. He sat on the phone with both me and my brother, and lied to us! Even now, that hurts me. That a father could lie, blatantly lie to his 8 year old son without remorse. This is the same time that I got my first computer, had my first crush, had my first kiss, and sprained my first ankle. At the end of year 4, we left Perth, and moved to Narrogin to be close to my grandparents.
Thus ends "The Early Years".
</Chapter>
