Intro to my online diary book.

First and for most I would like to start off by saying this is all true, everything I say in here will not be fake. This is my story, and this is my life.

I made this story because I was told it would be a good cooping method to write down about my life and frankly I've tried to write in a diary multiple times but I usually just throw them away. I've been writing on Wattpad for about 2-3 years, and my favorite thing to see is my stories impacting others lives. I've thought writing about my life before but never attempted till now.

I don't really know how this will go because I've never really liked to tell anyone my person business before unless I felt comfortable with it. But honestly, I have no life and for some odd reason I feel comfortable telling this with the Internet.

I won't change the names of the people in this book because I'll end up slipping and putting there name in there by accident, so unless someone asks me to change there name I will post that I have to change it. The only names I will change however, will be the ones I talk bad about. Just so I don't get sued....

last thing I'll say is I will try to update every other Thursday or Tuesday.

All I can say is some of the things in this story are sad. May need a trigger warning, and I hope you enjoy.

June 6th 2001 – The Floridian

Yes, this is when I was born, I was born in Texas, San Antonio, but I lived there for what I think was only one or two years. My mother, Sarah (Why does everyone think she's white because her name is Sarah? She's B-L-A-C-K) ,moved me to Florida where I would spend the rest of my life, so I'm more of a Floridian than I ever was Texan. My mother say's I'm Indian, but she doesn't know if I'm actually American Indian from India. But I'm pretty sure that's a lie because my birth certificate says she's African-American. My dad is mostly German but I'm pretty sure I have Swedish in me.

My parents were never married and quickly broke up after I was born. Mostly because my mom is freaking psycho and stabbed my dad in the neck. Needless to say she lost parental rights over me and was TPR-ed (Taken parental rights) at my early age. My mom started having a drinking problem, and also a lying problem too. My dad became a drug dealer and quickly became addicted to the drugs he was selling.

March 23rd 2011 – Homelessness

My dad stopped paying bills and focused mainly on drugs. They stopped the air-conditioning, Electricity, and water and we soon got evicted. And I was, for the first time, Homeless. We stayed in hotels, others homes, and so on. It was a really rough time and I almost failed 7th grade because of this 2- year madness. My dad was doing the best that he could and I know to this day he tried to be a good father, but addiction is something hard to overcome. I knew he had the power to do it, but he just never tried hard enough. And I've come to realize that I've made this tough exterior were I'm to the point that because I'm in foster care that I don't care about my parents, and I've said all these nasty things like "Oh they can suck it." And "They were never there for me so I don't care about them." But lately I thought. What if they died today? And I realized deep down inside that no matter what they have done, passed the cocaine addiction, passed the drinking, passed EVERYTHING that, there still my parents, and I still love them, no matter how hard I tried to deny it.