I wish to use the knowledge of my experiences to write a book about the traps of negativity

2003, I was about to start third grade when my mother came home with bruises on one side of her face. My father didn't come home that night, but within a couple days my grandmother showed up with an SUV and loaded me, my sister (4 years my senior), and my mother into it along with our stuff. We drove from British Columbia to Texas, staying with my grandparents who owned their own construction company that my mother began working administration for, as well as my aunt, her husband, and their children staying there as well.

A few months later, they hired a contractor. He was exceptionally handsome and charismatic, and my mother began spending more time with. I didn't pay too much attention, being 8 at the time. He became more connected to the adults in my family, ingratiating himself into my grandparents trust, gaining my mothers love, and befriending my aunt. Meanwhile, my father had been let out of jail for the spousal abuse charge and began launching multiple suits in attempts to reclaim my sister and I. My mother battled as much as she could afford, offering multiple ways for shared custody and visitation, but his objective was to ruin her financially, trapping her in legal costs and refusing to pay child support.

The construction company started failing after multiple issues with contractors and bidders on a project, my aunt moving to their own trailer a ways away and my mother, sister, and I taking the top story of the building that used to be the office on the same property as our grandparent's house. My mother was continually harassed by my father through court action, and she was pregnant. My youngest sister was born when I was 10, and the process had nearly killed my mother. The father was still involved, and we began meeting his clan, a son 5 years my senior and 3 daughters, parents, and brothers. It was around my sister's first birthday that he was let off his parole.

He soon became a different man, consistently high on some mixture of various uppers, downers, or narcotic. I didn't realize it at the time, but it was painfully obvious now that I know what to look for. I remember playing outside when I heard a scuffle coming from the downstairs office, and then my mom bursting out and running for the main house. He emerged soon after with a red face. It had turned out that he attempted to choke her, but she had managed to kick him in the face to break the hold. My grandfather yelled and threatened her if she called the police, because he was still a contractor in the project going downhill. Soon enough, he was arrested for filling my grandfather's prescriptions for his own use.

The grandparents had began their own legal battle for the company that eventually went bankrupt. They moved back to Canada, and we lived in the house for a while until they eventually sold it. Beginning of my 8th grade year, we moved from an acre-sized lot to an apartment, moving the majority of the stuff to the property of my sister's grandfather including construction equipment that was quite valuable. It was soon after that my mother married this man while he was in prison for legal residence, and I was the single witness to the "ceremony". My older sister was in her own state of misery, with few friends of her own. She eventually met a 20 year old on the internet, who moved in with us. It was a terrible influence, with his own anger problems that matched every other man in my life. I remember when I had tried to stop my little sister from escaping the mess she had just made in the kitchen, and he walked in while she was trying to squeeze past me, and his reaction was to pin me against the wall with his arm across my neck. Time feels a lot different when you can't breathe.

I was a asshole in middle school, but cocky kids were messed with less than quiet kids. School was never particularly hard for me, even if I was obnoxious, and spent a fair amount of time in ISS, and I never tried to apply myself either, instead glided along and found solace in video games at home. I was still the same when I started high school, around the same time that my step-father was let out on parole. When he is sober, he is an extremely intelligent, funny, witty, and enjoyable person that draws others to him, but used these skills to be extremely manipulative. Around my own friends, I was loud and abrupt and abusive like dumb kids tend to be. In that freshman year, we moved once more to a house almost next to my best friend at the time, and just down the street from his soon to be girlfriend.

That fall, my step father set me up with a friend of his as an apprentice mechanic. I was thrilled at the chance to learn a trade, and even getting paid 20$ on occasion. He had even "sold" me a stripped '79 Camaro for a dollar with a promise that we would rebuild it when a suitable engine came around. My mom and little sister, around 3-4, would come, and there was a man named Frank who owned the property the garage was on. I remember when a Mustang came in, and we took it for a test drive on an old dirt back road through trees going over 70 mph, when he took both hands off the wheel to put a cigarette in his mouth, light it, and then hit the curve in the span of seconds. I was simultaneously horrified and impressed while gripping whatever I could hold onto.

Frank would often watch my sister, and one day in the spring my world was shattered after she told my mother about Frank's "hairy worm". I was disgusted, putting blame in myself because I was the reason she was there, feeling like a failure of an older brother, and dreaming for years about ways to torture that piece of shit. I spent a week at school not saying a word, barely looking people in the eye, and shrugging people off until my friend's girlfriend finally pried it out of me. I told a couple other people who were close, and it permeated my social group. It didn't make a difference; I was still consumed by the occurrence. I became a different person, no longer the center of attention who had fun. I became much more reserved and withdrawn, caught in a cycle of self-doubt, blame, and anger.

I spent even more time as a high school hermit, allowing video games to distract me. I went out less and less, making excuses and bullshit reasons to continue my introverted reclusion. That was about the time I started smoking cigarettes. Towards the end of that school year, I remember getting sucker punched by the girlfriend making a pedophile joke in retaliation to my blonde joke. I at least had some solace after my friend broke up with her within the week.

My father had filed for bankruptcy, claiming the 100k debt he accumulated after we left should be shared by my mother because they were not divorced at the time, which the judge accepted and wiped away all his back support. She was barely making due as a professional student who was also working, but soon enough her load was lightened after my sister's boyfriend punched a hole in the door, and then my older sister and mom got in a massive physical fight which culminated with the couple leaving. This 10th grade year was also the time when my wisdom teeth began causing pain. I continued stewing in my anger and depression, arguing with my mom on a regular basis or writhing on my bed from dental migraines when I was not distracted in a virtual world.

11th grade is when pot was introduced. My main friends changed, although they were still in the same group. It was another escape, another distraction to get lost in. It was the main reason I would leave my house (besides school) and I did not use it in a healthy matter, but it did give me a semblance of happiness that I desperately needed. My relationship with my mother was still rocky, and had one particularly awful fight that was resulted with a hole in the window, three broken toes, and a police call. That Christmas I got a bass guitar to play with my step brother, and then I saw that same brother smoking rocks with my step father and my mother.

The following year saw an improvement with my mother and I's relationship. She admitted that she saw so much of my father in me that it affected her judgement, and I agreed that I had been acting as bitter and angry as he was. We started having actual talks, discussing philosophy and many inspiring topics. We still argued, but it became further and further between. I kicked cigarettes, and then a month before the end of school we moved again.

This was the period of time where I started understanding a lot more. I was made miserable because I lacked social security and a green card, and was unable to do anything but mow lawns on occasion and random odd things. I spent more time reflecting upon myself, about my behaviors and my past, the experiences that have led me to this point, and the influences of and on my actions. I had accepted that in the past, I had acted the same way I had been taught, but that it was on me to break the cycle of anger and negativity to bring a positive light to my life.

September 2013, we moved back to Canada where I could finally get a job. We moved to the same city as my aunt and grandparents that had left Texas, who once more helped us get settled. I began working under my aunts new husband, the best man of her first marriage, and experienced first hand what my mom had felt from her family. Nearly everybody in the store loved me, except for my manager who constantly gossiped with my aunt and grandfather. We were understaffed and the store was growing, and a lot of my work was not quantifiable because of the customer aspect to it. While the running joke of the store was about how he sat on his ass upstairs, he would go home and bitch about MY lack of work.

I worked there for a year before leaving, escaping their negativity and saving money for the journey of my life. I began another job, but recently had to drain my bank account because of the wisdom teeth that had been giving me migraines for 5 years and began hurting so much that I could not wait for my benefits to start. Because of that, I sit here with holes in my mouth hoping to crowdsource this book of mine that will help others come to the same realizations that it is up to the individual to identify the patterns of behavior, to try and find where they came from, and to work towards replacing them with positivity to change the lens that you perceive the world with, and the path towards inner peace and outward love that is freeing of the heart and soul.

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